A Common Enemy

"Who are you?" Alena asked, though she'd already guessed. "Why am I here? Why are they calling me Serena?"

Kaevan pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. His gaze was firm, sharp, calculating.

"My name is Kaevan Aldrich. I'm the one who saved you twice—first in your apartment building's elevator, second from the fire at Manhattan Memorial Hospital six months ago."

"Why?" Alena whispered. "Why did you save me?"

Kaevan's expression didn't change. No hesitation in his tone—only cold, ruthless logic.

"Because I want to destroy the same enemy you have. Tristan Kensington. He's not just a traitor to you, but my enemy too."

Kaevan leaned forward slightly.

"Three years ago, Tristan worked at Aldrich Technologies as a senior researcher. We were developing an experimental drug formula for late-stage cancer therapy—a formula that could save millions of lives."

Alena held her breath. She remembered Tristan had indeed worked at Aldrich Technologies before marrying her.

"Tristan sold that formula's secrets to a competitor before we could complete clinical trials. As a result, our research had to be halted because the competitor patented a modified version first. We lost all funding. The project was cancelled."

Kaevan's voice grew darker, colder.

"Because of that betrayal, my company suffered massive losses. Not just money. But also... a loss that can never be recovered."

Something flickered in Kaevan's eyes—pain hidden beneath his anger. Alena didn't fully understand what he meant, but her instinct told her Kaevan had experienced a devastating loss, just like her.

"So you want to use me as a tool?" Alena asked bitterly.

"Not a tool," Kaevan replied firmly, "a partner." He looked directly at Alena. "We have the same enemy. I want to see Tristan destroyed, losing everything. And I know, after what he did to you, you want the same thing."

Alena fell silent, slowly realizing her fate was now tied to Kaevan's vengeance. In this man's eyes, she wasn't just a victim to be saved—but a weapon to destroy Tristan.

"Then why am I here? Your private clinic?"

Kaevan sighed deeply. "Because if I'd taken you to a hospital, your husband would have discovered you were still alive. And he would've tried to kill you again."

Alena's body tensed. Tristan. He was still out there. Free.

"You deliberately hid me?" Alena asked.

"Yes. This clinic is secure. Only my trusted doctors and nurses know about you. The outside world believes Alena Kensington died in that fire."

Dead.

The word hit Alena like a blow. Her breath caught.

"I've... been declared dead?" Her voice trembled violently.

Kaevan answered without expression. "The fire at Manhattan Memorial Hospital six months ago killed 47 people—mostly cancer patients being treated on the fifth floor. Your body—or what they thought was your body—couldn't be identified due to severe burns. They assumed one of the corpses was you."

Tears streamed down Alena's cheeks. Forty-seven people. Forty-seven lives lost because of a fire meant only to kill her.

"Tristan and Sienna... they did that?" Alena whispered in horror.

"I know. They started the fire," Kaevan answered coldly. "Dr. Julian Marks injected you with a muscle relaxant so you couldn't move. Then Tristan and Sienna set the blaze—planning to make your death look like suicide from depression. They didn't care that dozens of other patients would die alongside you."

Alena sobbed violently. All those victims... dead because of her. Dead because Tristan wanted to kill her.

"And worse..." Kaevan continued in an increasingly cold tone, "the police and media blamed you for causing the fire. They believe that you—Alena Kensington—deliberately burned yourself due to acute depression from leukemia. You've been declared the suspect in a mass suicide."

"No..." Alena shook her head hard. "I didn't do that! I didn't—"

"I know," Kaevan cut in. "But the world doesn't know. And because of that..."

Kaevan took his phone from his jacket and opened several news articles. He handed it to Alena with a careful but firm gesture.

"Diana Vale, Mother of Hospital Arson Suspect, Loses Entire Fortune in Victim Compensation."

"47 Victim Families Sue Diana Vale for Negligence and Suspected Arson by Her Daughter."

Alena read with widening eyes. Her mother's photo appeared on screen—a face that looked much older, thinner, more broken than Alena remembered.

"No... no... Mom..." Alena cried harder. "This isn't fair! Mom didn't do anything wrong!"

"Victims' families sued your mother as the party responsible for her daughter's actions," Kaevan explained in a neutral tone—too neutral for such devastating news. "In a lengthy legal process, your mother was forced to pay compensation to victims' families. All her assets are gone. Her house was seized. Her savings vanished. Now she lives in a small rented apartment and works as a... house cleaner to survive."

Alena couldn't breathe. Her chest constricted. Her mother—Diana Vale who once lived comfortably, who had her own home, who was proud of her daughter—now had lost everything because of crimes her daughter didn't commit.

"And Tristan?" Alena asked in a voice trembling between grief and blazing rage. "What did he get? What's his life like now?"

Kaevan's expression hardened slightly. "Tristan Kensington received your five-million-dollar insurance payout. He claims to be a grieving husband. In the media, he even announced he'll establish a mental health foundation in honor of 'his beloved late wife.'"

"BASTARD!" Alena screamed as loud as she could, though her voice was still weak. "HE'S A MURDERER! HE KILLED 47 PEOPLE AND DESTROYED MY LIFE AND MY MOTHER'S!"

Kaevan let Alena vent her emotions. He just sat there, watching with a cold but understanding gaze.

After several minutes, Alena's sobs began to subside. Only burning rage remained—rage hotter than the fire that had once consumed her.

"I have to tell the police," Alena said in a still-trembling voice. "I have to tell the truth. I'm still alive. I can testify that Tristan and Sienna did this—"

"You can't," Kaevan cut in firmly.

"Why not?!" Alena glared at him angrily.

"Because there's no proof," Kaevan answered with cold logic. "If you surface now, what will happen? You'll be arrested as the arson suspect who's been hiding. Tristan will twist the story—he'll say you're the crazy one, that you planned everything, and now you're trying to blame him. He has money, the best lawyers, a perfect alibi. You? What do you have? No witnesses. No physical evidence. Just your word against his."

Alena fell silent. Kaevan was right. Without proof, her words meant nothing.

"Then what should I do?" Alena asked desperately. "I can't let Tristan and Sienna go free. They murdered 47 innocent people. They destroyed my mother's life. They—"

"You will destroy them," Kaevan interrupted in a very calm but threatening tone. "Together we'll destroy Tristan. We'll settle this vendetta together."

Alena looked at Kaevan with questioning eyes. "How? I'm already considered dead."

"You'll use a new identity," Kaevan answered. "An identity that will let you move without suspicion. An identity that will let you get close to them, spy on them, and gather all the evidence we need."

Alena paused, then asked carefully, "Whose identity?"

Kaevan looked at Alena with an unreadable expression.

"Serena Blackwood."

Alena frowned. She remembered the doctor and nurse calling her that name earlier.

"Who is Serena Blackwood? Why are you giving me that name?"

Kaevan's expression shifted—a flash of dark emotion crossed his eyes. Grief? Regret? Alena couldn't be certain.

"My wife. She's the person indirectly killed by Tristan. Because of the research failure three years ago."