Mag-log inLiana Hart had built her whole life around two people, her fiancé Xavier Kane and her best friend Freya Morgan. Hours before her wedding, she discovers their affair, and marries Xavier anyway to protect her family's legacy. It's the last mistake she'll ever make as Liana. On the way to her own wedding, she's abducted and pushed off a cliff, left to die by the two people she trusted most. She survives, but loses everything she remembers. Mafia boss Adrian Blackwood finds her broken and unconscious, and gives her a new name, Diana, and a new life inside his dangerous world. As his rivalry with his stepbrother Ethan intensifies, both men are drawn to her, unaware of who she really is. But memories don't stay buried forever. As fragments of her past return, Diana edges closer to a truth far bigger than betrayal, one that will bring her old life crashing into her new one, and give her the one thing Xavier and Freya never planned for: a reckoning.
view moreLiana's POV
I froze at the doorway, my fingers tightening around the edge of the half-open door as my heart pounded against my chest. Standing inside the room...was Xavier Kane and standing before him...was Freya Morgan.
For a moment I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Xavier gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from Freya's face. God No… this couldn't be real. The same gentle gesture, the same smile, the same eyes that had always looked at me but now they were looking at her.
"You worry too much," Xavier said softly.
Freya looked into his eyes. "And Liana?"
Xavier's expression turned cold. "By tomorrow, she won't be a problem anymore."
Freya didn't answer with words. She just laughed — the same laugh I'd heard across a hundred birthdays, a hundred sleepovers, now aimed somewhere I never thought it could go.
Xavier gently cupped her face. "I promised you, didn't I? Soon, it will just be the two of us."
Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her. Freya wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Something in me just broke. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard it started bleeding, just to keep myself from making a sound. The ring on my finger suddenly felt heavier than ever.
It felt like it was only yesterday that he had gotten down on one knee and asked me to marry him.
A tear rolled down my cheek, then another. I quickly covered my mouth, forcing the sob back as I listened for any movement from the room.
My mind filled with memories of Freya—our birthdays, the secrets we'd whispered to each other, the nights we'd stayed up talking until morning. I could still hear her laughter. See her smile. Feel the warmth of every hug.
My fingers brushed against the wedding ring on my hand. I stared at it for a second before ripping it off.
I turned and ran. My eyes were burning and I could barely see where I was going. My elbow hit a vase, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Who's there?" Xavier called behind me.
I didn't stop. My footsteps echoed down the hallway as I pushed myself to run faster. I couldn't let them see me.
Behind me, I heard Freya call my name.
"Liana! Where are you?"
I got into my car and drove away. The wind dried my tears but I still couldn't breathe right. Freya and I were supposed to be laughing together tonight, just like we always did. I could almost hear her teasing me about my wedding dress and the plans we'd made for the evening.
But all I could see was Freya standing close to Xavier, her fingers brushing his arm as she smiled at him. "How could you, Freya?" I whispered. That snake.
***
I wiped my face with the back of my palm and stared out the window, trying to breathe.”My eyes drifted toward the clock on the wall. The hour hand was creeping closer to the time I had been dreading. Somewhere outside, cars were already arriving, and through the window, I could hear the faint sounds of people moving around the house. Grandpa had left earlier, leaving me alone with the silence of the room and the white dress waiting nearby.
If I ran now, everything he'd spent forty years building went with me. I could survive a broken heart. I wasn't sure I could survive watching him lose everything else because of it.
My phone suddenly buzzed. I looked down, and Xavier's name appeared on the screen.
"Liana, where are you? The wedding is about to start."
Before I could even type a reply, my phone started ringing again. Freya's name lit up the screen.
I stared at it, my thumb hovering over the answer button. The memory of what I had seen flashed through my mind. My jaw tightened.
I scoffed and declined the call. "Birds of a feather flock together," I muttered, tossing my phone onto the bed.
I faced the mirror, smoothing my trembling fingers over the folds of my wedding dress. My reflection stared back at me, a smile stretched across my lips while my eyes remained cold.
I tilted my head, studying the woman in the mirror.
Then I straightened my shoulders.
The smile on my lips deepened.
I picked up my veil, placed it carefully over my hair, and turned away from the mirror. My footsteps were steady as I walked toward the door.
