FAZER LOGINI spent the entire night thinking about my father, Patrick Hart. If anyone could tell me what had happened during those missing ten years, it was him.
In my memories, he had always been my biggest supporter. Strict in business, yes, but with me, he was always gentle. I was his only daughter, and he had never been shy about spoiling me. When I was a child, he used to tell everyone that one day, I would inherit everything he had built—the Hart family fortune, Hart Enterprises, all of it. So naturally, I believed that going home would give me the answers I desperately needed. I was wrong. The address on my phone brought me to a small house on a quiet, modest street. I stared through the car window, my brows furrowing. "This can't be right." The driver checked the GPS. "It is, ma'am." I looked at the house again. It was small, old, and completely unlike the sprawling mansion where I had grown up. There was no tall iron gate, no security detail, no pristine garden, and no long driveway. I stepped out of the car slowly. Maybe my father had moved. Maybe the mansion was being renovated. I walked up to the front door and knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung open—and my heart stopped. "Dad?" Patrick Hart stood before me, but for a moment, I could barely recognize him. His hair had gone entirely gray, his face was gaunt, and he looked decades older than the father I remembered. I smiled instinctively. "Dad." The moment his eyes registered my face, every trace of warmth vanished. There was no joy, no relief, no surprise—only cold, sharp hatred. "What are you doing here?" his voice was flat. I froze. "I came to see you." "You shouldn't have. I don't want to see you." My heart sank. "Dad..." "Don't call me that," he snapped. "I don't understand—" "Of course you don't," he let out a bitter laugh. "You never understand anything until it's too late." "I need your help," I pleaded, tears stinging my eyes. "With my life." "Your life?" He scoffed. "You destroyed it yourself." "What did I do?" "Don't," his eyes narrowed. "Stop pretending. You always have an excuse." "I'm telling you the truth! Something happened to me!" "Something happened to you?" He stepped closer, his voice trembling with fury. "You happened to us." I stood there, speechless. He turned back toward the dark living room. "Go back to Liam." "Liam?" I followed him. "Your husband. Whatever else you have done, Liam is the only person who still has the patience to deal with you." "Dad, where is our house?" I stepped inside. "Where is the mansion?" His expression hardened into stone. "We don't have one. The Hart mansion is gone." "Why?" He looked straight into my eyes. "Because of you. You gave it away." "To whom?" "You gave everything away!" he barked. "The company—Hart Enterprises. Everything!" I couldn't breathe. "My company? Why would I do that?" "That's the question you should be asking yourself!" "Who has it now?" Patrick stared at me with intense bitterness before uttering the name I had heard only hours before. "Edward Fox." A cold chill ran down my spine. Edward. The same man Liam accused me of having an affair with. "Who is Edward Fox?" I asked desperately. "You brought him into our lives!" Patrick yelled. "He was just a scholarship student!" That triggered a faint memory—a quiet young man sitting alone in a lecture hall. My father had recognized his brilliant mind and decided to sponsor his education. "He was the student you gave a scholarship to," I murmured. "What happened?" "You happened," my father repeated bitterly. "You trusted him more than your own family. You stood right in front of me and begged me to hand over control. You said he was brilliant, that he could take the company further than I ever could." "I... I wouldn't say that." "You did! And because of that, I lost everything—the company, the mansion, our family's fortune. Sold off and stripped away." "Is that why you hate me?" My voice broke. Patrick stopped near the door, looking back at me with eyes full of deep, unbearable grief. "I don't hate you because you made a mistake, Abigail. I hate you because you watched me lose everything... and you still chose him." "I don't remember any of this..." "I know," he said softly, holding the door open. "Maybe that's the only mercy you've ever been given." "Dad!" I grabbed the edge of the door before he could close it. "Did I... did I really love Edward?" Patrick looked at me with an unreadable expression. "I don't know what you called it. But you chose him over everyone else." The door clicked shut, leaving me standing alone on the porch. My phone vibrated in my hand. I looked down at two new notifications on the screen: Edward Fox: We need to talk. Edward Fox: You can't keep avoiding me. My fingers went ice-cold. I didn't know what had transpired during those missing ten years, but now I knew where I had to start. If I wanted to understand the woman I had become and why my family was destroyed, I needed to face the man she had chosen over her own blood—Edward Fox.I discovered something very strange about my marriage that morning. Apparently, husbands and wives in this house didn't behave like a married couple. They behaved like polite, distant roommates who occasionally shared a hallway. I stood in the corridor, staring at two separate heavy mahogany doors. My bedroom. Liam’s bedroom. Right next to each other. Completely separate. I frowned, taking a step forward and knocking on his door. No answer. I knocked again, louder this time. "Lee?" The door swung open. Liam stood there, already impeccably dressed in his charcoal suit for work. He looked down at me, his eyes cool and neutral. "What?" "Why do we have separate bedrooms?" He stared at me for a beat, his eyebrows pulling together. "You’re asking me?" "Yes." "Abby, you’ve been sleeping in that room for years." "I don’t remember those years, Lee!" That shut him up immediately. His rigid expression softened for a brief, vulnerable fraction of a second. He looked at me—truly looke
