تسجيل الدخولAlexander Voss stood at the windows of his penthouse, gazing down at Manhattan’s sprawl. The city didn’t care if he was watching or not. It just kept going, the same as always. Lately, though, everything felt far away. Like he was watching it all through glass.
Two years. That’s how long it had been since he rushed home to find his house burning, his life with it. He’d charged inside anyway, shouting for Sophia through smoke that tasted like ash and panic. He found nothing. Just what was left.
He never cried at her memorial. Didn’t say a word. He just stood by while people handed him empty words about a marriage they thought was perfect.
They didn’t know about the fights. The affairs—hers, not his. The way she’d started looking at him, like he was the last thing she needed to escape.
His phone buzzed. Lila. He answered.
“Alex? You need to come home.”
“I’m working.”
“It’s serious.” She hesitated. “Someone’s here. Says she’s Sophia.”
He almost dropped his glass. Scotch splashed down his wrist.
“What?”
“She showed up about an hour ago. With a doctor. Says she survived the fire but doesn’t remember much. She’s been hiding. Says she was terrified.”
His heart banged against his ribs. “Send me pictures.”
“I did. Check your phone.”
He opened the message. There she was—Sophia’s face staring back at him. Her hair was longer now. Her green eyes, wary. But her mouth—he got stuck on that. He’d kissed that mouth a thousand times. It had whispered truths and lies, sometimes both at once.
“I’m on my way.”
The drive to the estate lasted forty minutes, but it felt endless. The mansion looked different now, rebuilt in sharp lines and glass, but he’d kept the east wing the same. Couldn’t let that go.
Lila waited at the door, her face impossible to read.
“She’s in the sitting room. Doctor’s with her.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kieran James. Says he’s been looking after her.”
Alex pushed past her. The doors were open.
And there she was.
Sophia—his wife, or maybe just a memory—perched on the edge of the sofa, knuckles white against her jeans. She wore a gray sweater. No jewelry. Not like the woman who used to demand diamonds before breakfast.
She looked up. Her eyes went wide.
“Alex?”
His name caught in her throat.
He froze in the doorway. Couldn’t make himself move.
She stood, slow, like he might bolt if she got too close. “They said you might not believe me.”
The doctor stood up, smoothing his jacket. “Mr. Voss, your wife’s been through a lot—”
“Leave us,” Alex snapped.
James paused, glanced at Sophia—no, at whoever this was.
She nodded. “It’s fine. I need to talk to my husband.”
Husband. That word hit like a punch.
James left. Lila followed, closing the doors behind her.
Silence. Alex searched her face, looking for something off. He didn’t find it. Maybe a small scar by her hairline. Her hands shook a little.
“You died,” he said.
“I know.” She hugged herself. “I remember running from the fire. Then nothing. I woke up somewhere strange. I was scared. Lost.”
“Why now?”
She swallowed. “I remembered you. Bits and pieces. Your name. This house. I needed to see if it was real.”
His chest tightened. Part of him wanted to believe her. Needed to.
But trust—that was gone. Burned out.
“Come here,” he said.
She crossed the room, slow and careful. When she stood in front of him, he reached out, thumb brushing her cheekbone.
Her skin was warm. Familiar.
She leaned into his hand, eyes closed.
A different scent—clean, like rain—drifted off her. Not the perfume he remembered.
His control broke. He pulled her in, holding her tight. She gasped and clung to his shirt.
“You’re real,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re here.”
For now, that was enough.
