Rebirth: Flirting with a Dangerous Billionaire

Who Am I?

The bright strip lights seemed to wash the colour from the world. The stringent smell of bleach mingled with the odour of humanity. I pressed my hands onto the bedsheets, rough and stiff from repeated washing, and tried to sit up. It was a mistake, the room began to spin, and my stomach twisted. I quickly clasped a hand to my mouth. "You have a severe head injury. Try not to move." the voice came from a nurse rushing to my bedside. "Sit back and relax dear, I'll let the doctor know you're awake."

How did I end up in the hospital? I continued to clutch at the sheets feeling the familiar feeling of panic was bubbling up inside. I took a deep breath to calm down. I couldn't afford this private room had yet to occur to me. Waking up in the hospital, the injury or how I got here did cross my mind but were not why my stomach began to sink. The manicured hands that had gripped the bedsheets, the blonde hair that fell in front of my eyes as I sat up, the shape of the petite body beneath the sheets...all belonged to someone else.

Okay. So. Let's think this through. The last thing I can remember was going to the bar. Ivy was a no show. What then? I was hammered, and I vaguely remembered a couple arguing, but that's it. Before I could think more, the doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the end of the bed.

"Afternoon. I'm doctor Parsons. How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts and feels like it's full of cotton wool. I feel like I'm gonna vomit. What happened to me? How did I get here?" The doctor was advancing in years. He gave me a stern look across his glasses. "There was...an accident. The circumstances are unclear. You fell quite a distance; memory loss is normal. You have a minor brain injury. You're lucky this could have easily been more severe. Can you tell me your name?"

I have many questions, but my instincts are telling me to keep quiet. No one would believe I have woken up in someone else's body. I shake my head and wince at the sharp blinding pain. After sending the nurse to get some medication, the doctor continued, "Do you know your age?"

Another long silence, the doctor's forehead wrinkled in concern as he gave up. "Well, It's good that you are awake. We will continue to monitor you for a while. Due to your injury's nature and circumstances, we will need to schedule a mental health assessment. Let me check your bandages" I look down and notice for the first time that my new thin pale arms, wrapped in bandages. I sat back and allowed the medical professionals to fuss over me, trying to piece together a reality.

After signing something off on the chart, the doctor left. My opportunity had arrived. With the nurse's help, I made it to the bathroom, I needed to think in private, but most of all, I needed to look in a mirror. As we walked, I pictured myself. I usually stood at average height. Thanks to all the manual labour involved with work, I was lean and athletic. I had long dark curly hair and tattoos. I could already tell that I was drastically different now.

The nurse left me alone, closing the door behind her, and there I was. Have I gone mad? The woman in the mirror was also in her twenties, but that was the only thing in common. This body was not my body, the body of Lena Clark. It was like a porcelain doll was staring back at me, pale, petite, and slim with long blonde hair and big green eyes. The eyes, I have never seen eyes so bright. My normal eyes were hollow and tired by comparison. An event like this was impossible. A wave of nausea washed over me, and hot acidic vomit rose up my gullet, pushing the rising questions down on their way past.

The toilet was right behind me, and I felt a cold sweat break out, trickling behind my ears. It tickled. I clutched at the metal bowl in front of me, my mind noting that it had no seat. It was an odd thing to notice, but I needed anything to distract me from this situation. I don't know how long I sat there, seconds? Minutes? Long enough for the concerned nurse to knock on the door

"Are you okay in there?" The muffled voice contained both elements of concern and impatience. The nurse probably had other patients to attend.

It was a lot to take in. First, I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. Then, I stood up and looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I had been hoping that it had been a temporary hallucination. However, the woman in the mirror was still alien to me.

I washed my new face and rinsed my mouth before opening the door and colliding with the nurse. The nurse looked at the toilet behind me, "oh dear, vomiting is quite common following head injuries. Let's get you back to bed." I stifled a bitter laugh, knowing nausea had nothing to do with the head trauma. The nurse took my arm, and I had no choice but to follow advice. I waited patiently whilst the nurse turned down the sheets.

I took my place with my head propped up against the pillows. I zoned out and was almost oblivious to my surroundings. Nurses came and went, constantly chattering, sometimes baring food. Yet, I found myself able to perform the bare minimum required to minimize their concern and pestering.

I questioned my sanity and found myself wondering if Lena had ever existed. Maybe I had multiple personalities. I needed the doctor to come by again. Now I had processed the initial shock. I was in a better state to ask questions. Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance. To my dismay, the doctor was preceded by a couple in their 50's.

Later I would come to know their names were Emmerson and Eva Morgan, but for now, they introduce themselves as mom and dad. Emmerson was tall and sturdy, his red hair greying at his temples. Eva looked a lot like the girl in the mirror, but with fine lines around her pale blue eyes.