Whatever waited for me beyond it, I would meet it with that same smile.
A few minutes later, I picked up my bouquet and walked downstairs.
My heels tapped against the marble floor, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. No voices. No laughter. Even the kitchen was quiet, and it's usually full of noise from the maids.
The maids stood along the corridor and smiled politely as I passed. I returned each one with a small smile of my own, keeping my fingers wrapped tightly around the bouquet.
Outside the gate, a black luxury car waited.
The driver stepped out and opened the back door.
"Good morning, Miss Hart."
"Good morning."
I gave him a small nod before sliding into the back seat.
The door shut, and the car pulled away.
I turned toward the window, my fingers still curled around the bouquet. I watched the mansion get smaller and smaller until the gates were gone.”The city gradually faded, the busy streets giving way to long, empty roads lined with towering trees.
I frowned. This wasn't the route to the wedding venue.
I leaned forward slightly. "Excuse me… I think you've taken the wrong road."
The driver didn't answer. "Sir?" Still nothing.
I reached for the door handle, but before I could pull it, a soft click sounded. The doors locked. My eyes widened as I slowly looked toward the rearview mirror. The driver's eyes met mine, and he smirked.
Adrian's POVA year. Twelve months, actually, if I was being exact about it, and I'd gotten real good at being exact about it, counting the days the way some people count debts. Twelve months of checking every corner of this city, every contact, every lead anyone was willing to hand me for the right price, and still nothing. No trace of her. No sign she'd ever existed at all, like she'd dissolved straight into the streets the same way she'd dissolved into my life to begin with — quiet, sudden, impossible to hold onto once she'd decided to go.I sat in my office most nights now, long after everyone else in the house had gone to bed, staring at reports that said the same damn thing every single one of the last three hundred times I'd read them. Nothing. No sightings. No leads. Nothing that led anywhere except back to the same dead end I'd been circling for months. I told myself I'd stop eventually. That there'd come a point where continuing to search would stop making sense and start lo
Diana's POVI started working, learning the rhythm of the restaurant one order at a time, one table at a time, my feet aching in ways I'd never had to think about before this job forced me to notice them. There was something almost grounding about it — the repetition of carrying trays and refilling water glasses and remembering who ordered what, like my body was relieved to have something simple to focus on for once, something that didn't require me to think about who I used to be or who might be looking for me.There was one dish, though, that caught something in me the first time I carried it out to a table. I couldn't explain it, not really, not in any way that made sense even to myself. It wasn't the smell exactly, or the way it looked on the plate, but something underneath all of that — a small, strange pull I couldn't name no matter how many times I turned it over in my head afterward. My hands slowed on their own as I set the plate down, like some part of me expected it to be h
Diana's POVI gave up on finding a forger the same afternoon I spotted that guard. Every hour I spent standing on some corner asking strangers about fake papers was another hour I was visible, another hour someone could clock my face and put a call through to the estate. It wasn't worth it. Not with how close that had been. So I scrapped the plan, got in the car and decided flying could wait. Driving didn't need an ID. Driving just needed gas money and somewhere to go.The highway blurred past for hours before I let myself breathe. I watched the city thin out in the rearview mirror — the skyline shrinking, the traffic thinning, the buildings giving way to long stretches of fields I didn't recognize and had no memory of ever seeing — until it finally disappeared altogether. Somewhere around the four-hour mark, my hands finally loosened on the wheel.I need to leave this fucking city, or everyone is going to find me. That thought had been circling since before sunrise, louder than every
Diana's POVI needed a way out of this city, and to do that, I needed an ID. My real one didn't exist anymore, not as far as anyone official was concerned, and I sure as hell couldn't walk into an airport pretending otherwise. So I did the only thing I could think of. I started asking around, quiet about it, careful about who I talked to, looking for someone who could get me something fake. Didn't need to be perfect. Just needed to be good enough to get me on a plane and out of this city before anyone caught up to me.Easier said than done. Every person I stopped either looked at me like I'd lost my mind for even asking, or looked at me too closely, like they were trying to work out why some woman in decent shoes was suddenly so interested in vanishing off the grid. I kept my answers short. Kept moving. Felt more exposed with every question I asked out loud, like I was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs straight back to myself.I was a few hours into it, walking down some busy street, sca






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