Masked sister

Masked sister
But he kept staring at me even after saying those words, his gaze returning to me as though he was trying to understand something he couldn't quite put into words, and despite the cold expression he usually wore, I could sense that something else was lingering beneath it.

I noticed the file in his hands and decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Sir, do you want me to do anything for you?" I asked, glancing at the file, because clearly, he hadn't come all the way to my room for no reason.

"Oh, yeah," he replied, looking down at the file as though he had suddenly remembered why he was there. "This file. I wanted you to go through it."

His voice remained calm, but there was a slight hesitation in his words, almost like he had forgotten what he wanted to say for a moment.

I blinked.

He had actually stuttered.

That was unusual.

Diego always seemed so confident and controlled, especially when he was speaking to me, so hearing that tiny hesitation surprised me more than it should have.

"Okay, I'll check it later," I said, reaching out to take the file from his hands.

Before my fingers could touch it, he spoke again.

"Tomorrow, we'll be going to the meeting, we'll be traveling tomorrow. Are you ready?"

I nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir, I've packed all my things."

It was a complete lie.

I hadn't packed anything.

With everything that had happened, packing for the trip had been the last thing on my mind, but I wasn't about to admit that to him.

He gave me a brief look before turning around as if he was finally ready to leave, but the moment he reached the doorway, the atmosphere suddenly became awkward again.

I watched him pause.

For some reason, he didn't leave immediately.

Instead, he turned around and looked at me again.

His eyes moved over my dress, and I immediately knew what he was about to say.

"The clothes you're wearing..." He paused, his expression becoming slightly displeased. "Aren't they too revealing?"

My cheeks instantly burned.

Of course he noticed.

How could he not?

The dress already made me uncomfortable, and standing in front of Diego wearing it somehow made me even more conscious of how much skin it showed.

I shifted uncomfortably and instinctively pulled at the fabric.

"Why are you wearing this kind of clothes?" he asked.

I swallowed.

I wanted to tell him the truth.

I wanted to tell him that Ellie had chosen the dress and specifically ordered me to wear it to the party, but I knew exactly what would happen if I did.

There would be questions.

Diego would probably confront Ellie, and that was the last thing I wanted before the party.

I had already seen what Ellie was capable of when she was angry, and I wasn't willing to give her another reason to make my life difficult.

I took a slow breath, gathering enough courage to answer.

"Ellie wanted me to wear this," I said.

One of his eyebrows lifted.

"She wanted you to wear this?"

I nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know," I lied, looking away. "She said it suited me better."

His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes suggested he wasn't convinced.

He looked at the dress again before returning his gaze to me.

"You're not wearing this."

My eyes widened.

"What?"

He stepped closer, narrowing the distance between us.

I almost stepped backward, but I forced myself to remain where I was, even though my heart had started beating faster.

"This dress is too revealing," he said firmly.

I looked down at myself before looking back at him.

"But Ellie..."

"I don't care who chose it."

His voice was calm, but there was a possessive edge beneath his words that caught me completely off guard.

He glanced toward the dress again, his jaw tightening slightly.

"I won't let another man stare at your body."

My heart skipped.

I stared at him, completely stunned by what he had just said.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

I couldn't understand why those words affected me so much.

He was my boss, and I was only his secretary.

He shouldn't care what I wore.

And yet, the way he had said it made it sound like the thought of another man looking at me bothered him.

I swallowed and looked away, trying to hide the heat spreading across my cheeks.

"Sir, it's just a dress," I murmured.

His eyes returned to mine.

"I know." He paused for a moment.

"That's exactly why you should change it."

I couldn't help staring at him.

There was something about the seriousness in his expression that made my stomach flutter, and I hated that I was beginning to wonder whether Ellie had been right about one thing.

Maybe Diego was starting to notice me more than he should.

But I quickly pushed the thought away.

No. I couldn't let myself think that way.

There were already too many problems surrounding me, and getting emotionally involved with Diego would only make everything worse.

“What are you thinking? Do you want to wear this?” he asked, and I slowly shook my head.

“No.”

“Great. I'll be sending in some designers to give you options on what to wear. You're clearly not wearing this.”

