Beneath The Lies

by Sapna Bhog

  A distressed sound escapes my mouth and I immediately hear Gabe’s soothing voice. “Relax, Damien. Don’t struggle to remember right now. Give yourself time, okay?”

  I gulp in deep breaths of air until the pain subsides. Gabe hands me the glass of water and I slug it down. We both stare at one another as the reality of my situation hits me head on.

  I have forgotten the last five years of my life and my father and brother have both died and gone to hell. Not that I regret their demise one bit; I do not. What I do regret is this damn responsibility and title that their death has left on me. I’m no longer Lord Damien Talbot, forgotten spare to the most powerful Duke in the country. Now, I am His Grace, Damien Talbot, Duke of Kittridge—the most powerful Duke in England.

  Fuck my life!

  Aaliya

  London

  Two days later

  Ilanded in London to a weather that reflects the storm in the pit of my stomach. Heavy rain pelts against the car and the morning sun is hidden behind dark, ominous clouds. Rivulets of water cascade down the car windows in a never-ending stream. I rub my hands together, trying to warm them, but it is of no use. In spite of the heated car, I’m freezing. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to warm up enough. I gaze outside, staring at nothing in particular, while thoughts of Damien and our future play on my mind. Dread fills my entire being each time I think of Damien’s accident and his subsequent memory loss, and the impact that could have on my life. And then there’s the entire truth of his being an aristocrat. So many questions plague my mind and, as of now, I have no answers and no clue how to proceed.

  “Ma’am, the hospital is right ahead. I’ll drop you at the entrance,” Gabe’s driver informs me, interrupting my sad thoughts.

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  My hands are suddenly clammy and I rub them against my bouncing knee. Every second that takes me closer to the hospital makes me pray harder that everything will turn out fine. My vision blurs and it takes me a moment to register that my eyes are watering. I wipe the tears and exhale deeply. I have to be strong. There is no other option!

  We reach the hospital and my door opens even before the car stops. I look up and meet Gabe’s dark blue eyes. He is as tall as Damien, but now he looks worn out. His shoulders are slumped, his dark hair in disarray and his face is haggard like he hasn’t slept much these past days. We stare at each other for a few short but agonizing seconds. We both know what’s at stake. I refuse to allow myself to imagine a scenario in which Damien doesn’t recognize me.

  “Aaliya, you’re here.” Gabe holds out his hand to me.

  I put my icy fingers in his and let him help me out the car and into the heated interiors of the hospital.

  I wait for the doors of the elevator to shut before I ask, “How is he?”

  “Fine, other than the memory loss,” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “The doctor says it’s retrograde amnesia—inability to recall past memories due to an injury. As of now, Damien has absolutely no recollection of the last five years of his life. I do hope that seeing you will change that.”

  I nod and we lapse into silence. The elevator dings at our floor and as we exit I hear a woman yelling at a nurse in the ward.

  “How dare you keep me away from him? I demand to see him now.” Her back is to me, so I can’t see her clearly, but for some strange reason she looks familiar.

  The nurse holds her folder closer to her chest and purses her lips. “It’s only family at this point, Ma’am. Anyone else has to be approved by Mr. Westcott. He’s keeping a check on His Grace’s visitors.”

  It takes me a second to understand that both the women are talking about Damien.

  I turn to Gabe. “Who is that?”

  At the same time, the woman yells. “I am his WIFE.”

  My head snaps back to her and my eyes widen as the words she has uttered hit my brain. Blood rushes to my head and I sway, staggering a step behind.

  Gabe holds my shoulder, steadying me, and pushes me into a chair. His lips are moving but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I can only hear my heartbeat sounding like a drum in my ears.

  A sharp squeeze of my hand forces my attention to Gabriel. He’s kneeling in front of me. “Aaliya, that’s not true. What Celia said is not true.”

  My eyes harden as they meet his and my chin juts out. “You know her?”

