Married My Enemy To Save My Family

"You’re not the only one wearing your face."

The words haunted Elara like a melody that wouldn’t stop playing. She sat in the corner of the vast library, wrapped in a shawl, pretending to read. The mansion was too quiet. Even the fireplaces crackled in whispers.

Damien entered without knocking, holding his phone like a weapon.

"You saw this?" he asked, handing her the screen.

A security camera still. A woman in a red coat moving past one of the lower corridors. Brown hair. Lean frame.

Elara’s mouth went dry. "That’s me."

Damien shook his head. "You were asleep in your room when this was recorded."

She stood slowly. "Where was this taken?"

"East Wing. No one goes there except my father’s private guards."

Elara swallowed hard. "She’s inside."

He nodded grimly. "And she has your face."