ログインEthan didn’t say a word as I dropped to my knees, pulled the briefcase out from behind the trash bin, and aggressively spun the dials back to 0 5 1 2. The click of the latches popping open felt like the sound of a hammer hitting a glass wall."Amelia, what is that?" Ethan asked, kneeling beside me on the plush carpet. His eyes were fixed on the worn leather, his brows furrowed in deep confusion. "I’ve never seen that briefcase in my life.""Because they hid it from you," I said, my voice shaking as I pulled out the thick manila folder and handed it to him. "Your amnesia wasn't an accident, Ethan. Read it. Please, just read it."He took the folder. I watched his gray eyes scan the first page, his expression transitioning from curiosity to absolute bewilderment, and finally, to a terrifying, deadly stillness. The color completely drained from his face. His fingers gripped the edges of the medical papers so tightly that the heavy stock wrinkled and tore under his thumbs."Compound X-72
The morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains, casting long, golden lines across the master bedroom. I woke up slowly, feeling a deep, comforting warmth wrapped around me. Ethan was still asleep, one of his heavy, muscled arms draped possessively over my waist, pulling my back flush against his bare chest. I listened to the steady, calm rhythm of his breathing. For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting myself believe that the nightmare was finally over. The phantom ache that had lived in my chest for five long years was gone, replaced by the reality of his skin against mine. Slowly, trying not to disturb him, I lifted his arm and slipped out of bed. I pulled on one of Ethan’s oversized white button-down shirts, the cotton smelling wonderfully of his cologne, and walked out into the quiet hallway. He looked so peaceful asleep, the hard, stressed lines completely erased from his face. I wanted to let him rest. After the public explosion at the gala last night, to
The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was a sea of glittering diamonds, expensive Outfits, and fake smiles. It was the night of the Smith Enterprises welcoming gala, the event meant to solidify Ethan’s return and cement his future merger with the Vance family. I stood near a towering pillar, feeling completely invisible. Ethan had insisted I attend. He had instructed his staff to deliver a dress to my room—a breathtaking, emerald-green gown that fit me perfectly, draping over my curves like a second skin. But no matter how expensive the dress was, I still felt like a girl from the wrong side of the tracks playing dress-up. Across the room, Ethan was surrounded by a crowd of wealthy investors and politicians. He looked magnificent in a classic black tuxedo, his jaw set, his gray eyes scanning the room with his usual cold authority. Standing tightly by his side was Chloe. She wore a dramatic white gown that looked suspiciously like a wedding dress, her hand wrapped possessivel
The morning after the kiss, the mansion felt even colder, filled with an awkward, heavy silence. I spent most of the day hiding in my guest room, staring out at the manicured gardens and playing the memory over and over in my head. His lips had been so desperate. He had kissed me like a man drowning, reaching for a lifeline he couldn’t see. But when he ran away, he had locked himself right back behind his walls. By the time night fell, a heavy storm had rolled in over the city. Thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the large glass windows of the estate. Unable to sleep, I wrapped a soft knit cardigan around myself and slipped out of my room. The house was dark, lit only by the occasional flash of lightning from outside. I made my way down the grand staircase, hoping to find a glass of water or a book to distract my racing mind. As I passed the downstairs living room, I noticed the double doors were slightly ajar. A single, dim lamp cast long shadows across the floor. Fro
The air in the boardroom was suffocating. I sat on the edge of a plush leather chair, feeling utterly out of place beneath the bright, recessed lights. Across the long table sat Ethan, his face was unreadable. To his left was Dylan, who kept pacing the room like a predator, and to his right was Chloe. She was glaring at me with an intensity that could have burned a hole right through my head. Two corporate lawyers in perfectly black suits stood near the window, speaking in hushed, urgent whispers over a laptop. "This is absurd," Chloe finally snapped, her high heels clicking aggressively against the floor as she crossed her arms. "Ethan, darling, why are we delaying the gala press releases for this? She is obviously a delusional scammer. Look at her! She probably looked up your accident records, found a gap in your timeline, and faked a document to get a payday." I kept my chin up, refusing to let her see how much my hands were shaking under the table. "I don't want your money,
The glass tower of Smith Enterprises looked like a giant shard of ice cutting into the gray morning sky. Standing at the entrance, I felt incredibly small. Wealthy businessmen in tailored suits and elegant women in designer dresses pushed past me, flashing sleek security badges to get inside. They all belonged here. I didn't. I smoothed down the front of my only nice outfit—a simple, dark blue dress I usually saved for funerals or job interviews. In my hand, I clutched my handbag like a shield. Inside it, folded neatly, was the marriage certificate. "You can do this, Amelia," I whispered to myself, taking a deep, shaky breath. "He doesn't get to erase you." I walked through the spinning glass doors and into the lobby. The floor was made of polished white marble so clean I could see my own nervous reflection. In the center of the room stood a massive, curved black desk. Behind it sat a receptionist with perfectly styled hair and a headset. "Good morning. Welcome to Smith Ente
After the kiss, everything between Kane and me became messy. Because now I knew what his mouth felt like. And Kane apparently decided the solution was pretending the kiss never happened. For two days, he barely touched me. Barely looked at me. He became colder than ever, hiding behind security
The next morning felt painfully awkward. Mostly because Kane avoided looking at me. Which only made me think about last night even more. I sat at the kitchen counter sipping coffee while pretending not to watch him move around the cabin checking locks and windows for the fifth time. His dark T-sh
By the third death threat, Kane stopped asking for my opinion. “You’re leaving the city,” he said while shoving weapons into a black duffel bag. I stared at him from the kitchen island. “Excuse me?” “The penthouse isn’t secure anymore.” “It has twenty-four-hour security.” “It was breached twic
I woke up angry. Mostly because Kane Ryder was standing in my kitchen at six in the morning looking like he owned my penthouse. I walked into the room wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt, still half asleep, and stopped short when I saw him. He stood beside the counter drinking black coffee w







