Who Are You Again?

Chapter 3

The next few days pass in a blur, my memories slipping back into place like pieces of a puzzle. Jonah checks on me every day, playing the role of the dutiful husband, while Kellin sneaks in every night so we can plan.

"Ten more days, Jae. We can do this," he whispers, his voice steady despite the weight of our plan. He’s the only one who knows I remember everything. I haven’t told Jonah. I haven’t told anyone.

I nod, though my nerves coil tight in my stomach. "Let's shut it down for the night, Kel. I’m tired."

He studies me for a moment, then nods. "Okay. Get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow."

He slips out, locking the door behind him. I exhale, sinking onto the bed, and sleep takes me quickly.

Cold water splashes over my face, jolting me awake. I gasp, shivering as Jonah towers over me, expression unreadable.

"Get up," he orders, tossing a light pink evening gown onto the bed. "Put this on. We have a dinner party tonight, and I don’t want you embarrassing me."

His words are clipped, impatient. He barely spares me a glance before heading for the door. "Knock twice when you’re done. A guard will take you upstairs to have your makeup done."

The door shuts behind him, and I glare at the dress, my lip curling. What now, Jonah? At least he thinks I’ve accepted my fate. This dinner party is proof of that.

I slip into the dress and knock twice. A burly guard opens the door and leads me upstairs.

“Well, look at that. You can look presentable.”

I don’t need to turn to recognize the voice—Elena, my mother-in-law. The sharpness in her tone makes my skin prickle, but I say nothing.

My makeup is done in silence. When I finally look in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. You can do this, Jae.

Heels click against the marble floor. I turn just as Anessa saunters in, her golden waves cascading over her shoulder. She stops beside me, brown eyes glinting with amusement.

"You know, you can put makeup on a pig, but that doesn’t make it any less of a farm animal," she sneers, her smile saccharine and cruel.

I arch a brow. "I’m sorry. Do I know you?"

Her smirk falters. Rolling her eyes, she huffs, "Still as stupid as ever." Then, without another word, she struts away.

Good. Had she stayed any longer, I might not have been able to restrain myself.

I descend the stairs, my dress trailing behind me. Jonah barely glances up before announcing it’s time to go.

In the car, I press myself against the door, as far from him as possible. Jonah sits across from me, absorbed in his phone. Anessa slides in beside him, all too pleased with herself.

"Oh, hey, sis. You’re here," she chirps, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You look great today. I just love how your red hair screams farmer’s daughter. But doesn’t it clash with the dress?"

She giggles, clearly entertained by herself. Jonah, lost in whatever business occupies his screen, doesn’t even react. Anessa rolls her eyes.

I don’t take the bait. Instead, I offer a tight-lipped smile and turn to the window, letting the city lights blur past.

When the car pulls to a stop, Jonah steps out first, offering his hand—to Anessa. He helps her out, then shuts the door.

I blink. Rude.

With a sigh, I push open the door myself and step out.

The ballroom is a masterpiece of excess—gilded chandeliers cast a golden glow over polished marble floors, and the air hums with the sound of hushed conversation and the clinking of crystal glasses. Every detail is meticulously curated to exude wealth and power, a reminder of Jonah’s world and my place in it.

I stand at the edge of the room, careful not to let my unease show. Jonah’s hand rests lightly on my waist, the perfect picture of a devoted husband. To anyone watching, I am nothing more than his doting wife.

Anessa flutters around him like a moth to a flame, her laughter too loud, too practiced. She drapes a hand over his arm, whispering something that makes him smirk. I suppress an eye roll. Let her have her fun. I have my own plans tonight.

A waiter passes, and I pluck a flute of champagne from his tray, taking a slow sip as my eyes scan the room. I recognize a few powerful faces—business moguls, politicians, and their perfectly polished spouses. Every person here has something to gain from their association with Jonah, and none of them see me as anything but a decorative accessory.

Perfect.

I catch movement from the corner of my eye—Kellin. He’s in the far corner of the room, engaged in polite conversation with a councilman, but his gaze flickers to mine, brief and knowing.

Jonah stiffens beside me, his grip tightening ever so slightly on my waist. “Stay here,” he mutters before stepping away to greet a high-profile investor.

The moment he’s out of earshot, Elena materializes at my side, a venomous smile curving her lips. “You’ve learned well, dear. Standing there, looking pretty, keeping your mouth shut.”

I tilt my head, returning her smile. “I do my best,” I murmur.

Her expression falters, but before she can respond, a hush falls over the room. The host, an older gentleman with a formidable presence, raises a glass. “A toast! To Jonah, for securing the deal of the decade!”

Applause erupts, and Jonah steps forward, smugness radiating from him as he lifts his glass in acknowledgment. My stomach twists, but I keep my expression neutral.

Then, a server passes by, subtly slipping a folded note into my hand. I unfold it beneath the table, Kellin’s sharp handwriting standing out against the crisp paper:

Stay steady. Almost there.

My pulse quickens. I set my champagne down and remain seated, my fingers tightening around the note. Jonah’s eyes flick to me, suspicion barely masked beneath his charming veneer.

I meet his gaze, keeping my expression composed, the faintest smile playing at my lips.