Eve paced the master bedroom, the thick carpet swallowing her footsteps. The storm had finally blown past, but it left behind a heavy, unnatural silence pressing in on the windows. Alex left her with a kiss on the forehead and a promise—he’d take care of Marcus. Whatever that meant. She could still hear him downstairs, voice low and sharp on the phone. Probably calling lawyers. Or security. Or something worse.She dropped onto the edge of the bed and rubbed her temples. Marcus’s words wouldn’t leave her alone: Your secret’s safe. For now. The birthmark. Of all things, a tiny detail KJ had skipped. Sophia had one. Eve didn’t. One look at her naked, and Alex might notice—if he hadn’t already. But last night, with all that heat and grief flying between them, he hadn’t said a word. Maybe he was too blinded by pain. Or maybe he just wanted to believe.Her phone buzzed under the pillow—KJ again.Status? Progress on the payout?She hesitated, then typed back: Working on it. Complications.Hi
Three days drifted past, dissolving into a haze of silk sheets, whispered half-truths, and the subtle choreography of deception. The mansion breathed with hidden life, and Eve, ever watchful, adapted to its pulse. She fell in step with the staff’s daily rituals—the clatter of breakfast trays at eight, the silent vacuuming of carpets just after noon, the muted footsteps of the maid who lingered a little too long in the east hallway. She paid attention to the smallest details, letting them root inside her mind: the way Alex’s brow furrowed when he read the paper, the precise moment he took his coffee—always black, always scalding, a ritual as unyielding as the man himself. There was an order to his days, a predictability she clung to even as she was forced to improvise her own role within it.She immersed herself in Sophia’s past, tracing her signature in the faded guest books until her hand moved with the same looping confidence. She pored over every scrap from KJ’s files—old photograp
Eve woke tangled in sheets that didn’t belong to her, the unfamiliar softness cocooning her limbs. The morning sun, bold and intrusive, leaked through gauzy curtains, painting the room in gold. For a moment, she floated in that liminal space between sleep and waking, lost to time and place. This was not her cramped old apartment, with its peeling paint and cluttered shelves—this was something grander, airier, almost too gentle for the bruised edges of her memory.Then reality crashed in. Alex’s voice last night, the way he’d touched her as if she might disappear, the taste of his mouth. The weight of what she’d done—or hadn’t done—settled on her chest.She pressed her face into the pillow, the scent of him—coffee, soap, something darker—filling her lungs. She wondered if she was trying to breathe him in or drown herself. What was she doing here? Was this her life now, or just another mask?The door creaked open. Alex entered, balancing a tray with practiced care. Steam spiraled from t
Eve struggled to breathe.It wasn’t because Alex was holding her too tight—though he definitely was. Every second in his arms chipped away at the walls she’d spent years building. He looked just like the photos, just like Sophia had always described. Tall. Broad shoulders. The scent of his cologne, expensive with a rougher edge underneath. All man.But the way he touched her—like she was both his hope and his downfall—she’d never felt anything like that before.He pulled back, just enough to see her face. His eyes—gold, burning, almost too bright up close—searched hers. Hungry. Desperate.“Sophia,” he said, voice soft.The name hit her like a slap. She wasn’t Sophia. Not ever.But she had to be, for now.“I missed you,” she whispered, the lie scraping her throat.His mouth crashed onto hers.Nothing about the kiss was gentle. Two years of grief and anger and longing all collided, pouring out in one brutal, consuming moment. His hands framed her face, holding her steady while his lips
Alexander Voss stood at the windows of his penthouse, gazing down at Manhattan’s sprawl. The city didn’t care if he was watching or not. It just kept going, the same as always. Lately, though, everything felt far away. Like he was watching it all through glass.Two years. That’s how long it had been since he rushed home to find his house burning, his life with it. He’d charged inside anyway, shouting for Sophia through smoke that tasted like ash and panic. He found nothing. Just what was left.He never cried at her memorial. Didn’t say a word. He just stood by while people handed him empty words about a marriage they thought was perfect.They didn’t know about the fights. The affairs—hers, not his. The way she’d started looking at him, like he was the last thing she needed to escape.His phone buzzed. Lila. He answered.“Alex? You need to come home.”“I’m working.”“It’s serious.” She hesitated. “Someone’s here. Says she’s Sophia.”He almost dropped his glass. Scotch splashed down his
Rain pounded the cemetery, washing the gravel paths into muddy rivers. Evelyn Harlow hunched under her useless black umbrella, teeth chattering as the last shovelfuls of dirt landed on her mother’s casket. The preacher had finished ages ago. Eve just couldn’t make herself walk away. Not yet.Now it was just her. Nobody left.Her mother, Marlene, fought cancer for three raw, endless years. It was more than enough time for the bills to bleed Eve dry—every dollar scraped from late-night diner shifts, gone. More than enough time to watch the woman who raised her—and Sophia—shrivel up in that tiny apartment, the air stinking of bleach and dread.Sophia. The name alone stung.She didn’t show up for the funeral. Eve hadn’t expected her to. Sophia vanished years back, off to her glossy new life with Alexander Voss. Yeah, that Alexander Voss—Forbes cover, billionaire, all of it. Last time Eve heard from her, Sophia was drunk, slurring accusations, calling her jealous. Like Eve ever wanted that







