Chapter 2 — The Hidden Truth

Amelia didn’t remember how long she had been walking.

The rain had soaked through her clothes, but she barely noticed.

Her suitcase rolled behind her, bumping against the pavement with every step.

She kept walking.

Because if she stopped, she was afraid she would turn around.

And if she turned around, she might go back to Damian.

She couldn’t do that.

Not this time.

Three years.

She had spent three years loving a man who never loved her back.

She had spent three years waiting for the smallest piece of affection from him.

A phone call.

A smile.

A simple I missed you.

She had begged for crumbs, and Damian had made her feel grateful for them.

Never again.

Amelia stopped beneath the roof of a closed café and finally allowed herself to cry.

She covered her mouth with her hand as a sob escaped.

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

She hated herself for asking the question.

Because deep down, she knew the answer.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t enough.

Damian simply didn’t want her.

And that had to be enough reason to leave.

Her phone vibrated inside her handbag.

Amelia pulled it out.

Her heart jumped when she saw the name on the screen.

Damian.

She stared at it.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Her thumb hovered over the answer button.

Maybe he wanted to tell her to come home.

Maybe he had changed his mind.

Maybe—

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut.

“No.”

She declined the call.

Almost immediately, another call came.

She declined that one too.

Then a message appeared.

Damian: Where are you?

Amelia stared at the words.

She typed a response.

Why do you care?

She deleted it.

She typed again.

I’m fine.

Deleted.

Finally, she turned her phone off.

Tonight, she wasn’t going to be Damian Blackwood’s wife.

She wasn’t going to be the woman waiting for his attention.

Tonight, she was just Amelia.

And maybe that was enough.

⸻

Across the city, Damian stood alone in his office.

The divorce papers lay untouched on his desk.

His phone was still in his hand.

He had called Amelia twice.

She hadn’t answered.

Damian frowned.

She had never ignored him before.

Not once.

Even when she was angry.

Even when he hurt her.

She always answered.

He hated the strange feeling that settled in his chest.

He told himself it was irritation.

Nothing more.

His office door opened.

His assistant, Ethan, walked in carrying a thick brown envelope.

“Sir.”

Damian looked up.

“That’s the report?”

“Yes.”

“Give it to me.”

Ethan placed the envelope on the desk.

Damian didn’t open it immediately.

His eyes remained fixed on it.

“What exactly did you find?”

Ethan hesitated.

“That depends on how much you already know about Amelia.”

Damian’s expression hardened.

“Be careful.”

“I am being careful, sir.”

Damian picked up the envelope.

“Talk.”

Ethan took a breath.

“We started investigating Amelia because you asked us to verify certain information about her background.”

“I know what I asked for.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And?”

Ethan looked uncomfortable.

“We found inconsistencies.”

Damian’s fingers stopped moving.

“What kind of inconsistencies?”

“Her identity records.”

Silence.

Damian slowly raised his eyes.

“What about them?”

“Some of the information Amelia gave your family before the marriage doesn’t match the records we found.”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

“Are you saying my wife lied about who she was?”

“We’re saying we don’t know yet.”

Damian opened the envelope.

The first page contained Amelia’s name.

Her date of birth.

Her education.

Her family history.

Everything looked normal.

Then he reached the second page.

His eyes narrowed.

There was a photograph.

A photograph of Amelia.

But she looked younger.

Much younger.

And she wasn’t alone.

Standing beside her was an older man Damian recognized immediately.

His blood ran cold.

“No.”

Ethan said nothing.

Damian grabbed the photograph.

“Where did you get this?”

“From an old family archive.”

Damian stared at the man in the picture.

He knew that face.

Everyone in their world did.

Alexander Blackwood.

His grandfather.

But that wasn’t what frightened him.

It was the date written beneath the photograph.

Eight years before Damian met Amelia.

Damian’s eyes moved back to Amelia.

She couldn’t have known his grandfather that long.

Could she?

“What’s the connection?” he asked.

“We don’t know.”

Damian flipped through the pages faster.

Another photograph.

Another document.

Then a handwritten note.

His grandfather’s handwriting.

Damian knew it immediately.

His heart began pounding.

He read the first line.

If Damian ever marries Amelia Hart, make sure he never discovers the truth about her father.

Damian froze.

Amelia Hart.

His wife’s maiden name.

His eyes moved to the next sentence.

Because the truth will change everything.

Damian’s grip tightened around the paper.

“What the hell…”

Ethan stepped forward.

“Sir?”

“Get out.”

