Amira sat behind the massive desk in the Pedro CEO’s office, staring at the mountain of folders as if they were written in a foreign language. When the head of operations asked for her signature on a multi-million dollar rger, she felt a headache coming on.
"Listen," she snapped at the confused staff. "I’m not well. I’m taking a few days off, so just... handle it!"
She stord out of the building at 9:30 AM, leaving the employees whispering in her wake. The French heiress of the Pedro family had never walked out on a Monday morning in her life.
As she slid into her car, Julian’s na flashed on the screen. Amira rolled her eyes but answered, putting on her best Amara voice.
"Hey," Julian’s voice was full of regret. "I’m so sorry, but this ergency is taking out of town for a few days. I really wanted to be with you, Amara."
Amira’s patience snapped. She wasn’t the patient, understanding woman her sister was. She wanted the perks of being Julian’s woman now.
"Listen, I don’t have ti for gas, okay?" she hissed, her voice sharp and demanding. "If you want , you need to put in more effort. I miss you, and I want you now, and here you are running away!"
There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. Julian was stunned. The Amara he knew would never speak with such entitlent or aggression.
"Amara? Are you okay?" Julian asked, his voice cautious. "I’m sorry... I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t urgent. Are you... feeling alright?"
Realizing she had nearly blown her cover, Amira forced a shaky laugh. "I’m sorry. I’m just... stressed. Work is a lot. Forgive . Just do what you have to do."
"Okay," Jullian said, though the warmth was gone from his voice, replaced by confusion. "I’ll call you later."
Amira ended the call and threw the phone onto the passenger seat. "Goodness," she muttered, her face twisting in a sneer. "I thought I’d finally get to have so fun with him, but no. He’s as boring and busy as the rest of them."
She gripped the steering wheel, a restless fire burning in her veins. "I need a man," she whispered to herself.
Instead of heading back to the Pedro mansion to maintain the disguise, she swung the car around and headed toward the neon lights of the city’s most exclusive, underground sex club. She didn’t care about the company or the "quiet life." She wanted to burn through Amara’s reputation and have a good ti doing it.
---
Amara’s eyes snapped open to a ceiling of white silk. The scent was the first thing she noticed, the heavy, cloying perfu of hundreds of white lilies. She looked down and gasped. She wasn’t in her evening dress anymore; she was wearing a flowing white silk gown, like a bride from a nightmare.
How long have I been out? She scrambled toward the door, her heart hamring against her ribs, but the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway stopped her. Thinking fast, she dove back into the bed, pulling the duvet up and closing her eyes tight.
The door creaked open. The sll of fresh coffee and toast entered the room.
"Oh dear," Seb’s voice was disturbingly cheerful. "The sedative wasn’t that strong. I almost forgot how sensitive you are to dication. How foolish of ."
She heard him rummaging through a drawer, the rattle of a plastic bottle echoing in the quiet room. "This will make you feel better," he murmured.
As he approached the bed, he watched her closely. He saw her eyelashes twitch. A small, dark smile crossed his face. "You’re awake. You know, you used to do that a lot in the past. Pretending to be asleep so I’d carry you to bed. Rember?"
Amara sat up, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fear. "What is this, Seb? Where am I? Why did you bring here?"
"One of my private villas," Seb said, setting the breakfast tray down with clinical precision. "It’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s peaceful, right? I know you love the quiet and the sea. This place is perfect for us."
"What the hell are you doing?" Amara hissed, backing away from him until her spine hit the headboard.
"We just need to talk," Seb replied, his voice dropping to a low, intimate hum. "Without interruptions. Without Julian. Think of this as our second honeymoon, Amara. A fresh start."
"We are no longer together, Seb!" Amara spat the words, hoping to pierce his delusion. "I have a fiancé. Julian is probably looking for right now. The police will be here any minute. You need to let go before you ruin what’s left of your life."
Seb didn’t get angry. He didn’t yell. He simply picked up a piece of fruit and held it out to her, his eyes hollow and fixed.
"Julian isn’t looking for you," Seb said calmly. "I checked. Your phone has been active all morning. You’re at ho, ’Amara.’ You’re taking a few days off work because you’re stressed. Everyone thinks you’re safe in your bed."
Amara’s blood ran cold. Amira. She realized in that mont that she wasn’t just trapped by Seb, she had been replaced by her own sister.
"I don’t want to eat! Get out of here!" Amara’s scream echoed against the white walls, but it was like shouting into a void.
"You need to calm down, my love," Seb said, his voice terrifyingly gentle. He didn’t flinch at her rage. "I’ll fix everything, I promise. We’ll be happy again." He took a step closer, his eyes wet with a sudden, desperate emotion. "I know I was wrong, baby. I know what you did for ... how you risked your life seven years ago. Why didn’t you tell ? But it’s okay now. I’ll spend the rest of my life fixing it. I’ll treat you better than anyone else ever could. I’ll make you happier than you’ve ever been."
Amara looked at him with pure horror. She reached for the breakfast tray and shoved it, sending the fruit and coffee crashing onto the bed and floor.
"So what?" she yelled, her voice trembling. "You’re going to keep captive here? For how long, Seb?"
"Until you calm down," he replied instantly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. He knelt on the floor, his expensive suit dragging in the spilled coffee, and began to pick up the fruit with a faint, haunting smile.
"I’ll clean this up. I’m sorry, there isn’t much food in the pantry yet, but I’ve arranged for a delivery. I’ll make you sothing else," he said
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