Dinner at the Montgomery mansion was surprisingly normal—at least for the first ten minutes. Charlotte sat right beside me, enthusiastically recounting a drama that had unfolded at her school. Apparently, one of her classmates had snuck a live frog into the classroom inside his lunchbox. "That sounds absolutely terrifying," I commented, taking a sip of my juice. "It wasn't!" Charlotte protested. "It was a frog, Charlotte. Cold, slimy, four legs." "It was cute, Mommy!" "Four legs!" Charlotte giggled, shaking her head at my dramatic reaction. Across the table, Liam shook his head in amusement. "Are you really afraid of frogs, Abby?" I glared at him. "I am not afraid of frogs." "You screamed your lungs out when you saw one in the garden once," he noted smoothly. I stared at him. "When?" "When we were kids." "That doesn't count!" "You climbed onto a metal folding chair." "I was protecting my life!" "From a tiny green toad?" "It could have been toxic!" Charlotte burst int
I decided that if I wanted Charlotte to trust me, I needed to start somewhere. Breakfast seemed like a safe, low-risk entry point. How hard could pancakes be? Apparently, extremely hard. I stood in front of the high-tech stove, staring down at the pan in sheer disbelief. The first pancake was already a terrifying shade of midnight black. I poked it with a spatula. It made a solid, metallic clack sound—reminding me of someone knocking on a thick wooden door. "Okay... that’s not good." I flipped it anyway. The other side was somehow worse. I sighed and dropped it onto a porcelain plate. One down. I could still salvage this. The second scoop of batter went in. I turned down the heat. Too low. I cranked it up. Too high. Smoke began to curl gently toward the ceiling. "Why do you hate me?" I whispered to the pan, staring at it like it had personally betrayed my trust. Behind me, soft, tiny footsteps padded across the marble floor. I quickly straightened up, throwing the spatula over
I woke up the next morning in a bedroom that apparently belonged to me—at least according to everyone else in this giant mansion. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and walked into the walk-in closet across the room. I opened the first door. Shoes. Stiletto heels in every shade imaginable. I opened the second. Bags. Designer purses so expensive they looked like they needed their own personal bodyguards. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, picking up a pair of black heels with soles so high they looked like a public safety hazard. "Why would I buy these?" I checked the label, did a quick mental currency conversion, and realized I had apparently paid enough money for these shoes to feed a small family for three months. I put them back immediately, feeling personally offended by my future self. The next section was filled with dresses. Silk, satin, backless cuts, plunging necklines. Ten years ago, I owned jeans, sneakers, oversized hoodies, and approximately three dresses. Apparently, thirty-ye
The moment we left the restaurant, Liam didn’t say a single word. Not one. He opened the passenger door for me, waited until I stepped inside, and shut it with a firm click before walking around to the driver’s side. As he started the engine, I turned to look at him. He stared straight ahead at the road, his jaw set in a rigid line. I leaned in a little closer, searching his profile. Still nothing. A slow, playful smile spread across my face. Oh, this was going to be fun. “Were you jealous?” I asked, tilting my head. His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel. “No.” “You definitely looked jealous.” “I was not.” “Then why did you come all the way there?” “Like I said before, I happened to be nearby.” I raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Silence. I turned my body toward him. “You drove forty minutes.” “I had a meeting.” “With whom?” “Someone.” “Very convincing, Mr. Montgomery.” Liam let out a heavy sigh, his grip on the wheel turning his knuckles white. I cover
I stared at Edward Fox’s name on my screen for nearly five minutes before finally agreeing to meet him. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. In my memory, Edward was a quiet college student with cheap glasses and an oversized jacket—the brilliant, impoverished boy who always carried a stack of heavy textbooks. My father had funded his scholarship because he was so impressive. I remembered passing him in the university hallways. A polite nod. A brief exchange of pleasantries. Nothing more. Certainly nothing that explained why my husband looked like he wanted to murder him, or why Edward was texting me as if we were close. The restaurant was impeccably elegant, perched on the top floor of a skyscraper—the kind of place twenty-year-old me would only see in movies. I sat near the window, nervously sipping my water. Five minutes later, a man stepped through the entrance. I almost didn't recognize him. He was tall, impeccably dressed in an expensive dark suit, and carried himself with