“But—”

“GET OUT.”

Ethan immediately left.

Damian remained frozen behind his desk.

His grandfather had known Amelia.

Not only known her.

He had known her family.

And apparently, he had deliberately kept something from Damian.

Something serious enough to mention in a secret letter.

Damian continued reading.

Then he saw one name.

His entire body went rigid.

Richard Hart.

Amelia’s father.

Damian knew that name too.

Because Richard Hart had been involved in the biggest financial scandal to ever threaten the Blackwood empire.

But Richard had supposedly died fifteen years ago.

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“Impossible.”

He grabbed his phone.

“Ethan.”

His assistant answered immediately.

“Yes, sir?”

“Find Richard Hart.”

There was silence.

“Sir?”

“You heard me. I want everything. Where he lived. Who he worked with. His bank accounts. His associates. Everything.”

“Sir, Richard Hart has been dead for fifteen years.”

Damian’s expression turned cold.

“I know.”

He looked down at the photograph again.

“That’s why I want you to find him.”

⸻

Meanwhile, Amelia finally arrived at the small apartment her best friend, Clara, had rented for her.

The moment Clara opened the door, her eyes widened.

“Amelia?”

Amelia stood there soaked from head to toe, holding a suitcase.

Clara stared at her.

Then at the suitcase.

Then back at her face.

“Oh my God.”

Amelia tried to smile.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

Clara didn’t ask another question.

She pulled her inside and wrapped her arms around her.

That was all it took.

Amelia broke.

She cried against Clara’s shoulder, finally letting out everything she’d been holding inside.

“He divorced me.”

Clara’s arms tightened around her.

“He actually divorced me.”

“Shh.”

“I signed the papers.”

Clara pulled back.

“You signed them?”

Amelia nodded.

“Good.”

Amelia stared at her.

“Good?”

“Yes. Good.”

Clara wiped the tears from Amelia’s cheeks.

“You’ve spent three years trying to make that man love you. Maybe now you can finally learn to love yourself.”

Amelia looked away.

“I still love him.”

Clara sighed.

“I know.”

Those three words hurt more than anything.

Amelia sat on the couch.

“I thought if I loved him enough, he’d eventually see me.”

Clara sat beside her.

“And did he?”

Amelia shook her head.

“No.”

Her voice broke.

“But I’m done.”

Clara studied her.

“Are you sure?”

Amelia looked toward the window.

Rain streaked the glass.

For the first time, she wasn’t looking at the Blackwood mansion.

She wasn’t waiting for Damian to come home.

She wasn’t wondering who he was with.

She wasn’t begging for his attention.

She was free.

“Yes.”

Amelia wiped her face.

“I’m done chasing Damian Blackwood.”

⸻

At that exact moment, Damian was staring at another document.

His face had gone completely pale.

It was a birth certificate.

Not Amelia’s.

His.

He looked at the document again.

Then at the photograph of his grandfather and Amelia.

His breathing became uneven.

There was a handwritten note attached to the birth certificate.

Damian read it once.

Then again.

His hands began to shake.

Damian must never know that Amelia is the daughter of the man who saved his life.

Damian stopped breathing.

“What?”

He turned the page.

There was one final sentence.

And he must never know what his father did to her family.

Damian’s eyes widened.

His father?

What had his father done?

And why had his grandfather forced him to marry Amelia?

Damian suddenly remembered something.

Something Amelia had said earlier.

I thought maybe I could make you love me.

For the first time, Damian wondered if Amelia had been just as unaware of the truth as he was.

His phone rang.

Ethan.

Damian answered.

“Talk.”

“We found something.”

Damian’s eyes hardened.

“What?”

“Richard Hart.”

Damian stood.

“What about him?”

Ethan’s voice dropped.

“Sir…”

A pause.

“Richard Hart is alive.”

Damian’s heart stopped.

“And there’s more.”

“What?”

“He’s been living under another name for years.”

Damian’s grip tightened around the phone.

“Where is he?”

Ethan hesitated.

Then he gave him the address.

Damian stared into the darkness outside his office window.

Richard Hart was alive.

Amelia had just left him.

And Damian had just discovered that the woman he thought he knew might be connected to the darkest secret in his family’s history.

For the first time in three years, Damian wanted to see his wife.

Not because of their marriage.

Not because of desire.

Not because of pride.

He needed answers.

But when he called Amelia again—

her phone was switched off.

And Damian Blackwood realized something terrifying.

For the first time, Amelia wasn’t waiting for him anymore.