LOGINShe was his wife, bound by a contract. He was her husband, but he couldn’t remember her face. When Amelia Hart-Blackwood walked down the aisle, she thought she was securing her family’s future. Instead, she found herself trapped in a loveless marriage with Damien Blackwood — the cold, ruthless billionaire who only saw her as a pawn. But just when Amelia thought things couldn’t get worse, an accident stole Damien’s memories. Suddenly, the man who once ignored her looked at her like a stranger… and treated another woman as if she were his bride. To the world, Amelia is invisible. To Damien, she’s nothing but an imposter. Yet as secrets unravel and enemies close in, Amelia must decide: fight for the love she never had… or walk away before her heart shatters completely. In a world of wealth, betrayal, and forgotten vows — can love truly be rewritten?
View MoreThe mansion had always been quiet — too quiet. The kind of silence that used to comfort Amelia now felt suffocating. It pressed against her chest, heavy with secrets.Days had passed since her unsettling encounter with Elena. Though nothing was said outright, something had shifted in the air. Elena’s smiles had grown softer, sweeter — and more dangerous. Damien, meanwhile, seemed trapped in his own haze of confusion. His tenderness toward Amelia flickered on and off like a candle fighting against the wind.Amelia noticed everything.She saw how Damien’s eyes occasionally clouded over when she mentioned the past, how he hesitated before speaking her name. She noticed how Elena always seemed to appear at the wrong time — offering a reassuring hand, a sympathetic smile, and words that dripped like poison masked in honey.One evening, Amelia lingered in the hall outside Damien’s study, the low murmur of voices drawing her closer. She shouldn’t have been there — she knew that — but somethi
The rain had stopped by morning, but the mansion still felt drenched in something heavier than water — silence, tension, and unspoken truths.Damien sat in his office, staring at the documents on his desk, but the words blurred together. His mind wasn’t here. It hadn’t been for days.Every time he closed his eyes, fragments of the past flickered — Elena’s laughter, Amelia’s tears, two timelines tangled into one. The harder he tried to separate them, the more they bled together.He didn’t hear the door open until a soft voice broke through the fog.“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”Elena stood at the doorway, her figure framed by sunlight spilling through the window. She wore a pale blue dress that whispered as she moved — the same shade she’d worn the day he’d first met her years ago.He looked up, startled. “Elena… what are you doing here?”She smiled faintly. “I was worried. You’ve been distant lately.”“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”She crossed the room slowly, each step del
The mansion had grown quieter since that night, but silence, Amelia realized, could be the loudest kind of noise. Every echo, every flicker of shadow in the corridor seemed to whisper of something unseen — something stolen.The letter.Its absence gnawed at her like a secret she couldn’t unhear. She had checked Damien’s study twice since then, pretending it was just to tidy or find a book, but she knew what she was looking for. It was gone.And yet, she said nothing.At breakfast, she sat across from Damien, stirring her tea without tasting it. He seemed distracted too, his gaze distant, his hands unmoving around his untouched coffee.“Did you read the letter?” she asked casually, watching his face.He looked up, startled. “Letter?”Her stomach dropped. “The one the maid found. From the old study.”He frowned, thinking. “Oh. Right.” He shook his head slowly. “I haven’t seen it since that night.”Lies — or confusion. She couldn’t tell which.“Maybe someone moved it,” he said absently,
The storm outside had raged all night, lashing against the glass walls of the mansion like a wounded beast. By morning, the world was washed in gray — the kind of silence that came after chaos, heavy and uneasy.Amelia stood by the window, her reflection faint against the misted glass. Her thoughts were a storm of their own. Every glance, every word from Damien lately carried a tension she couldn’t name. It was as if he were being pulled apart, thread by thread, by ghosts she couldn’t see but could feel.When the knock came, she turned sharply.“Come in.”A maid entered, clutching a silver tray. On it lay a single envelope, yellowed at the edges, the handwriting elegant yet faded.“This was found in the old study, ma’am,” the maid said quietly. “Inside one of the drawers that were recently opened for cleaning.”Amelia frowned. “Who is it addressed to?”The maid hesitated. “Mr. Damien. But it looks… old.”Amelia reached for the letter, her pulse quickening as her fingers brushed the ro






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