Todos los capítulos de LIES BEFORE VOWS: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Sienna had never seen herself like this.The black gown shimmered under the soft glow of her bedroom light, hugging her frame in a way that was daring yet graceful. The delicate white details traced the hem like brushstrokes—subtle, intentional, powerful. Her makeup was understated but flawless: soft smoky eyes, contoured cheekbones, and a deep red lip that made her look like she belonged on a magazine cover.Her hair was slicked into a low bun, every strand purposeful, not a single detail out of place.She didn’t look like a secretary.She didn’t look like a girl who paid off debt in installments and skipped dinners to save for her brother’s schoolbooks.She looked like someone who could change a room.Tonight, she was stepping into a world she had only ever seen from a distance—gilded, glossy, and televised.And this time, she was the headline.Outside the towering ballroom of the Whitmore Foundation Gala, chaos brewed.Photographers were already pressed against velvet ropes, flashe

The car sped along the highway, sunlight flickering across the windshield as Damon drove, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming lightly against his knee to the rhythm of whatever song was humming low on the stereo. Sienna sat beside him, looking out the window, her sunglasses pushing her curls slightly back.Neither of them spoke much. Not because they were avoiding conversation—but because the silence between them was starting to feel… comfortable.“So,” Damon said at last, eyes still on the road, “should I expect him to be weird about me picking him up with you?”Sienna chuckled. “Weird? No. Judgmental? Definitely.”“Oh?”“He’s fifteen. Raised by a sister who practically breathes independence. He’s not easy to impress.”Damon glanced at her. “But he’s smart?”“Too smart for his own good.” She smiled fondly. “And he’s probably already Googled your net worth.”Damon laughed. “Great. So he knows how much I’ve donated, who I’ve dated, what scandals I’ve dodged…”“And probably watche

The office buzzed with its usual rhythm — typing, footsteps, hushed conversations. It was the kind of organized chaos that Damon used to thrive in. But lately, his mind had found a different rhythm. A slower one. One that pulsed not with spreadsheets or strategy meetings, but with the memory of a soft voice, an effortless smile, and the faint scent of vanilla that lingered long after she had walked away. Sienna. She was back at her desk just across the hall, and every time Damon passed her glass office door, something in him stopped. Paused. Like he forgot what his next move was. She always looked so focused, eyes trained on her screen, lips slightly parted in concentration. She rarely looked up — except when he entered. Then she’d flash a smile that lasted barely a second, but lingered in Damon’s chest for hours. They didn’t talk much. Not like during the gala or the outing with Jordan. Here, things were clipped. Strictly professional. “Morning, Mr. Caldwell,” she’d say. “Mo

The HR department had been watching them for over a week now. Damon knew it. Sienna knew it. And apparently, so did half the office.Ever since whispers of their supposed “relationship” had begun spreading through the corridors, HR had made it their personal mission to monitor every interaction between them. For seven straight days, Damon and Sienna had been the picture of professionalism—short, precise conversations about work, no lingering glances, no private jokes. If anything, they looked more like polite strangers than colleagues.Still, the summons came.The two of them were called into the HR office that afternoon. The blinds were drawn, the atmosphere stifling. Damon sat with his elbows resting lightly on his knees, watching Sienna out of the corner of his eye. She was perfectly calm, her hands resting on her lap, her posture relaxed but alert.The HR manager began."We’ve observed your conduct over the past week and while there has been no obvious breach of professionalism, t

They approached the reception desk, where a sharply dressed young woman with a polite smile welcomed them. Margaret, Damon’s mother, had the reservations under control, leaning casually against the counter while she scanned the booking details. Damon stood off to the side, hands in his pockets, clearly more interested in watching the water through the glass than the actual check-in process.Margaret’s eyes flicked toward Sienna and Damon, then back to the receptionist.“Well,” she said in that tone that made it sound like a decision had already been made, “Damon and Sienna will be sharing one room. Jordan will stay with Vincent and me in the presidential suite.”Sienna’s eyes darted to Damon instantly, her mouth parting slightly. Damon glanced at his mother, his brow twitching with a subtle protest, but before either could speak, Margaret handed over the credit card with finality. “It’ll be more fun this way. And besides, the room is huge—you’ll both have space.”The receptionist type