(Kay's POV)
Kay remembered the first time she saw Duke Jameson
It was a winter evening, cold and silent, when her father had brought her into a dimly lit room filled with men in suits. She was barely eighteen. A girl with carefully curled hair, a delicate dress, and a spine of steel.
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "This is your future husband."
Duke had stood across the room, leaning against the fireplace, his dark eyes watching her with nothing. No curiosity, no interest, no disdain—just complete and utter indifference.
She had hated him instantly.
Not because he was cruel or unkind, but because he did not look at her the way a man should look at his future wife. She was nothing to him.
And yet, three months later, she walked down the aisle, dressed in lace and diamonds, while a church full of people pretended this was love.
It wasn't.
It never had been.
Their marriage was a business arrangement, a carefully crafted deal between two of the wealthiest families in the region.
The Jamesons needed power. The Winslows needed legacy.
Kay had understood that. She was raised for it. But what no one had told her what no one had warned her about was that Duke had already given his heart to someone else.
(Duke's POV)
He never wanted to marry Kay.
It wasn't personal. She was beautiful, intelligent, and fiercely independent a woman any man would be lucky to have.
But she wasn't her.
She wasn't Elena.
The woman he had loved.
The woman he had planned to marry.
The woman who had died.
Duke had tried to fight it. He had begged his father to reconsider. But in the world of power and politics, love was irrelevant.
"Elena is gone," his father had said coldly. "And you will do your duty."
So, he had.
He had stood at that altar, placed a ring on Kay's delicate finger, and promised a lifetime of loyalty but never love.
And Kay had known.
She had seen it in his eyes from the beginning that there was a ghost between them.
But she had married him anyway.
For the first few months, they had played their roles well.
They attended galas, hosted charity events, stood together in photographs the perfect image of a powerful couple.
But behind closed doors, there was nothing.
No affection. No warmth. Only cold civility and unspoken resentment.
Kay had tried, in her own way.
She had sat across from him at dinner, speaking of politics and business, waiting for some sign that he saw her.
He never did.
Instead, he spent his nights in his study, alone with his ghosts.
And Kay, despite all her strength, had begun to realize something
She wasn't just trapped in a loveless marriage.
She was trapped in a cage of Duke's past.
And no matter how hard she tried, she would never be Elena.
It was on their first anniversary that everything changed.
Kay had swallowed her pride and planned a private dinner in their estate. She wore a dress Duke had once complimented. She ordered the wine he always drank.
She had been hopeful, just for a moment.
But Duke never showed up.
She waited.
And waited.
And when the clock struck midnight, she walked to his study and found him there, drunk, alone, staring at an old photograph.
A woman's photograph.
Kay had felt something shatter inside her that night.
She walked in, snatched the photo from his hands, and threw it into the fire.
"She's dead, Duke," she had said, her voice shaking. "And I refuse to live in her shadow anymore."
Duke had looked at her then, really looked at her, for the first time in their marriage.
And what he said next broke her.
"Then stop trying to replace her."
That was the night Kay stopped caring.
That was the night their marriage truly died.
Now, years later, they remained bound together—not by love, but by secrets.
Kay had built her own life, her own power.
She controlled the household, managed their estates, kept the image of their marriage intact.
But beneath it all, she had learned something crucial:
Duke wasn't just haunted by Elena's memory.
He was hiding something about her death.
Kay was determined to find out what.
Because if Duke thought she would sit back and accept her place as his forgotten wife
He was wrong.