Secrets and First Loves

CHAPTER 5

ROSE'S POV

I sat on the edge of the bed in my new room, staring out at the sprawling estate grounds below. The room was beautiful, but it felt empty. The weight of everything was pressing down on me—Lily, this fake engagement, and the fact that Damien Sterling, of all people, might be my only link to her.

I had to talk to him.

Pushing down the knot of nerves in my stomach, I found Damien in the study, his tall frame outlined by the warm glow of the desk lamp. He was flipping through some papers, but when I stepped inside, he looked up, his gaze settling on me.

"Rose," he greeted, setting the documents aside. "Shouldn’t you be resting?"

"I can’t rest," I said, walking further into the room. My voice was firm. "Not until I get answers."

He leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes watching me. "Answers about what?"

"Lily," I replied without hesitation, and I saw something flicker in his expression, gone as quickly as it appeared.

He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I hesitated, then took the seat, my hands fidgeting in my lap. "You said you’d help me find her. I need to know how."

He nodded, his voice calm. "I’ve already assigned my best private investigators to look into her disappearance. They started the moment you agreed to be my fiancee."

I blinked, startled. "You already started?"

"Of course," he said simply, leaning forward slightly. "I gave you my word, Rose. I don’t break promises."

Relief flooded through me, but it didn’t erase my growing curiosity. "Thank you," I murmured, my voice softer now.

But I couldn’t stop there. I had to know. "How do you know her, Damien?"

He stiffened ever so slightly, the movement almost imperceptible.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze shifted to the window, his jaw tightening.

Then, with a sigh, he said, "She was my first love."

The words felt like a thunderclap. I stared at him, incredulous. "What?"

He turned back to me, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher. "We were young. It was complicated."

"You’re lying," I said immediately, my voice sharp. "I would have known. I lived with her! She never said anything about you."

Damien’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Knowing your parents," he said smoothly, "do you think Lily would have risked it?"

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. Would she? The stern faces of my parents flashed in my mind, their rigid expectations suffocating us both. Slowly, reluctantly, I shook my head. "No," I whispered.

"Exactly," Damien said, his voice low but firm. "She didn’t tell you because she was protecting you. And herself."

I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. It made sense, but it still felt like a betrayal. Like I’d been kept in the dark about something monumental.

Damien rose from his seat, his towering presence cutting through the tension in the room. "Let me handle this," he said, his tone final. "I’ll make sure we find her."

"But—"

"Rose," he interrupted, his eyes softening just slightly.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Okay."

He gave me a small nod, then turned back to his desk. I lingered for a moment, watching him, before heading for the door.

"Rose," he called just as I reached it.

I turned. "Yes?"

"We’ll find her," he said firmly. "I promise."

Something in his tone made me believe him, and with a small nod, I left the room, the door clicking shut behind me.

I sank into the plush chair by the window in my room, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts.

Lily.

Damien.

How was this my life? My sister’s first love? It felt surreal, almost like the plot of a bad soap opera. I crossed my arms and sighed, leaning my head back against the chair.

“She never even told me,” I whispered to myself, bitterness creeping into my voice.

The image of Damien’s calm, unbothered face flashed in my mind.

“First love,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Unbelievable.”

My thoughts began to wander, and like an unwelcome guest, a memory crept in.

It was years ago—my father’s study. I was standing in the doorway, hesitant, watching as he poured over documents. He was on the phone, his voice low but clipped.

"The Sterling family are wicked," he had said, his tone sharp.

The name sent a jolt through me. I straightened in my chair, my heart racing. Sterling?

I frowned, shaking my head. It was a coincidence, surely. Damien wasn’t the only Sterling in the world.

“Right?” I murmured to myself, but the unease didn’t go away.

A soft knock on the door startled me, and I sat up quickly.

“Come in,” I called.

A maid stepped inside, her uniform crisp and her expression polite. “Miss Sinclair, lunch is ready. Shall I escort you to the dining room?”

I shook my head, forcing a smile. “No, thank you. I’ll find my way.”

She nodded and stepped back, closing the door behind her.

With a sigh, I stood, smoothing my clothes before heading to the dining room. The table was laid out beautifully, the kind of spread you’d expect in a palace. But my appetite wasn’t there.

I picked at the food, taking a few bites here and there. It was delicious, but my mind was too preoccupied to enjoy it.

The faint buzz of my phone on the table made me pause. I glanced at the screen.

A message.

I unlocked the phone, and as my eyes scanned the first few words, my breath caught. My chest tightened, and I felt the sharp sting of shock ripple through me.

The fork slipped from my hand, clattering against the plate. I grabbed the glass of water, but as I tried to take a sip, it caught in my throat, and I choked, coughing violently.

The message stared back at me as my vision blurred.