All Chapters of Under The Mask Of My Enemy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 11: Sparks by the FireThe world felt muffled as we sat in the car, Thorne's steady grip on my arm a reminder of the reality we'd just escaped. My head kept replaying the scene-Thorne stepping in front of me, his rifle steady, his movements precise as he took down the charging wild boar. That moment would have been terrifying enough, but the fact that he had done it for me left an ache I couldn't place.Thorne's voice cut through the silence, low and even. "Garrett, are you hurt?"I blinked, dragging myself back to the present. "No, I'm fine. Just… processing."He narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Processing? You just stood there. What would you have done if another boar had come at us? Do you even realize how reckless that was?Sharp, with the bite in his tone, was catching. His concern was sharp in complete contrast to his face-a mask of stoic unemotionality. "I wasn't expecting—""You weren't expecting a wild boar in hunting grounds?" Thorne interrupte

Chapter 13:Garrett's POVSince the hunting date, I had been in deep thought, and my system was really messed up- emotions everywhere, and how to handle them, no idea. I tried putting my concentration into work to sort my head out, but obviously, it wasn't quite working that way. Whichever way I tried, hard, to push thoughts of Thorne aside, they just crept inside.I had myself in the tasks at hand, but something in the back of my mind kept gnawing at me. I wasn't myself lately. The pressure from Donovan, my eldest brother, didn't make things any better. Donovan's voice echoed in my ears, reminding me to keep my eye on the ball, to remember the family. I had let myself slip too far.One of Donovan’s subordinates called to remind me of my responsibilities. “Garrett, you’ve been distracted. Remember, your loyalty to the family comes first. Donovan isn’t happy with how things have been lately.”The message was delivered. I had blown it, and Donovan wasn't one to forgive that very easily.

Chapter 15Garrett's POVThe air was thick in the family manor. Every step I made echoed off the high ceilings and empty walls, the sound a constant reminder of the pressure building inside me. Thorne lay limply in my arms, his body unnervingly still. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandages I had hastily wrapped around him, staining my shirt and hands. His skin was cool to the touch, his breathing shallow, and the longer he lay in a comatose state, the harder my heart crashed in my chest.He looked breakable, fragile-a strong contrast to the sharp man of confidence who had one-upped me at every possible occasion. Seeing him like this did something to me. It stirred deep within me something that wasn't ready to meet head-on. But I wouldn't let him die-not here, not now.I was but a few feet from the main hall when a figure emerged from the side corridor. My chest constricted as Donovan's men materialized, armed and ready to go; their faces cold, impassive. They half-circled, guns m

Chapter 17Thorne's POVGarrett disappeared not long after agreeing to let me return to the company. At first, I'd thought he might have gone out to cool his head. After all, my insistence on resuming my role as his assistant hadn't exactly thrilled him. But as the hours turned into longer and he did not return, unease set in.Was he mad? Hurt? Or had he just grown weary of me? I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts. Garrett wasn't the sulky type, nor would he avoid a problem. Whatever his reason for leaving, I couldn't afford the distraction. I had to focus.If I wanted to do this-really step back into the role of his assistant-then I needed to be prepared. The last thing I wanted was to mess up and prove everyone, including myself, wrong.I decided to begin with research. First, I went through Garrett's study, where the walls were lined up and down with books: business strategy, corporate finance, leadership principles-the volume was overwhelming. Filling my arms with a pret

Chapter 19: Confusion Thorne's POVA few days into working with Garrett, the façade began to crack. No matter how prepared I had gotten, all the reading, and meticulous notes taken, my gut still told me this wasn't for me. The tasks piled up higher than I could manage to handle, and no matter how hard I tried, it would feel like I was actually faking my way around being Garrett's assistant.I couldn't believe in myself: had I really been an assistant before losing my memories? A part of me knew better. While some things, like note-taking or processing schedules, felt instinctively easy, other tasks-very sensitive ones, at that, like maintaining negotiations or processing financial transactions-puzzled me completely. And this disquiet in the chest grew heavier with each passing day.In the late night, being all alone in the office, I sat looking at Garrett's desk, where usually Garrett worked, neatly kept with files and reports. It frustrated me because I hammered one hand on the desk