All Chapters of Never Meant to be Seen : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Ava had just given me something I'd spent weeks trying to find, but instead of making me feel relieved, it left me with more questions than before.nKonstantin had been the last person Ava saw with Isabelle. I looked down at my hands, trying to keep them from trembling. “Why didn't you tell anyone?” I asked again, my voice quieter this time. Ava looked away. “I was scared.” “You said that already.”“I know, but I was really scared, imagine what would have happened if I had told anybody, I didn't trust anybody Sofia.”She took a slow breath. “You don't understand what it was like back then. Nobody questioned Konstantin. Not openly, anyway. He had people everywhere, and everyone knew better than to get on his bad side.”I frowned. “And Isabelle?”“She didn't care.” Ava gave a humorless smile. “That was always her problem.”My chest tightened at the way she said it.“She kept asking questions,” Ava continued. “She thought if she found the truth, someone would finally listen to her.”“Wh

“Stuff happens right, and you've seen Konstantin you know the kind of person he is.” Mia replied. But I couldn't stop staring at the photograph. The young man standing beside Mia looked nothing like the man I had met in the study, yet somehow I could still recognize him.The same eyes, the same sharpness in his face. Even the way he stood, relaxed and confident, reminded me of the man who had sat across from me and spoken about my sister as though her disappearance was nothing more than an unfortunate consequence of her choices. I looked at Mia.“You were really going to marry him.”She nodded slowly. “Yes.” I turned the photograph over, hoping there would be something written on the back.There was. A date, I stared at it. “Thirty years ago.” Mia's eyes followed mine.“Yes.” I looked back at her. “And you've been keeping this all this time?”“I've kept more than this.” That caught my attention. “What do you mean?” She reached for the photograph, but I held onto it. “Mia, how much do

Mia stared at Arlo as if she was trying to decide whether he understood the weight of what he had just said. “You can't do this.” Arlo didn't answer. He stood near the window, his hands resting against the edge of the desk, his expression unreadable. Outside, the rain had begun to fall, tapping softly against the glass.Mia crossed her arms. “Arlo, I'm serious.”“So am I.”“You're talking about going against your own grandfather.” Mia said. “I know.” He replied. “No.” Mia shook her head. “I don't think you do.” Arlo finally turned toward her. “My grandfather has been controlling everything from behind closed doors for years. How much more do I need to understand?”“You need to understand what happens when he realizes you're no longer on his side.” Arlo's jaw tightened. “He already knows.”“Then you don't understand him at all.”Mia stepped closer. “Your grandfather doesn't forgive betrayal, not from anyone, not from family and especially not from you.” Arlo looked away.“I've already

I stared at the headline on my phone while another notification appeared beneath it.Then another, my hands had gone cold.“They know,” I whispered. Arlo took the phone from me and read through the articles. “They're questioning your identity,” he said carefully. “They're not just questioning it.” I shook my head. “Look at what they're saying.” He scrolled.One article claimed that Isabelle Ashworth had been kept away from the public for years because of a family scandal.Another suggested that the woman appearing beside Arlo wasn't the real Isabelle. And one had already started questioning photographs from Isabelle's past. My stomach twisted.“They're getting closer.” Arlo looked at me.“Sofia.” I couldn't look at him. “If they find out before the wedding—”“They won't.” I assured myself. “You don't know that.” His hand closed around mine.“Look at me.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “We knew this could happen.” he said. “But not like this.” I replied. My voice shook.“Three days,

Renata sat opposite me, her fingers twisting together so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. The woman who had spent weeks correcting my accent, teaching me Isabelle's expressions, and helping me disappear inside another woman's identity now looked terrified of her own shadow. Arlo stood beside me while Mia remained near the door, watching Renata with an expression I couldn't read. “You said you were forced to help them,” I began. “I want to know everything, Renata.” Her lips parted, but no words came out. Mia stepped forward. “You have one chance to explain yourself before we decide what to do with the information you gave them.”Renata flinched.“They threatened my family,” she finally whispered. I frowned. “Who?” “Konstantin's people.” The name settled heavily in the room. Renata reached for her phone with unsteady hands and opened her gallery. She turned the screen toward me, revealing a photograph of a young girl standing outside a school gate with a backpack hanging fro