THE BRIDE SHE LEFT BEHIND

Name: THE BRIDE SHE LEFT BEHIND
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Billionaires | Ongoing

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She stepped into her sister's life... and uncovered a deadly secret. When quiet, kind hearted Emily Harper loses her glamorous older sister Sarah to a mysterious accident, her world shatters. Sarah had it all a rich, handsome husband, a grand estate, and the perfect life Emily always envied. So when the grieving widower Daniel Blackwell offers Emily comfort... and then a proposal, she says yes. But the mansion she now calls home is full of shadows. Sarah's perfume still lingers in the halls. Her clothes hang untouched in the closet. And Emily swears she hears whispers in the night. Everyone tells her she's imagining things. That she's just overwhelmed. But Sarah's diary says otherwise and what it reveals is terrifying. As Emily begins to dig into her sister's past, she uncovers secrets that were never meant to be found secrets about betrayal, fear, and the truth behind Sarah's final days. And the closer Emily gets to the truth, the more dangerous her new life becomes. Because someone wants the past to stay buried. And Emily might be next. A haunting tale of forbidden love, buried secrets, and a woman forced to choose between truth and survival this chilling mystery will keep you up all night, turning pages until the very end.

Betrayal Forced love CEO Arranged marriage

Chapter 11 The Second Drive

06-06 07:02

Chapter 1 I Married My Sister's Husband

My sister died in a fire incident

Three months later, I married her husband.

It was not for love, It was a deal. He needed someone to raise her son, And I owed his family a big favor.

Now, I live in her house.

Sleep in her bed.

Take care of her child.

But nothing here feels right.

Today was my 27th birthday. I baked myself a small cake and got dressed. I found a soft green dress in the back of the closet. It smelled like flowers and old perfume.

I didn't know it was hers.

I walked downstairs and saw Ash standing there. He's seven years old my nephew. Her son

He looked at me, eyes cold. Why are you wearing my mom's dress?

I didn't know it was hers, I said.

Yes, you did, he said. You want to be her. But you're not.

Then he lifted the cake I made.

Before I could stop him, he threw it in my face.

The frosting was thick and sweet. It dripped into my eyes. I stood still. I couldn't move.

Ash leaned in close and whispered, I wish it was you who died in that fire. Not her.

Then he turned and walked away like nothing happened.

I stood frozen as the cake slid down my face and onto the hardwood floor. The dress her dress was ruined. Vanilla frosting clung to the delicate fabric, leaving stains I knew would never come out. Just like the stain of guilt that clung to my heart.

The front door opened. James, my brother in law husband now walked in. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. They destroyed my cake. My tear streaked, frosting covered face. They ruined my dress.

What happened? he asked, his voice flat. Not concerned, not angry. Just tired. Always so tired since Clara died.

I wiped frosting from my eyes. Just a little birthday mishap.

His face changed as he registered the date. It's your birthday?

I nodded. He had forgotten. Of course he had. In this house, only one woman's special days mattered, and she was gone.

I'm sorry, he said, but the words were hollow. He set his keys down and walked past me, climbing the stairs without another word.

I went to the kitchen to clean myself up. As I scrubbed cake from my skin, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. For a split second, I thought I saw Clara staring back at me.

We were never identical she was the beautiful one, the charming one, the one who lit up rooms when she entered. I was just me. The quiet sister. The responsible one. The one who always cleaned up Clara's messes.

And now I was cleaning up her final mess. Taking care of her family because she no longer could.

The favor I owed wasn't to James. It was to Clara. A promise made years ago, after she'd saved me from the worst mistake of my life. If anything ever happens to me, she'd said, take care of my boys.

I never thought I'd have to honor that promise. Never imagined she'd be gone at thirty, leaving behind a grieving husband and a traumatized child.

Never dreamed I'd be wearing her wedding ring, sleeping in her bed.

I changed out of the ruined dress and put on my own clothes. Plain jeans. A simple shirt. Nothing like Clara would have worn.

I found Ash in the backyard, sitting on the swing set Clara had insisted on installing last summer. He didn't look at me as I approached.

I know you miss her, I said softly, sitting on the swing next to him. I miss her too.

You're not supposed to be here, he said, his small hands gripping the chains so tightly his knuckles turned white. It's wrong.

I know it feels that way. I pushed myself gently, the swing creaking beneath me. But your mom asked me to take care of you if anything ever happened to her.

She wouldn't want you in her dress. In her room. With dad.

The accusation hung in the air. I couldn't argue with it. Some days, I felt like an imposter, playing house in my dead sister's life.

You're right, I said finally. It's not fair to any of us. But we're trying to figure it out.

Ash kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. The fire wasn't an accident, he whispered.

My blood ran cold. "What did you say?

He looked at me then, his eyes Clara's eyes filled with something I couldn't read. "Dad says it was an accident. But I heard them fighting that night. She said she knew about her.

A chill ran down my spine. Knew about who?

Ash shrugged, looking away again. I don't know. But the next day, she was gone. And three months later, you showed up. To replace her.

My mind raced. Clara and James had always seemed so perfect together. But the week before she died, she'd called me, sounding strange. Saying she needed to tell me something important.

We never had that conversation.

From the house, I heard James calling for Ash. Dinner was ready.

We should go in, I said, standing up.

Ash jumped off his swing but paused before walking away. I found something in the attic yesterday. A box of mom's things. There's a letter in there with your name on it. His eyes met mine, challenging. I didn't open it. But maybe you should.

He ran toward the house, leaving me alone with the setting sun and a growing sense of dread.

What had my sister wanted to tell me? And what did James have to do with it?

I looked up at the attic window, a small triangle of glass barely visible from the yard.

Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I would find that letter.

And maybe then, I'd finally learn the truth about the fire that killed my sister.