Masuk
Ava's POV The penthouse is too quiet at night. During the day, there are staffs moving around, phones ringing, the city noise filtering through the windows. But after midnight, when Damien thinks I'm asleep, the silence is suffocating. I've been awake for hours, lying in the dark, listening to footsteps in the hallway. Damien paces when he can't sleep. Back and forth, back and forth, like a predator circling prey. Sometimes he stops outside my door. I held my breath until I heard him move . Tonight, he's been in his study for the past two hours. I know because I've been counting the minutes, waiting for my chance. Dr. Chen's words from this morning keep replaying in my mind: "Sometimes physical activity can help trigger memories. Walking around familiar spaces might help." Damien immediately said I should rest, not push myself. But the way he said it felt less like concern and more like a command. Like he doesn't want me walking around, doesn't want me exploring, doesn't want m
Damien's POV I Watched her sleep from the doorway, the way I've watched her every night since she came home. Ava doesn't know about the monitors in her room, the cameras I had removed whose footage I still review obsessively, trying to understand what she's thinking. Trying to predict what she'll do next.She looks peaceful now, curled on her side, dark hair spread across the white pillow. Like the girl I first met two years ago, before everything got complicated. Before she became my wife and then my enemy and now... something I don't have words for.I shouldn't be standing here like some lovesick fool. I have a company to run, deals to close, problems that require my attention. But I can't seem to walk away from her, can't stop checking that she's still here, still safe, still mine.The accident was supposed to fix everything. That's a terrible thought, the kind that proves I'm exactly the monster she accused me of being. But it's true. When the doctors told me about the amnesi
Ava's POV I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls. Morning light streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, showing a view of Central Park covered in snow. The sight is beautiful enough to hurt. For a moment, I forget where I was. Then I remember. The accident. Amnesia. The stranger who says he's my husband.Damien enters carrying a breakfast tray. He's dressed in a dark suit that probably costs more than a car, but his tie is loose and his hair slightly messy, like he tried to look casual but couldn't quite manage it. When he sees I'm awake, his face lights up."Good morning," he says softly. "I wasn't sure what you'd want, so I had the kitchen make a bit of everything."The tray holds coffee, juice, pastries, fruit, and scrambled eggs. It's too much food for one person but I didnt say that. Instead, I sat up carefully, my head still aching but better than yesterday."Thank you," I say, because I was raised to be polite even when I'm terrified.He sets the tray
Ava's POV The first thing I feel is cold. Not the cold of winter air or snow, but the cold of fear, sharp and deep in my bones. My eyes won't open. My head pounds like something inside is trying to break free. Voices float around me, low and serious. Medical equipment beeps somewhere close. Everything smells like antiseptic and pine needles, a strange mix that makes no sense.I force my eyes open. The light hurts. White ceiling. White walls. A Christmas tree in the corner, tall and perfect, covered in crystal ornaments that catch the light like frozen tears. Where am I?"Ava." The voice is soft, careful, like speaking to someone who might break. "Ava, can you hear me?"I turn my head, slow because moving hurts. A man sits beside my bed. He's beautiful in a way that feels dangerous, all sharp edges and dark hair and eyes the color of storm clouds. Those eyes watch me with such intensity that I want to look away but can't. Something about his face feels familiar, like a dream I can't