“But...” I started, but he stopped and stared at me.

“What?”

“Um, sir, I don't know, but... I don't know if me wearing these clothes... I mean, you shouldn't care about what I wear, right?” I asked, struggling to put my thoughts into words without making myself sound awkward.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at me for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before he slowly walked toward me.

With every step he took, the distance between us became smaller, and I could feel my heartbeat growing faster. I tried to remain composed, but standing so close to him made it difficult to ignore how nervous I suddenly felt.

He stopped in front of me, completely closing the remaining space between us.

I instinctively held my breath.

Then, without saying anything, he lifted his hand toward my face and gently tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

I froze.

He had done that before.

The memory immediately came back to me, and I couldn't understand why he was doing it again. Was it simply a habit, or was there something else behind the gesture?

I lowered my eyes, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

His fingers lingered near my hair for a brief moment before he slowly lowered his hand.

“Trust me, Lyla,” he said quietly, his voice lower than before, “you don't want to know why I'm saying this.”

My breath caught slightly.

I finally looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but his face remained calm and unreadable.

“What does that mean?” I wanted to ask, but the question stayed in my head.

There was something different about the way he was looking at me, something I couldn't quite understand, and it made my stomach flutter despite how hard I tried to ignore it.

I swallowed and took a small step back, creating some distance between us.

He didn't stop me.

Instead, he simply looked at me for another moment before turning his attention toward the door.

“I'll have someone bring you different options,” he said, his voice returning to its usual controlled tone. “Choose something you're comfortable wearing.”

I nodded slowly.

“Okay, sir.”

He gave me one last look before turning to leave.

I watched him walk away, my mind still stuck on his earlier words.

I didn't want to know why he cared so much about what I wore.

Ellie's POV

Rebecca, Cynthia, and I stood quietly at the corner of Lyla's room, listening to the conversation taking place inside. We had heard almost everything, and with every word that came from Diego's mouth, I could feel my blood boiling a little more.

I had spent so much time convincing myself that I hated Diego, that I wanted to see his life fall apart and become a living nightmare, but hearing the way he spoke to Lyla made something inside me ache with a different kind of anger.

It wasn't only what he was saying, it was the way he said it.

There was concern in his voice.

There was something almost protective about the way he spoke to her, and the way he looked at her made it even worse.

He had never looked at me like that.

Not once. I clenched my fist at my side, trying to control the anger building inside me.

"Wait, babe," Rebecca whispered, looking between me and the slightly open door. "Isn't this your sister's room? What is your husband doing in your sister's room and saying these things to her?"

Her question made me glance at her.

I forced a small smile, although there was nothing pleasant behind it.

"Well, babes," I replied quietly, "there's a lot that is going to happen tonight."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

Cynthia also looked at me curiously, waiting for me to explain.

I turned my attention back toward Lyla's room.

My sister had always managed to make herself look innocent, as though she was the helpless victim of everything that happened to her, but I knew the truth.

At least, I knew the version of the truth that mattered to me.

"And this sister of mine," I continued, my voice becoming colder, "is actually a betrayer."

Cynthia's expression changed immediately.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I looked at both of them before slowly revealing what I had been keeping to myself.

"She actually slept with my husband."

Their eyes widened.

Rebecca's mouth fell open, while Cynthia stared at me as though she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"She did what?" Rebecca whispered.

I nodded slowly.

"She slept with Diego."

The two women exchanged stunned looks.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say.

Then Rebecca's expression hardened.

"Why are you still keeping her alive here?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "Why don't you just burn her to death already?"

I allowed a cold smile to spread across my lips. They didn't know the whole story.

They didn't know why Lyla was still here.
They didn't know what I had planned for her.

And most importantly, they didn't know that tonight wasn't simply about exposing her.

I had something much bigger planned.

"Don't worry," I whi
spered, looking toward the room again. "She'll get exactly what she deserves."

Cynthia leaned closer to me.

"Are you serious? Everyone is going to find out tonight?"

I nodded.

"Everyone."

The smile on my face widened as I imagined what would happen once the truth came out.