Only a few days had passed since Sarah moved into her new home. She was finally happy, at peace. Damien had arranged for a nurse to come every day to help with rehabilitation. Sarah thought it wasn't entirely necessary, as she could already walk, and though her leg still ached a little, it wasn't a major problem. She spent her days exploring the estate, walking around the garden, and told Mrs. Blue she'd like to plant a lot of flowers. Mrs. Blue went out and returned carrying lots of small pots with all kinds of blooms; Johnny's hands were also full. Sarah was delighted. She would occasionally think about Damien and wish he was with her, but besides that, everything was going well.
The Obligation
In the Wellington family's grand mansion, everyone was busy planning the engagement ceremony. Thomas Wellington agreed with Don that they would hold the engagement in a month, but before that, Damien needed to spend more time with Penelope. Thomas firmly spoke, "Penelope is not satisfied with how he's treating her at the moment. She needs more time with him so they can cultivate their feelings." Don agreed with him. He then called Damien and told him to go shopping for the engagement dress with Penelope. Damien reluctantly agreed.
He picked Penelope up at noon and they drove to the wedding dress store. On the drive there, a heavy tension hung between them. Neither wanted to engage in conversation. Don, who went with them, spoke first. "Penelope was busy planning your engagement party, but you, you brat, were nowhere to be seen. I know work is important, but making your future wife happy is even more important. You know what they say, happy wife, happy life."
Damien just gave him a look that said, "You're the one who wants this marriage to happen, not me." Don understood and just sighed.
Then Penelope spoke, "It's okay, Grandpa, Damien is busy. His work is important." She was right. The reason she wanted to marry Damien was precisely because he was a leader in the industry. If he were just a rich heir who did nothing all day, she wouldn't even glance his way.
All kinds of thoughts started spinning in her head while she kept looking at the man behind the wheel. Damien Sterling is cold, domineering, arrogant, but also very handsome... That figure is tempting, no wonder women flock to his side when they see him. He could easily be a model, those abs, tall legs, that mature but stunning face... And all of that will belong to me. Imagine all the jealous faces when I marry this man. She smiled.
Damien's head, on the other hand, wasn't even thinking about her; his mind and his heart were full of Sarah. The way she trembled in his presence, the way she glanced at him when she thought he wasn't looking, the way her lips tasted... Oh, those lips, I could kiss them all day long and I would never get tired of it. The thought of it made him crack a smile.
Penelope noticed him smiling. Why is he smiling? What is he thinking about? Is he thinking about her? The only thing she was worried about now was Sarah and her relationship with Damien. She thought she could get rid of her fast, but Chloe ended up behind bars, and that plan failed. But she wasn't worried; she had Don's support, and what Don says, goes. Even if Damien was in love with another woman, there was no way to escape the marriage with her; she was the future Mrs. Sterling. She smiled proudly.
The Memory
Meanwhile, Sarah's memories were slowly starting to surface, like fragments of a dream. She remembered the big house, the garden, the swing set. She remembered the golden dog, its fur soft beneath her fingers. She remembered the woman's voice, calling her Isabella, a voice filled with love and warmth. But the woman's face remained elusive, a blurry image in the fog of her amnesia.
After sitting and watching Penelope pick dresses for hours, Damien was finally free. He hurried back to see Sarah, bringing her a small, antique music box. He had found it in a local antique shop the other day, and something about its delicate carving and aged charm had reminded him of her.
"I thought you might like this," he said, handing her the music box.
Sarah took it, her fingers tracing the delicate carvings on the lid. She opened it, and a gentle melody filled the room, a sweet, melancholic tune that seemed to tug at something deep within her.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of recognition in their depths. "This… this music," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I… I've heard this music before... I remember."
Damien watched her, his heart pounding with excitement. "What do you remember?" he asked softly.
Sarah closed her eyes, her face etched with concentration. "I… I see a woman," she said, her voice barely audible. "She's… she's dancing. She's holding me in her arms. She's singing this song."
Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and profound sadness. "It's… it's my mother," she whispered, a sob catching in her throat. "She's gone, Mama? Mama, come back." She started sobbing.
Damien's heart ached for her. She was so close, so close to reclaiming her past. He reached out and hugged her firmly.
"It's okay, Sarah," he said softly. "Take it easy."
Sarah nodded, her eyes still closed, tears streaming down her face. "Isabella," she murmured, the name now filled with a newfound warmth and familiarity. "My name… is Isabella."
Damien smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. She was slowly finding her way back to herself. The puzzle was finally starting to come together. But he knew there were still pieces missing, pieces that could reveal a truth far more dangerous than either of them could have imagined.