All Chapters of LIES BEFORE VOWS: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

The boardroom at Caldwell International Holdings was silent, the kind of silence that weighed heavy—like thick fog before a storm. At the head of the obsidian-glass table sat Damon Caldwell, immaculately dressed in a tailored charcoal-gray suit, fingers steepled, eyes locked on the quarterly projections glowing on the wall-sized screen. Numbers had always made sense to him. They didn’t lie. They didn’t shift or manipulate. They didn’t disappoint. People, on the other hand? That was another story. He exhaled slowly, hiding his irritation behind a carefully composed expression. Around him sat the ten senior board members of the empire his family had built over four generations. They were men and women of consequence—seasoned strategists, CEOs, global advisors. And they were all looking at him. His father, Vincent Caldwell, sat to his immediate right. A man of towering presence and fading patience, Vincent was in his seventies now, though age hadn’t softened him. If anything, it had sh

Long before the sun rose over the steel skyline of Manhattan, Sienna Blake was already awake. Her alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., like it did every weekday, followed by her daily ritual—shower, stretch, black coffee, and quiet moments by the tiny window of her two-bedroom apartment in Queens. She never rushed the silence. It was the only part of her day that truly belonged to her. By 6:30, she was making breakfast—eggs, toast, and turkey bacon. Her fifteen-year-old brother, Jordan, stumbled into the kitchen, hair a wild mess, dragging his backpack like it weighed a ton. “Food,” he mumbled. “Good morning to you too,” she said with a soft smile, sliding a plate toward him. Jordan was her baby brother, though he’d never admit it. Fourteen years separated them. Their bond was strong, though it had become more complicated in recent years—especially after their father’s death. He looked up at her between bites. “You working late again?” “Probably,” she said, brushing a crumb from his ch

Sienna was updating the quarterly logistics brief when Damon stepped into her office unannounced—a rare and unsettling move. He never entered her workspace unless something was on fire or collapsing. She looked up, brow arched. “Is something wrong with the Arizona numbers?” “No,” he said, voice low. “But I need to talk to you. Privately.” She saved the file, stood, and followed him without question. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as he led her down the hall to the executive lounge, a private space rarely used unless a high-profile guest was involved. Once inside, he shut the door. She stood there, arms crossed. “What’s going on?” He hesitated. For the first time in weeks, Damon Caldwell looked genuinely uncomfortable. “There’s something I need to tell you. And before I say it, I want you to know I didn’t plan this. It just… happened.” “That’s never a good way to start a conversation,” she replied, suspicious now. “At the fundraiser last weekend,” he began,

The sleek black Caldwell town car pulled up in front of Sienna’s apartment building at exactly 5:45 PM. It gleamed like a panther in the evening sun, polished to perfection. A suited chauffeur—mid-fifties, professional, composed—stepped out and opened the door for her.“Miss Blake?” he said with a respectful nod.“Yes,” she replied, voice tight with nerves.“I’m Thomas. Mr. Caldwell asked me to bring you to the estate. Please, take your time.”Sienna slid into the back seat, smoothing down the emerald green dress Damon had paid for. The silk hugged her frame with elegance, but her stomach twisted in knots beneath it.She clutched the envelope of information Damon had given her, memorizing details all night and during her lunch break. His favorite wine: a 2012 Merlot. Favorite author: Orwell. Childhood dog: Baxter. She knew his GPA, his travel preferences, even his shoe size.This was more than a dinner. It was a performance.The car glided through Manhattan, slipping past traffic with

Sienna turned the key, pushed open the door, and stepped into her apartment.She paused for a moment on the threshold, still clutching the clutch bag from dinner. Her silver gown shimmered faintly under the hallway light, now wrinkled slightly from sitting, but still glowing like a second skin. The night had gone better than she expected, but every moment of it still felt surreal.Behind her, Damon sat in the car, eyes following her until the door clicked shut.He didn’t move immediately.For a few lingering seconds, he just stared at her building’s entrance. His expression unreadable, even to himself.Then, without a word, he shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the thick Manhattan night.The flash had gone unnoticed.He didn’t see the shadow crouched low near the alley across the street, or the quiet snap of a camera capturing just enough—a profile, a dress, a car.It was subtle.But it was enough.The next morning, the internet lit up like som