Novel-novel oleh Nkem

The following week unfolded like a storm without end. Damien found himself trapped between two worlds—the past Elena painted with her silver tongue, and the present Amelia fought desperately to hold together. Each woman pulled at him with a force he could neither resist nor reconcile.Elena was constant, filling his mind with fragments of the life they had shared before. She spoke of moonlit dances on Italian balconies, of promises whispered in secret gardens, of the fire that had once consumed them both. When she smiled at him, Damien felt a tug of familiarity that warmed and unsettled him all at once.And yet… Amelia lingered in the corners of his heart like an ache he could not name. Her voice, her touch, even her silences stirred something deeper. When she looked at him with those wounded eyes, he felt guilt, yes—but also a strange pull, a connection that no memory could quite explain.One evening, Damien wandered into the library, restless and weary from the endless conflict. Ame

The days that followed Elena’s arrival felt like a cruel test of endurance for Amelia. Every corner of the mansion echoed with Elena’s laughter, every meal turned into a stage where Amelia played the silent, bitter wife while Elena basked in Damien’s warmth.The staff, though bound by loyalty to Amelia, dared not speak against the woman their master now adored. Whispers trailed in the corridors—servants speculating about what might happen if Damien chose Elena over his lawful wife. Some pitied Amelia, others avoided her gaze altogether, as though her suffering were too heavy to witness.But Amelia refused to vanish into the shadows. If Elena thought she could return and erase her, she would soon learn Amelia was not so easily destroyed.It began one morning at breakfast.Amelia entered the dining room dressed in a deep emerald gown, her hair swept up elegantly, diamonds glittering at her throat. She had taken her time that morning, determined to remind Damien—and Elena—that she was Mr

The Blackwood mansion had never felt so suffocating.All morning, Amelia moved like a shadow, her every breath tight with dread. Damien’s words from the day before echoed in her mind like a curse: “The woman I remember. The one I believe is my wife.”That woman had a name.Elena.Amelia had heard whispers of her before—stories told in hushed tones by the staff, fragments of gossip about Damien’s former fiancée who had vanished suddenly, leaving him broken. Amelia had never pressed for details; Damien had never offered them. She only knew that Elena had been his first love, his obsession. And now, with his memory twisted by the accident, Elena had become the ghost resurrected to torment Amelia’s marriage.When the grand doors opened that afternoon, Amelia’s heart lurched violently.Elena stepped inside like she owned the world. Tall, graceful, and dressed in a pale lavender dress that shimmered like sunlight on water, she was the kind of woman people noticed instantly. Her raven-black

The drive back to the Blackwood mansion was silent, suffocating even. The hum of the car engine was the only sound Amelia could hear, and yet every beat of her heart pounded in her ears louder than the tires on the road.She sat stiffly beside Damien, stealing glances at him when she dared. His profile was sharp, distant, the same as it had always been—but the way he looked out the window now was different. Not cold, not calculating, but lost. He wasn’t glaring at her, wasn’t scowling in irritation the way he had during their marriage before the accident. No, this Damien didn’t even acknowledge she existed.And somehow, that hurt even more.When they arrived, the mansion’s grand doors opened as though the house itself was holding its breath. The servants bowed respectfully, murmuring greetings of “Welcome home, sir… Madam…” But Damien’s steps didn’t falter, not even when Amelia’s name was spoken. He walked inside without a word, without so much as a glance at her, and Amelia felt like

The doctor’s words clung to Amelia like a curse.“Mrs. Blackwood, your husband suffered a head injury. Temporary memory loss is common. Don’t pressure him to remember. Familiarity may help… or it may not. Recovery takes time.”Time. The one thing she no longer had.Amelia nodded weakly, though the doctor’s explanation did little to soothe her. How could she “not pressure him” when he had just denied her very existence? How could she sit back and wait while Damien—her husband—looked at her with the eyes of a stranger?When she returned to his room, her heart lurched.Damien was no longer in the bed.Instead, he stood by the window, tall and imposing despite the hospital gown. His posture was perfect, regal even, as though he had stepped straight from the pages of a financial magazine instead of an ICU ward.The nurse beside him stammered nervously. “Mr. Blackwood, please, you need to rest—”He silenced her with one glance, the same icy authority that had once made entire boardrooms tre

The wedding hall smelled of roses and betrayal.Golden light spilled from the chandeliers, catching the curious eyes of the city’s elite. Amelia’s fingers trembled against her bouquet, though she kept her chin high. She could hear the whispers anyway.“She doesn’t belong here.”“Why her?”“A pawn, nothing more.”They were right. This wasn’t about love—it was survival.Her father’s debts had crushed them. Her family’s honor hung by a thread. And the man who saved them now stood at the altar, tall and unyielding.Damien Blackwood.The city’s most ruthless billionaire. Impeccably suited, dark eyes unreadable, lips pressed in a line that spoke of indifference rather than joy.When the priest told him to kiss the bride, Damien leaned in, his lips brushing hers for the briefest moment. To the crowd, it was romance. To Amelia, it was a contract sealed.“Remember your place,” he whispered.Her heart sank. Even on her wedding day, she was nothing but his pawn.That was two years ago.Now, Amel