The Billionaire's Lost Memory

Damien's pov

Fuck. My head was pounding like someone was hammering inside my skull. The white ceiling above me was blinding, and the sterile hospital smell made me want to gag. I tried to move but felt like I was stuck in quicksand-heavy, slow, useless.

Who the hell am I? The question burned in my brain, but no answers came.

A soft voice-familiar, yet utterly alien-cut through the haze.

“Damian? You’re awake.”

I turned my head, blinking against the light. There she was-a woman with eyes full of hope and something else I couldn’t place. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s me. Elena.”

The name meant nothing. I wanted to believe her, but my gut screamed otherwise.

“Who are you?” I croaked, my throat raw.

She swallowed hard, pain flashing across her face. “I’m your wife.”

Wife. The word hit me like a punch to the gut, but I felt nothing. No memory, no spark.

“Why should I trust you?” I whispered, voice rough. “I don’t even know who I am.”

Her hand reached out, trembling. I flinched like she was a stranger trying to burn me.

“You once told me you’d love me even if I forgot you,” she said, voice breaking. “I’m still holding onto that.”

A faint scent-lavender-wafted by. For a second, my chest tightened. It felt like home. Or a memory I couldn’t catch.

I looked down at my hand-no ring. But something was missing. Something that should be there.

“You were in a car crash,” she said softly. “You’ve been in a coma.”

I tried to piece it together. A melody teased the edges of my mind-piano keys, laughter. Gone before I could hold it.

“People want to hurt us,” she whispered.

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust her. But my mind was a blank slate, and doubt gnawed at me like a rat.

The room was silent except for the steady beep of the monitors.

Then the door slammed open.

The door slammed open like a gunshot!

A tall woman stormed in, eyes cold as ice. Her gaze locked on Elena like she was a threat, a venomous snake ready to strike.

“Enough, you bitch!" she snapped. “This isn’t about care. She's here to steal everything.”

My heart hammered in my chest. I didn’t know these people, but their hatred was poison in the air.

“Who are they?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.

The woman stepped forward, lips curling into a cruel smile. “We’re the Blackwood, your real family.” 

The name hit me like a punch. Blackwood. It sounded familiar, like a warning buried deep in my mind.

She fixed her icy stare on Elena. “We have proof she caused the accident. She wanted your fortune.”

Elena’s eyes filled with tears. I reached out, desperate to believe her, but my body recoiled, like she was a stranger trying to burn me alive.

“Please,” she begged, voice cracking. “You have to believe me.”

But the doubt was already there, dark and heavy, like a shadow between us.

“We’re taking him away,” the woman declared, voice cold and final. “For his own good.”

The world tilted. I was a stranger in my own life, caught between a wife I didn’t know and a family accusing her of betrayal.

I looked at Elena-her fear, her tears-and said nothing.

The door slammed shut behind them.

And with it, the last piece of my hope.

Hours later, I woke in a dim, quiet room. My head was a mess of pain and confusion, but one thing burned clear-Victoria’s name.

How the hell did I know it?

I forced myself to remember. The name wasn’t a stranger. It echoed faintly in the back of my mind, like a half-remembered nightmare. I didn’t know why, but Victoria Blackwood felt like a warning-someone I was supposed to fear.

I looked over at Elena, who sat nearby, exhausted but watching me like I was the only thing keeping her alive.

“Who is she?” I croaked.

Elena hesitated, then said, “Your sister. She’s… complicated.”

“Complicated?” I scoffed. “She just accused you of trying to kill me.”

Elena’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s scared. And she’s trying to protect you in her own way-even if it’s wrong.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe anything that would make this nightmare stop.

“Why do I feel like I’m caught in the middle of a fucking war?” I muttered.

Elena reached for my hand, and this time I didn’t pull away. “Because you are.”

The next hours blurred into a haze of doctors, legal threats, and whispered arguments. Victoria and her crew pushed hard to have me moved to a private facility, away from Elena. They painted her as a manipulative gold digger, someone who’d caused my accident to claim my fortune.

But Elena fought back, refusing to let me go with a fight.

Between the chaos, tiny flashes of memory teased me-a laugh, a song, a touch. None made sense, but they felt like pieces of a puzzle I had to solve.

That night, alone in the dark hospital room, I stared at the ceiling and whispered to myself, “What the fuck happened to me? And how can I know who to trust?”

The hours dragged on like a slow, cruel nightmare. Elena stayed by my side, but the distance between us felt like a canyon. I wanted to reach out, to grab onto something familiar, but my mind was a blank slate, and every touch felt foreign.

Victoria’s name echoed in my head like a warning siren. How did I know it? Why did it feel like a threat?

I tried to focus on Elena’s face-the way her eyes shone with desperation, the tremble in her hands as she clutched mine. But then Victoria’s cold voice cut through my thoughts again, accusing, sharp as a knife.

“She’s using you,” Victoria had said. “She’s here to take everything.”

I wanted to scream at her, to tell her to shut the hell up. But my voice was gone, swallowed by the fog in my brain.

A nurse came in, checking my IV and adjusting the monitors. “You need to rest, Mr. Blackwood,” she said kindly, but I barely heard her.

Rest? How could I rest when my whole world had been ripped apart?

That night, the hospital room felt like a prison. The moonlight spilled through the window, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together fragments of a life I couldn’t remember.

A laugh. A melody. A touch.

They teased me, just out of reach.

Elena’s voice whispered in my mind, “We can start over. Together.”

But could I trust her? Could I trust anyone?

The silence was shattered by the sharp ring of my phone on the bedside table. Elena answered quickly, her face paling as she listened.

“They know,” she said, voice tight. “They’re coming.”

My heart hammered. Who was coming? And what did they want?

Before I could ask, the door burst open again.