  “Yes, I’ll fix this.”

  I lick my dry lips, my mind and heart in turmoil. How can he fix this? From the corner of my eye, I see the nurse escorting that woman, Celia, to a room—Damien’s room.

  My first glimpse of Damien is hampered as Celia rushes towards him. A second, later she moves to his side and I see him. My heart lurches. Oh, Damien! He’s sitting up on the hospital bed and a side of his head is covered in a white bandage. I barely take him in before Celia holds his face in her hands and kisses him right on his lips.

  “NO!” I yell, the blood draining out of my face as my husband, my Damien, kisses another woman.

  My heart is shredding with every second that passes. Averting my eyes from them, I run towards the elevator, jabbing the button hard, ignoring Gabe’s frantic voice calling out to me. He grabs my hand and drags me inside an empty waiting room.

  I push him away. “Liar! You both are liars!”

  Tears flow down my cheeks as I scream at him. “How could he do this to me? He ruined my life. If she is his wife, then who am I?”

  “Aaliya, it’s not like that,” Gabe implores.

  I take a menacing step in front of him. “Explain to me what just happened out there. Explain why another woman is kissing my husband like she has a claim on him.”

  Gabe pinches his forehead. “I don’t know, Aaliya. I don’t know what Celia is up to. But I can assure you that she is not his wife.”

  “I don’t believe you!” I sink into a chair and put my hands on my face. The visual of Damien kissing that woman plays on loop in my head. It makes me want to throw up. What has my life come to? In the space of a few days, my entire reality has changed.

  Gabriel kneels in front of me again. “Celia is a known manipulator, Aaliya. She only does things for her own convenience. I swear to you upon all that I hold holy that Damien married only one woman in his life and that is you. Celia was his late brother’s fiancée.”

  And that’s why she looked so familiar!

  She was in the funeral photographs I’d seen on the Internet that fateful night when I learnt about Damien’s accident and his truth. She was the one crying in his arms in that picture.

  “What just happened?” I ask, still unconvinced.

  “Stay here,” Gabe orders, “I’ll go and find out.”

  Damien

  Istare, unseeing, outside the window as I ponder the last two days of my life. I’m still struggling to come to terms with everything. My breath catches in my throat as a sudden, sharp pain shoots across the back of my brain. I hold my head until it disappears. The headaches come and go, but all the tests they conducted on me indicate that I am going to be fine. Well, as fine as possible given the circumstances. Each time I try and pressurize my brain to recollect anything from the last five years, my head starts to pound fiercely. Retrograde amnesia is what they’re calling it. I still can’t process it though. How could I forget five years of my life? It makes no sense to me whatsoever. Gabe has promised some answers once the doctor has cleared me out from here, although I’m still waiting to find out when that will be.

  The door to my room opens and Celia saunters in with a huge smile plastered on her face. My brows rise in shock. Why is she here?

  “Damien,” she rasps, coming towards me with open arms.

  Before I can respond, she grabs hold of my face and plants her lips on mine.

  What the bloody hell? I push her away from me a second later. Smiling, she turns to the nurse with a pointed brow.

  My jaw slackens. We had a spectator? What is Celia trying to prove? And why?

  The nurse glances i
n my direction. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, for earlier. I’m sure your husband will be in good hands now.”

  Wait, what? The nurse is addressing Celia and not me?

  Oh My God! I married Celia Parker and I don’t even remember it!

  “Darling,” she gushes. Her hand reaches to touch my face and I flinch, leaning away from her.

  Her lips tighten as she pulls her hand back, but a second later her usual cool mask slips into place and she tilts her head to observe me. Every part of me recoils from the knowledge that I married her.

  How could I have done that?

  Why the fuck would I have willingly tied myself to Celia?

  I have known Celia Parker forever. Her family is entitled, her father an earl. Our parents were friends and that’s why she was always around while I was growing up. I may not remember the past five years of my life, but the time before that is crystal clear as if it was yesterday; I guess to me it is yesterday.

