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He Forgot Me, But Not His Obsession

Author: Tamara Love
last update publish date: 2026-04-21 22:55:21

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

LAUREN’S POV

I woke up angry.

The room was too quiet. The bed beside mine had not been slept in. My dress from yesterday was still hanging off the chair like proof that my life had become one long bad decision.

I dragged myself up, washed my face, and tied my hair back. My throat still hurt when I swallowed.

The moment I stepped out of the bedroom, I heard voices in the dining area.

“…memory gap is recent,” Marcus was saying. “Not his whole life. Just the stretch before coming
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  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Enemy of My Enemy

    Lauren’s POV I slipped out of the east wing just after midnight, my sneakers quiet on the marble. The penthouse felt like a damn pressure cooker these days. Serena gliding around like she owned the place again, flashing those fake smiles at Julian while her eyes stayed dead cold. And Julian... God, Julian. He watched everything like a shark circling blood in the water, but he still didn’t remember me. Not the way that mattered.My hand drifted to my stomach out of habit. The baby was still a secret I guarded tighter than anything. I couldn’t risk Serena or Vivian finding out. Hell, half the time I wasn’t sure Julian would even believe me if I told him right now.I took the elevator down to the garage level. I needed air that didn’t taste like lies. The underground lot was dim, I was heading for one of the fleet SUVs so I could take a drive when I noticed a shadow moved near the pillar.I froze, my heart slamming against my chest. My fingers curled around the small knife I kept in my

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Silas’s New Mission

    Silas’s POV I stared at the cracked hospital ceiling for what felt like the hundredth fucking time that day, the sterile smell of antiseptic burning my nostrils. The doctors thought I was still playing the amnesia card, but my head was clearer than it had been in weeks. Stage four glioblastoma. Three months, maybe four if I was lucky. The bullets had just sped up the clock. Funny how dying makes everything crystal fucking clear.Vivian Moreau was the real snake in the grass. I'd pieced it together from the whispers Marcus let slip during his visits and the burner phone I'd kept hidden under my mattress. Julian's empire was crumbling because of her, and Serena? That overly pampered bitch was dancing right in the middle of it. If I was going out, I wasn't doing it quietly. Not while Lauren was still tangled up in this mess.I grabbed the disposable phone from the drawer, the one with the private line that cost me a favor from an old contact outside the Cross network. My fingers hovered

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    A Familiar Pull

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    Lauren’s POV The phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans while I was hiding out in the lower-level laundry room, pretending to sort through a stack of towels I had absolutely no business touching.I pulled it out, my fingers trembling slightly. It wasn't the burner phone Vivian had compromised. It was the one Marcus had slipped into my hand three days ago, a lifeline meant only for emergencies that Julian didn't know about. I swiped the screen, pressing the receiver to my ear. "Yeah?""Lauren, this is St. Jude's Hospital," a woman’s voice whispered. "The patient in room 412. He’s awake, and he’s asking for you. Specifically. He used your actual name, not the insurance alias."My breath caught in my throat, "Silas?""Yes. He refused his midday sedation and told me to place this call. He said you’d know what it meant.""I'm on my way," I said, my voice barely a raspy breath. "Don’t tell anyone else. Especially not Julian Cross. If anyone asks, you haven't seen or spoken to me.""U

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Serena Reclaims Her Throne

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  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Dossier

    Lauren’s POV The file spread across the dining table like an autopsy.Julian had cleared everything else off — the coffee mugs, the stack of unopened mail, the small glass bowl of keys I'd started leaving near the door out of habit. Little by little, he'd pushed the ordinary pieces of our life asi

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