Chapter 1 The Missing Piece

CHAPTER 1

ROSE'S POV

"Oh, great. Senator Durian's here too. Of course he is-rich prick," I muttered under my breath, snapping a photo as he stepped out of his overpriced limo, surrounded by a bunch of fake-smiling leeches. His suit probably cost more than I made all year. I tugged my camera bag higher on my shoulder and eased further into the shadows near the hedge. "Yep. Just as expected. A sleazy party full of the usual suspects."

I glanced at my camera screen. Influencers, politicians, a few reality TV nobodies. The gallery was full, but none of it felt worth a damn. It wasn't bad, technically-it just wasn't the shot. My editor had made that clear, and I agreed. If I wanted to be more than just some girl with a lens, I needed something that couldn't be ignored.

"Come on, Rose," I muttered. "You didn't sneak in here for basic filler shots."

At the corner of the house, a waiter came out, pushing a cart loaded with champagne flutes. I straightened up immediately. Back entrance door was open. This was it.

Amy, my best friend and partner in bad decisions, had literally begged me not to do this. "Stick to the outside. Get what you need and leave. Don't be dumb." That was her exact quote.

And yeah, maybe she was right. But I was already walking. So yeah, so much to that.

I exhaled, pulling my hoodie lower over my face, hoping no one would notice me.

Yeah, right.

I walked across the manicured lawn. My heartbeat spiked as I walked past the door, slipping inside.

Inside, the hallway was almost too dark to see anything, but wide enough that five of me could've walked side by side without bumping elbows. The walls were covered in gold frames and art I couldn't name, and everything smelled... expensive. Like wood polish, old books, and overpriced candles. I stopped just long enough to listen, hearing laughter, glasses clinking, voices rising from some other room. Whatever was happening there wasn't my concern. I wasn't here to socialize.

"You've got this," I whispered to myself.

I moved deeper into the house, gripping my camera so tight it was starting to hurt my hand. Every door I tried was locked, until one finally gave in. My lips tugged up without meaning to.

Jackpot.

It was a study. Massive shelves from floor to ceiling, an oak desk that screamed, I'm more powerful than you, and soft lighting that made everything feel like a secret.

I chuckled. Definitely in the right place.

I looked around the room, searching for anything newsworthy. A small smile spread across my face as I spotted a stack of folders on the desk. I walked over, flipping them open. Property documents. Contracts. Something about offshore accounts. Close, but not quite the kind of bombshell I needed.

And then I saw it. Half-buried under a pile of papers. A simple black photo frame.

I froze.

It was Damien Sterling. The Damien Sterling. The one all the headlines circled like vultures. But that wasn't the part that frightened me. It was the person that was standing beside him. His arm was wrapped around her waist, both of them were smiling with no care in the world.

What?!

My fingers started to tremble as I picked the photo up, not believing my eyes, even though the truth was right in front of me.

No. No way.

Lily.

It was Lily.

My sister.

The sister who'd disappeared years ago without a word. Vanished. Just gone. And now she was in a picture. With him.

What the hell is this?

My mind started spinning. The room grew smaller, cutting off my air, making me dizzy and nauseous. How? Why?

"Care to explain why you're in my study?"

I jumped, startled, hands clutching my chest, the photo slipping from my fingers and hitting the floor.

"Ah-I-" My throat locked up mid-sound as I spun around, wide-eyed. Behind me stood Damien Sterling. In the flesh.

He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression an unreadable, cold mask. He didn't even look shocked to see me. Just annoyed.

My heart took off instantly, slamming against my ribs. I tried to come up with a lie, anything that would make sense, but my brain decided to clock out on me. I was blank. Totally blank. He kept staring, and my thoughts wouldn't string together.

"Well?" he said calmly, way too calm, considering he just caught me red-handed in his study. More than anything, though, was the way his voice sounded, almost amused.

I lifted the photo again, even though my hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped it a second time. "Who is this?" I asked, and my voice came out too loud and too sharp, but I didn't care.

His brow furrowed slightly, and a slow, smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was definitely not friendly. "Why do you care?"

I tightened my grip on the photo until the frame's edges dug into my skin. I didn't even feel it. All I could think about was Lily. "Just answer the damn question."

His smile deepened, and I hated it. That calm, smug expression, like he knew I wouldn't get what I wanted. "You've got a lot of nerve for someone who broke into my study. Why does it matter to you? Do you know her?"

"No," I said too fast. The lie scraped my throat on the way out. "I don't."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because-" I stopped. I had to look him in the eye. "Just tell me who she is. Tell me why she's in a photo with you."

He stood up straighter now. That casual vibe he had before? Gone. The room felt smaller. His eyes locked on mine, and I hated how much they unsettled me. "You're a terrible liar," he said. "You definitely know her. And now I want to know why."

"I'm not lying!" I snapped, my voice cracking, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to back down. I clutched the photo tighter. "If you don't tell me who she is or where she is, I swear to God, I'll walk out of here and tell every reporter I know that you're a human trafficker. Or worse."

His smile vanished. "Human trafficker?" he repeated, slowly. "All that just because of a photograph?"

"Where is she?" I asked again, trying to push down the panic building in my chest. It felt like I couldn't get enough air.

He took a step forward. Then another. "You saw a photo. That's all. And you think that means she's here, with me?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't. My brain was too busy trying to find an exit.

His gaze shifted toward the door-right before mine did.

"Don't even think about it," he said. His voice was lower now. It's almost as if he could hear my thoughts.

I swallowed hard. I wasn't giving up. That just wasn't in my nature.

I spun around and ran.

My boots sounded loud against the smooth floor as I sprinted toward the door. Everything in me screamed to get out, just move, go.

"Halt!" He roared behind me, and then his hand wrapped around my arm, yanking me backward so fast I almost fell. I would've hit the ground if he hadn't caught me. Not that I was grateful.

"Let me go!" I shouted, yanking my arm back, twisting hard, but he wouldn't let go.

"Can you calm down first?" he said.

"Calm down?" I choked out. "You think I won't find out what you're hiding? Watch me."

He stayed silent, just looked at me, and then his hand shifted. His fingers pressed against the side of my neck, and I barely had time to gasp.

My legs gave out. The room spun.

Then everything went black.