  At one time, I thought that Celia would make a suitable partner for me. Maybe I loved her even. She was beautiful, a good friend and I assumed we shared a mutual affection. But my love for her died when I proposed to her and she turned me down saying that she was born to be a Duchess. She started dating David, my elder brother, soon after. David knew of my fondness for her and like the sick bastard he was he gloried in the fact that she preferred him. My flesh still crawls each time I remember how she succeeded in manipulating me back then. My relationship with her after that never survived her greed and her need for power.

  Then why did I marry her? I study her for a moment. Seeing me observe her, she juts her chin out and tosses her blonde hair away from her face. She is immaculately dressed, as always, in a dark green pantsuit. She looks perfect in every way, but nothing can hide the cold calculated look in her blue gaze.

  What in the bloody hell transpired in the last five years that I agreed to let Celia back into my life? Good God! Why would I ever willingly touch someone who once belonged to my deplorable brother?

  The door opens once again and Gabe enters. “What the fuck, Celia?” he roars. “Why would you claim to be Damien’s wife?”

  The knot in my chest unwinds. Thank God in heaven that wasn’t true! But I ask anyway, “You mean she’s not my wife?”

  “Of course not!” Gabe throws me a disgusted look. “She was engaged to David. Please tell me you’ve not forgotten that.”

  Before I can respond, Celia laughs aloud. “Damien, I said that just to meet you since the nurse wouldn’t allow me inside. Your mother warned me that Gabe has placed a lot of security measures in place around you and no one could meet you without his permission.”

  “So, you thought to push your way through by claiming to be my wife? That is outrageous,” I lash out.

  Nothing’s changed with her. She’s still the same manipulative woman I’ve always known her to be.

  “Oh, don’t you go biting my head off. Your mother suggested this, in fact.”

  “Did she now?” So, my mother and she are still thick as thieves! Some things remain the same in spite of the years and my memory loss.

  My mother! I give a belligerent sigh thinking of her. She visited me last night and I wish she hadn’t. She threw words like role and responsibility, title and power at me without a concern that her only living son was just recovering from a terrible accident that had caused him to lose a big part of his memory. And now she’s trying to maneuver me through Celia. After ignoring me for most of my life, if she expects to run it now, now that I am the Duke; she’s going to be highly disappointed. Throughout my growing years, my parents only had eyes for David, their heir. Now David isn’t there, but I am, and the one thing I know about myself is that I will never let my mother control me ever.

  I level an icy glare at Celia. “Please leave.”

  “But I wanted to meet you. I lied because I wanted to see for myself that you are okay.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “I heard about your memory loss. I’d like to help…”

  I can’t believe that after the act she pulled she has the gall to offer me aid. I shake my head. “I want you to go, Celia.”

  Her face reddens and she storms out, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang.

  “Thank God that wasn’t true,” I repeat aloud.

  “Celia only knows how to cause destruction wherever she goes. Tread wisely with her, Damien. She’s grown worse over the years.”

  I suddenly remember something that Celia said. “Why have you put security measures around me? What’s going on and what have you not told me?”

  He looks into the distance, as if contemplating something. The dark smudges under his eyes stand out against his pale complexion. He looks bone tired; his dark hair is overly long and thick stubble covers his usually smooth jaw.

  “Gabe,” I call out, “thanks mate for everything you’ve done! I am grateful to you.”

  He gives me a warm smile. “You would have done the same for me, so no thanks needed.”

  I nod, because it is true. I’d do anything for him. He is one of my closest friends and I trust him more than anyone.

  “Anyway, I have something for you to hear,” he says. Gabe hands me his cell phone and puts it on speaker.

  “Gabriel, it’s me Damien.” My eyes snap to him as my own voice drifts up through the phone along with the background sounds of cars and honking.

