Todos los capítulos de THE FAKE HEIRESS and Her OBSESSIVE BROTHER: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

The afternoon light was fading when Vivian slipped into the west wing.She had spent the morning avoiding Damian's gaze, carrying trays and folding linens while her heart pounded in her chest. The memory of his eyes on her face, his voice asking her name, refused to leave her.She needed to search Emilia's room again. The chest had given her the blanket and the photograph, but there had to be more. There had to be something that explained what happened to her mother.The west wing entrance was unlocked. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was cold and still, the silence heavy around her.She climbed the narrow staircase and pushed open the door to Emilia's room. Everything was exactly as she had left it. The bed. The wardrobe. The painting that hid the compartment.She moved to the painting and swung it aside. The compartment was empty now. She had taken everything.But something caught her attention. A small desk in the corner of the room. She had searched it before,

Morning arrived with a heavy sky and the smell of rain in the air.Vivian had barely slept. She had spent the night replaying the encounter in the study, the way Damian's eyes had lingered on her face, the way he had said he noticed everything. The chair in Emilia's room had haunted her thoughts until dawn. Someone had been sitting there. Someone had been waiting.She needed to be more careful. She needed to move faster. But she also needed help.---The kitchen was subdued when Vivian arrived.Mrs. Albright stood at the counter, her movements slower than usual. The other servants spoke in whispers, their voices barely audible over the clatter of dishes. The entire mansion seemed to be holding its breath.Vivian took her place at the sink and began washing dishes. She kept her head down, her movements mechanical. But her eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of Marcus.He wasn't there. She spent the morning moving through her tasks, her mind elsewhere. She carried trays, folde

Vivian barely slept that night.She lay on the narrow cot, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Marcus had spoken. The files. The photographs. The names of women who had vanished. He had been gathering proof for years, risking his life, waiting for someone he could trust. And now he was willing to work with her.She thought about Elizabeth. Her mother. The woman who had asked Marcus to watch over her. The woman who had disappeared trying to expose the Carringtons. Elizabeth had started this fight. Vivian was going to finish it.But first, she needed to know if Marcus was telling the truth.---Morning came gray and cold.Vivian dressed quickly and made her way to the kitchen. The servants moved through their tasks with their usual quiet efficiency, but the air was still heavy with tension. Damian's announcement had left everyone on edge.She kept her head down and worked. But her eyes searched the room, looking for any sign of Marcus. He wasn't there. By midday, she had still

Three days passed.Three days of scrubbing floors and folding linens and pretending she was invisible. Three days of watching the corridors, listening to whispers, and waiting for something to happen. Three days of wondering what Damian knew and when he would make his next move.Nothing happened. No more notes appeared on her pillow. No more chairs were placed in abandoned rooms. Damian did not summon her. He did not look at her strangely when she carried his tea. He did not mention the west wing again.It was worse than if he had done something. The silence felt like a held breath. The calm felt like a trap.---On the fourth morning, Mrs. Albright called Vivian into the kitchen.The cook was standing by the stove, her expression unreadable. She looked at Vivian for a long moment before speaking. "The master has requested your presence at dinner tonight."Vivian's heart stopped. "Mine?""You." Mrs. Albright's voice was flat. "He said he wants to meet the new staff. He's been doing it

Vivian did not sleep that night.She could not stop thinking about the photograph Damian had shown her. The garden. The roses. The places she used to hide. Whatever Damian knew about her past, he had known it long before she realized he was watching. But she had not broken. She had not given him what he wanted. And that was something.The next morning, Vivian rose before dawn. She dressed quickly and made her way to the kitchen, her mind still churning. She needed to act normal. She needed to be invisible. But as she stepped into the corridor, she saw him. Damian stood at the end of the hallway, waiting."Sarah." His voice was calm. "Come with me."Vivian's heart pounded. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to run. But she couldn't. She had to play her part. She followed him.---He led her through a series of corridors she had never seen before, past rooms that had been sealed for years. Finally, he stopped in front of a door. "This was Emilia's room," he said.Vivian's blood ran cold.