THE DEAD BILLIONAIRE’S SECRET HEIR

TheRescueMissionAborted

Raindrops seemed to be knocking a thousand glasses against each other as it was pouring heavily outside.

Liza Perry glanced at the clock hanging over the counter. Nine forty-seven pm, definitely too late for customers.

Deliveries are late. Too late to be outside in general. Yet, the woman continued cleaning surfaces and packing uneaten sweets. The scent of fresh baked goods was filling the cozy bakery and made her feel better somehow.

This was the only thing she had left after everything. This place, built by her father. That bakery had meant the world to him. She tried to take care of it for him ever since he passed away. Sometimes she wondered if she tried to save his dream or to hold him back somehow. It hurt to think of it, and she suppressed the thought. There was no time for regrets. Not when the bills awaited payment. When Noah needed new sneakers. No matter how much she had been afraid of it, life continued going on and on.

A dinosaur backpack lay behind the cash desk. It was Noah's. Liza smiled involuntarily. Her crazy life provided her with one bright spot, at least one impeccable achievement. One beautiful child who had made all her sacrifices worth it.

Thunder was rumbling overhead. Lights were flickering. Liza jumped. "Alright, that's my signal." The woman grabbed the keys and switched off the lights. The bakery was plunged into darkness. Now it was only the lamps illuminating outside that could provide a slight light. The storm was becoming stronger. Sheets of rain were falling from the sky. Wind whistled between the buildings and it was possible to feel its anger through the walls.

Liza headed for the stairs that lead to a small flat above the bakery, but suddenly stopped in her tracks. A movement outside. A silhouette. The figure appeared in the pouring rain, stumbling along the street. Liza gasped. She thought initially that her imagination played tricks on her again. Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning. Liza had time to recognize a tall figure with wide shoulders moving awkwardly, as though each step required enormous efforts from him. The man was wet to the bones and kept his head lowered. She had briefly wondered if it was some drunkard. But then his head lifted and she had seen the trickle of blood running down his face despite the rain. Another step forward and then another one and suddenly his knees gave way. He fell onto the ground. Liza's heart missed a beat. "Oh my God." The woman dropped her keys. Unlocking the door and rushing outside, she hadn't even hesitated. The rain instantly soaked her sweater. Liza's face was hit with cold drops of rain.

In every direction, the storm raged around her. The stranger lay still. Panic rose up in her throat. "Sir!" Nothing. She bent down next to him. His skin was cold. It was getting too cold for him. Blood mixed with rain water near his temple. She touched the man to check if he had a pulse, her hands shaking.

Please. Please. Please.

His heartbeat was steady and clear enough.

Alive.

Relief overwhelmed her. "Thank God."

The stranger emitted some moans and his eyelashes flickered. But then he was motionless again. Liza scanned the area. There was nobody on the street. No cars were driving around. No pedestrians were walking. Nobody to help. In a storm, she found herself alone with an injured stranger who didn't respond to anyone. A rational person would have called for help. Would have waited till the ambulance arrived. Wouldn't have brought an unconscious man into her home.

However, Liza wasn't really used to avoiding people who needed help, even at the risk of her life and wellbeing. "You're seriously messing up my evening," she muttered under her breath. With a lot of effort, she carried him upstairs, dragging the stranger inside, putting his arm across her shoulders. He was an awfully heavy man. Ridiculously heavy. Twice she nearly slipped. She arrived on her living room, panting and with the whole flat drenched from rain. She put the stranger on her sofa. Liza scrutinized him now. He was attractive in a dangerous way, powerfully built, dark-haired. He had that kind of face that looked good in magazines or trouble alike. Trouble for sure. She should have found it hilarious. Instead, she was worried because she thought that she knew this person in spite of the injuries and blood. She just couldn't remember where she was from.

Liza wiped away the traces of blood and cleaned his wound on her forehead and put a bandage over it. Then she covered him with a blanket, having sat in an armchair nearby and listened to the storm raging.

She must have been asleep for some time because what she had heard next was a horrified scream. Liza woke up with a start. The stranger had bolted upright, breathing heavily. Frightened eyes widened. His whole body was trembling in horror.

"No!" he cried out. "No, don't…"

He paused, having cast his scared gaze at Liza. Horror was swiftly replaced with confusion. For a minute or two, they just sat there, looking at each other, not moving, not saying anything, just staring.

The stranger had amazingly blue eyes. Intense, confused, looking for something that couldn't be found. Like a person desperately trying to remember something out of reach.

“You're awake," Liza said hesitantly.

The stranger coughed lightly.

"Where am I?"

"Above my bakery."

The confusion grew worse. He looked around the flat. Sofa. Blanket. Kitchen. Windows. As if he had never seen them before. Or maybe never seen anything else at all.

Liza felt strange shivers run down her spine.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You fainted outside," Liza explained.

The man frowned. "Outside where?"

"The bakery."

Confusion on his face grew deeper. "Why was I there?" "You can tell me why.

"Silence.”

The stranger stared at Liza, as if trying to find an answer in her eyes. Waiting and thinking.

For several seconds, he was quiet. Then the next minute or two. Abruptly, his face changed. It turned into one of genuine fear. Real panic that wasn't possible to pretend.

Wait." His breathing sped up. "I..." His voice cracked.

Liza sat in front of him. "What is it?" The man took a drink. He found it difficult. "I don't know." Dread seized Liza's insides. "What don't you know?" The stranger looked at her intently and she could finally realize the reason for his terrified look. Not the fear of being hurt, not a dread of pain. Fear of himself. Fear of the emptiness of his mind.

"I don't remember who I am," he said. Silence filled the room. The storm outside seemed to have calmed somewhat. Liza gazed at the stranger. He must be kidding, making fun of her. But it was clear by his expression in his eyes that he wasn't playing a game at all. This was true. He was truly afraid.

"You don't remember who?"

The stranger put his hand to his head, frowning. "Well, I don't remember," he said hastily. "I... I don't remember my name."

He cast an anxious glance around the room again. Like there was a chance of remembering something from it. "I don't know where I came from," he murmured. A pause. His mouth tightened in determination. "I don't remember anything," he added barely audibly.

For some reason, it frightened Liza even more than his scream. When people are lying, they don't look like that. Act like that. This was real. What had happened to him? The stranger looked at his hands, which kept shaking violently. "What is wrong with me?" Liza was speechless, but it was the moment when Noah appeared in the hallway, disheveled little dark curls on top of his head, pajamas covered with dinosaur, tired-looking eyes.

Four-year-old Noah. "You shouldn't be here, my darling," she said quickly. The boy rubbed his sleepy eyes and realized who was sitting on her sofa. Curiosity overcame him immediately. "Who is that?" The stranger looked at the child intently. And vice versa. Something had happened in the room for a reason they both could not comprehend. Something strange. Something nearly magical. Noah stepped a few steps closer to the stranger. He looked like he met a ghost. For an unbelievable second, something flashed in the man's eyes. An emotion. Acknowledgment. Consciousness. Not complete, but somehow aware of, but then it was gone.

Noah pointed at him. "You look sad," he stated. The stranger gaped in amazement. Children sometimes say things adults can't say. Before Liza could apologize to him, the man answered to Noah instead. "Do I?" Noah nodded vigorously. Really, really. "Like when my favorite dinosaur gets lost." To Liza's surprise, the stranger laughed. A rough but sincere laugh. First genuine reaction she saw. Then the child laughed, too. The man seemed to laugh with him for the first time, too. Liza felt strange but inexplicable sensations watching their communication. It was like the lost man sitting on her couch was no longer a stranger to her anymore and this frightened her more than she should have been frightened.