  “My father and brother…they…they were murdered. I think I may have stumbled upon something. They were mixed up in something horrible, Gabe. Someone is threatening to destroy the Kittridge line and I have a hunch who it is. Gabriel, promise me to protect…”

  The line beeps and goes dead. Goose bumps erupt all over my skin and I rub my arms to ward away the chill that has suddenly shrouded me.

  He exhales. “You sent me this voice message just before your accident. Do you know you took my name just before you fainted? That’s how the police knew to get in touch with me.”

  “And this,” I ask, handing Gabe his phone back, “Is this it? Or is there more?”

  He shakes his head in the negative.

  The message replays itself in my mind. Someone is threatening to destroy the Kittridge line and I have a hunch who it is. My words repeat in my head but no matter how hard I think, I can’t recall uttering these words. I force myself to remember and pain shoots up my head with a blinding whiteness and I immediately stop searching for answers.

  I rub my head, willing the pain to subside. “Fuck! It can’t be a coincidence, my accident and theirs. Something sinister is going on, Gabe. But I can’t remember what I knew. It’s just a big blank.” The last sentence comes out with more force than intended.

  “Take it easy, Damien. Don’t stress yourself right now. Do you want me to contact the police?” Gabe asks.

  “NO!” I yell and his forehead wrinkles.

  “Gabe, my father and brother were destroying my family legacy. I remember their dealings in the illegal trade of blood diamonds and precious jewels, and this is from five years ago. I can only imagine what terrible deeds they must have done in the past five years in the name of Annette & Co. to make them richer, and I don’t remember any of it. Annette & Co. is one of the oldest jewelry houses in the world and they were destroying its foundation. It’s my legacy now and I will do anything to protect it. If we involve the police, it will all come out; God knows what they’ll unearth. I can’t afford the scandal, especially not at this time when I don’t have any control over my memories. We have to keep it quiet, Gabe.”

  “Then that’s what we will do,” Gabe concurs.

  One question however raises its head and I voice it aloud. “Who do you think I wanted you to protect?”

  Gabe’s brows draw together. “What?”

  “My last words on the voice message to you, before it disconnected. I asked you to promise me to protect someone. Who do you think it was?”

  He searches my face and just as he opens his mouth to reply, his cell
phone rings. He stares at the screen and says, “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

  Gabe steps outside to take the call. My voice message replays in my mind. Whom did I want to protect? Who was I afraid for? The only person I can think of is my mother. But she and I have never been close, so why would I want Gabe to protect her specifically? I wait for Gabe to return but I guess his call is taking more time.

  I don’t blame him for his cellular distractions, and there are plenty. He has a huge and massive business to run, Gamma Inc. It’s our joint business. He’s the marketing genius behind our architectural and design empire. I’ve always handled the design aspect of the business we built together and now, sitting here, helplessly stuck in this godforsaken hospital bed with no clue as to what we’ve achieved or lost in the last five years is pissing me off in more ways than one. Gabe’s assured me that we’ve spectacularly grown and prospered and that there’s enough time for me to return to work after I recover. I rub my temple. I need to get out of here and soon.

  The door opens and Gabe returns with someone behind him. A sudden glare of light shines brightly on my face. I turn to the window in surprise as the sun peeps out of the dark clouds. I could swear it was raining only a few minutes ago. I turn my head to Gabe and blink as he moves and a woman steps in front. With the sun blaring down on me, I can barely make out her features. I see her through the haze of light blinding me, but something about her triggers a memory in my head.

  Images whizz through my mind at a dizzying pace. I shut my eyes, clutching my head as my mind is swarmed with flashes I can make no sense of, places I’ve never visited and people I’ve never seen. The images blur together, spinning faster and faster in a continuous loop in my mind, until my head is exploding with pain.

  Gabe’s terrified voice calls out to me as I hear myself screaming. And then there is blessed darkness.

  Aaliya

  Two months later

  London