Married To My Dead Fiance's Brother

Chapter 5-Secrets Behind Closed Doors

Sophia woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows. For one blissful second, she forgot where she was. Then her gaze fell on the simple gold wedding band on her finger. Reality came crashing down. She slipped the ring off and left it on the bedside table.

In the kitchen, Maria had prepared breakfast. Damien was already seated, reading financial reports. Sophia sat down and ignored him.

Maria noticed immediately. “Mrs. Harrington… your ring.”

Sophia stiffened. Damien looked up.

“It was uncomfortable,” she said.

Damien set his newspaper down. “Wear it outside the house.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to wear.”

“Not as your husband,” he replied evenly. “As the man trying to stop this marriage from collapsing on day two.”

The words landed heavily. Sophia reluctantly slid the ring back onto her finger.

After Damien left for headquarters, Sophia wandered the penthouse. She found Maria cleaning the living room and tried to sound casual. “That locked room at the end of the hall…”

Maria froze for a split second. “Some doors stay closed for a reason, Mrs. Harrington.” She quickly changed the subject, but the refusal only made Sophia more curious.

That afternoon, Sophia decided to cook lunch. It ended badly. Smoke filled the kitchen. The alarm blared. Just as she was waving a towel at the detector, the front door opened.

Damien stepped inside. “Maria said you hadn’t eaten.”

Sophia blinked. “So?”

He set a takeout bag on the counter. “People make worse decisions when they’re hungry.”

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t romantic. But the small gesture caught her off guard.

While cleaning up the mess, Sophia sliced her finger. Damien moved without thinking. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the sink, running cold water over the cut. They stood close—too close. Their eyes met. The air thickened with tension.

Sophia pulled away first. “I can take care of myself.”

Damien’s voice was quiet. “I’m starting to realize that.”

He released her hand slowly, as if reluctant to let go.

“There’s a charity gala tomorrow night,” he said later, leaning against the counter.

“I’m not going.”

“You don’t have a choice. The board expects us there.”

“I don’t care what they expect.”

“You will after tomorrow’s headlines,” he replied. His tone left no room for argument.

That afternoon, Sophia received a call from a police detective. He asked her to come to the station. She went without telling Damien.

At the station, the detective placed a sealed evidence bag on the table. Inside was Alex’s shattered wristwatch.

“We found this yesterday,” he said. “Someone anonymously submitted new evidence. The accident scene wasn’t processed properly. We’re reopening parts of the file.”

Sophia’s mind spun, but she kept her expression neutral.

When she returned to the penthouse, Damien was waiting in the living room—still in his suit, lights dimmed, looking like he hadn’t moved in hours.

“Where were you?” he asked.

She froze. “I…”

His eyes dropped to the police file in her hands. Silence stretched between them.

“You went to the police,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Sophia nodded slowly.

Damien exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. For the first time since she’d known him, he looked genuinely scared—not angry, but scared.

“If the board finds out you’ve reopened Alex’s case…” He paused, jaw tight. “They’ll come after you next.”

Sophia stared at him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Damien looked away.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, quietly—

“Because Alex wasn’t the first Harrington to die.”