It was easy to get lost in the whirlwind that followed. The couple referred to me as Mara Morgan. She was a college student from an affluent background. Mara had a blended family consisting of her mother, stepfather, and two brothers, the eldest of which was her stepfather's son. I had felt considerable guilt when meeting Mara's parents. I was an imposter, and they seemed like good people. However, their very presence highlighted my flaws, primarily my greed. I couldn't believe my luck. Mara had everything I had ever wanted. I just had to reach out and take it.

It was a tearful reunion. I failed to hide that I didn't recognize these people, and they were distraught to learn of the memory loss. An excuse fell into my lap, and I judged it the most straightforward course of action. Let's pretend I had forgotten everything. My new body had been found at the foot of a tall building on campus, with head wounds consistent with a fall. The fall's circumstances suggested a ritualistic suicide due to the strange symbols carved into my skin. That at least explained the bandages.

Naturally, the idea that Mara may have tried to commit suicide, and had possibly joined a cult, had almost destroyed her parents. Deprogramming is a topic that they will cover in the mental health assessment. No witnesses were present to clarify if she had fallen, jumped, or pushed. I couldn't explain it either. Even if I had woken up in my own body, I still couldn't account for the past 24 hours based on the date. My first thought was I needed to get out of here to find answers, but my resolve dissolved almost immediately. The life of my dreams was within my grasp, but it may be fragile. It might shatter if I handle it roughly, and I would be back where I started...or worse. Regardless, they intend to monitor my mental health closely. Being detained for having multiple personalities would not be ideal. I must be patient.

Each day blended into the next in the coming weeks, all of them containing interviews and assessments. Luckily my memory loss and personality changes were attributed to head trauma. My bandages eventually came off, and the strange symbols carved into my arms began to heal. Finally, I began filling in the paperwork for my discharge into the care of my new family.

So I could maintain my mental stability, my visitors had been limited to Mara's parents. I listened attentively on their daily visits while they talked about my two new brothers. We discussed the family home and how they couldn't wait to be a happy, healthy family again. For the first time in many years, I felt the familial warmth and security I had missed. Every visit, without fail, they checked on my progress, assuring me they would help me through this.

My stay was bordering on a month when my doctor advised I was safe to return home. I was excited to meet the other family members and delve straight into my new life, but I could feel guilt and fear festering deep inside me. A small part of me always feared I could lose it all. I had already decided to be resolute in my decision, to commit to this new life, but before I could, I needed to look back one last time. Go home, just once, to find out why this happened. This way, I could put my fears to rest. Even if this were only temporary, I would find a way to make it permanent.

We were greeted at the entrance to the hospital by a black estate car complete with a driver. The car was pristine, and the windows tinted. Anxiety began to eat away at my newfound comfort as we headed outside of the city, past luxurious gated communities, and into a more rural area. I wanted to ask where we were going, but I couldn't seem to form the words. As we were driving, I tried to suppress the negative thoughts. They are as familiar now as old friends and come to me directly through habit.

We drove for another thirty minutes, and I tried to find comfort in my company. Rationalizing that if they wanted to do away with me, they wouldn't have come to the hospital in the first place. Despite my fear of abandonment, I feel at ease in the apparent delight on their faces. Emmerson and Eva are the pictures of happiness, and as the house came into view, any residual worries melted away.

I had suspected wealth, but not on this scale. The Morgan's modest description of their home did not do justice to the sprawling manor before me. Suddenly it made sense why it was a short drive from the civilization. You wouldn't find this in a city. It wouldn't fit. Our tires make an audible crunch as they make their way up the long driveway which loops around in a circle around a grass island. An ornate fountain sits in the middle of the island, but that's just the beginning. The manor itself is beautiful, littered with flowers and ivy. Both fight for a place as they wind around pillars or the many windows. It was opulent, breathtaking. I have never felt more inadequate.

The car stopped outside the large doors, which immediately threw open upon arrival, framing a tall young man who looked similar to me in age. I know that despite the two eldest children being adults, the whole family Morgan family lived at home. There had been some debate over the youngest of the family. He attended boarding school and had just left to start the new term. Emmerson felt he should be at home to support my return. Eva thought he was too young to understand the situation fully, and we would see each other at Christmas. They would decide I would use the time to adjust in the end. It was already September, and it was only a few months.

However, the elder brother was at home and had come to greet me. Like his father, he was handsome; he was athletic, and his red hair seemed vibrant against his pale skin. He was smiling, yet my approach was hesitant. There was a hungry look in his eyes that gave me butterflies.

"I've missed you", his voice boomed. He pulled me into his embrace, where I squirmed. He smelled nice, his chest was firm, and his grip intended to be comforting. I wish I had to luxury to enjoy this. Instead, my face flushed, and I stood awkwardly, not knowing where to put my hands while I frantically tried to recall his name. To my right, Mara's parents seemed to notice my discomfort. Emmerson placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his deep voice advising, "Give her some space Cain, this is a big day for her." Cain, why was the name familiar? A moment's hesitation and a dark shadow momentarily flit across Cain's face. Within seconds he regained his composure, grabbing my bag and handing it to one of the Morgan's many staff members before turning back to me. "You'd better come in then", he beckoned, grabbing my hand.