Chapter 1

1129 Words
Today was supposed to be the day I tried on my wedding dress. In the mirror, I was dressed in a long white lace dress with the most well-practiced, gentle and proper smile on my face. As Damian's fiancée, the future wife of a high society tycoon, I was expected to play my role perfectly, to be demure, submissive, and to always stand behind him. For five years, I did my best. I suppressed all the edges of my personality and personal preferences, even in the bedroom, wondering if I lacked charisma because of his increasingly cold reactions. I blamed it all on his busy career, thinking that our relationship was just entering a dull phase that required patience. I drove my car, ready to meet him, still contemplating how I would surprise him tonight. Suddenly, a blinding beam of high beams came barreling in from the side, followed by the sharp, ear-splitting sound of brakes and the charred smell of tires rubbing against the ground. "Bang-!" The violent impact made me lose all consciousness instantly. I had a splitting headache. I struggled to open my eyes and the first thing that caught my eye was the ghastly white ceiling of the hospital, followed by Damian's handsome but warmth-less face. "Norah, you're finally awake." He leaned over to look at me, the impatience in his tone like a thin needle poking through his false concern. I tried to speak, but my throat was as dry as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. The door to the hospital room was pushed open and Damian's brother Lucien walked in. He had his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, a hint of mockery, if any, hanging at the corners of his mouth, and his deep eyes scanned over the two of us as if he were watching a good show. "What did the doctor say?" Lucien's voice is low, with a scrutinizing edge to it. Damian immediately yanks him to the door and lowers his voice, but in the dead silence of the room, his every word sticks in my ears like an ice pick. "Bro, the doctor said Norah has temporary amnesia!" Damian's voice was full of suppressed excitement and calculation. Memory loss? My heart skipped a beat and my fingertips curled up uncontrollably. "Just in time!" Damian's voice was lower but clearer, "Brother, Serena and I have been together for a long time. Now that she's lost her memory, you can take care of her as my stand-in boyfriend, and Serena and I can have some fun, how exciting! When she remembers, just make up an excuse. Anyway, she won't be able to escape." My blood, at that moment, went completely cold. It turned out that all my five years of self-doubt and repression had been nothing but a joke. He's not tired, he's just bored and hooked up with my best friend, Serena, a long time ago! The door is pushed open again and Serena walks in, dressed in a smartly tailored professional suit, she walks right up to Damian and takes his arm affectionately, looking at me in the hospital bed like a victor. "Norah, you're awake? Great!" She walks quickly to my bedside, her face filled with just the right amount of worry, but the flicker of amusement in her eyes doesn't escape me. I looked at her, my best friend, my estate attorney. All I could feel was a wave of revulsion as I looked at her face with concern written all over it. Serena held my hand, her fingertips were cold, her nails painted with delicate cardamom gently scratched the back of my hand, she said softly, "Norah, don't worry, I'll keep an eye on the inheritance left by your parents. You take a good rest now, I'll take care of everything." My legacy! Is this her way of warning me, or is she just showing off everything she's about to get her hands on? I struggled to lift my hand to reach for my cell phone at the foot of the bed. Damian presses down on the phone as quickly as he can, the warmth of his palm coming through the covers but sending a stinging chill down my spine. In an icy tone, he commands, "Norah, don't move." He knew my bank codes! With all my might, I squeeze a few words out of my dry throat, "Bank ...account ..." Damian and Serena looked at each other, Serena's smile froze for a moment before she regained her composure, "Norah, don't worry, I've got you covered." Damian coughed lightly and turned to Lucien, "Brother, it's settled. I'll leave with Serena first, Norah's boyfriend, you take good care of her." After he finished speaking, he took Serena and turned around to leave, his back was as determined as if he was throwing away a piece of trash. Lucien and I were the only ones left in the hospital room. There was dead silence. Lucien's gaze fell on me, and it was so quiet that it was scary, a kind of scrutiny with weight, as if he wanted to see through me. It was a long time before he spoke faintly, "Damian is still the same, no improvement at all." I didn't move a muscle until I was sure the pair of dogs were gone, then I slowly opened my eyes. There were no tears in my eyes, only a blazing fire of anger that nearly burned the bleak hospital room to ashes. Damian, Serena. Since you pushed me into the abyss with your own hands, don't blame me for crawling back from hell and dragging you down with me! This game, you guys started it. But the ending, I will decide! Before I could think about it, Lucien came back with the completed discharge papers. "Let's go." His tone was calm and unquestioning. I was half-helped and half-led out of the hospital, and was directly shoved into the passenger seat of his sports car. The cold touch of the leather seats made me shiver. The car sped along and eventually stopped in front of a luxury apartment on the top floor of the city center. The night was getting late, and the apartment was lit only by a few dim wall sconces, the ambiguous light pulling Lucien's figure into a long and dangerous shape. I was placed in the guest room, and a sense of foreboding welled up in me. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the door to my room was pushed open. Lucien leaned against the doorframe, his eyes deep, the corners of his mouth curled up in an uncertain smile. He approached me step by step, exuding a strong sense of possessiveness and irresistible oppression. What does he want?
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