1 Three years after the car crash that supposedly stole my memory, I saw Lucas Kennedy again at a Sotheby's auction. He was there to bid on jewelry for his wife. I was there to reclaim what was mine. Years apart had etched lines of exhaustion onto his face, while I, in contrast, glowed with a newfound brilliance. The sight of me left him visibly uncomfortable. When the piece we were both there for was presented, he finally broke the silence between us. "Sophia," he said, his voice strained, "I lied to you three years ago, when you lost your memory. The truth is... I was your boyfriend." I ran a thumb over the massive diamond on my ring finger and offered him a faint, cool smile. Who ever said I actually had amnesia? … The centerpiece of the entire auction was a vintage emerald bracelet. Its only imperfection was a series of hairline fractures spiderwebbing beneath the gold of its inner clasp. Lucas’s pupils contracted. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes as he looked at me. Of course he recognized it. He was the one who had put those cracks there. That was three years ago. It was also the twentieth year of my love for him. Ever since we were children, I’d followed him around like a shadow, offering him the best of everything I had just to see him smile at me. He was indifferent at first, but with time, he grew accustomed to my constant presence. When he was eighteen, another girl confessed her feelings for him. As he turned her down, his eyes found mine across the room. The playful glint in them saw right through my carefully hidden crush. Later that day, he leaned in, his breath warm against my skin, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You know," he murmured, "yours is the only confession I've ever wanted to hear." A hot blush crept up my cheeks. I tried to pull away, but he cupped my face, his lips tracing a path from my forehead, down the bridge of my nose, and finally, settling on mine. It didn't take long for his grandfather to notice the spark between us. With his blessing, we were officially engaged. At last, I had a legitimate reason to be by his side. But that was also when everything began to change. Lucas’s gaze fell on a faint scar on my shoulder, now artfully concealed by a rose tattoo. A wave of pain washed over his features. "Sophia," he asked, his voice barely a whisper, "is that from the crash?" I smiled, my eyes as placid as if I were looking at a complete stranger. Just then, a cloying, sweet voice cut through the air. "Lucas, darling, that's the one I want! You have to get it for me, please?" The voice continued, "It looks so much like the one that—" The words died in her throat the moment she saw my face. Christiane Reed, whose face had been glowing with a triumphant smile just a second ago, went deathly pale. Her expression hardened into a mask of pure, unadulterated jealousy. She recovered quickly, tightening her grip on Lucas’s arm as if to show him off. "Sophia, what a surprise. It's been so long. Lucas and I are married now. I hope that doesn't upset you." The next second, she covered her mouth with a hand, a spark of malicious glee in her eyes. "Oh, right, I forgot. You don't even remember the past, do you? How could you possibly be upset?" I swirled the amber liquid in my wine glass, watching them with a calm, elegant poise. Christiane had changed a lot in three years. When I first met her, she was a timid girl fresh from the countryside, wide-eyed and nervous about everything. She was Lucas's junior from college and became his assistant after graduation. At first, I didn't think much of the extra attention he gave her. I was so sure of our love, so certain that there was no room for anyone else. That belief shattered the first time I walked in on him gently kissing the tears from Christiane's cheeks. My mind went blank. Lucas saw me and shoved her away, his voice laced with panic. "Sophia, it's not what it looks like. Christiane was just upset about a mistake at work. I was comforting her." I fought back the stabbing pain in my heart and forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I know." But I didn't know. I didn't know that was only the beginning. 2 After that day, Lucas and Christiane became inseparable. He said he needed to train her, to show her the ropes. But I saw them. In the convenience store downstairs from the office, she’d be standing in front of me in line, her fingers looped around his cuff, curled against him like a kitten. During meetings, her hand would be clasped in his under the table. He even canceled a dinner date we’d planned for weeks because she called him complaining of a “small headache.” That night, I stood in a torrential downpour, soaked to the bone. When I finally dragged my miserable self back to our villa, he barely glanced up from his work. "Sophia, don't overthink this," he said, his tone dismissive. "She's all alone in this city. It's not easy for her. I'm just looking out for her." I nodded, my heart twisting into a tight, painful knot. My throat was so raw I could barely speak. "I know." But only I knew that later, huddled under the shower, I cried until I couldn't breathe, letting the sound of the water drown out my sobs. I came down with a raging fever the next day. For the first time in a long time, Lucas seemed genuinely worried. He rushed to the hospital and pulled me into a fierce embrace, his voice low and thick with concern. "Sophia, how could you let yourself get like this?" I blinked open my heavy eyelids, the familiar scent of pine from his cologne filling my senses. For a fleeting moment, I felt like we were back in the good old days, before everything fell apart. Then his phone rang. Christiane's voice, a mixture of tears and a practiced helplessness, came through the speaker. "Lucas, the power's out at my place. It's so dark, and I'm scared. Can you come stay with me?" The arms holding me went rigid. Instinctively, I tightened my grip on his sleeve, but he flinched away, letting me slide from his embrace. He took a deep breath, his hand stroking my hair as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. His voice was calm, but his words were devastatingly cruel. "Sophia, you have nurses here to look after you." "Christiane's a young woman, all alone at night. She'll be terrified, she won't be able to sleep. The poor thing." "I'll just go for a bit. I'll be back before you know it." With that, he gently but firmly pulled his sleeve from my grasp and walked out without a backward glance. He never came back that night. Instead, a message appeared on my phone. He doesn't have you in his heart! He doesn't love you! He's happiest when he's with me! Why don't you just disappear, you old hag! Attached was a video of the two of them, tangled in bedsheets, their bodies moving together. A wave of nausea and rage washed over me. Combined with the fever, the world swam before my eyes, and I nearly passed out. When I woke up the next morning, Christiane was standing by my bedside. She deliberately angled her neck to show off the fresh love bites, a smug, victorious smirk playing on her lips. "You have no idea how wild he is with me, Sophia. How much he craves me. I bet he's never satisfied you like that, has he?" I was raised doted on by two families; I wasn't one to take insults lying down. I grabbed the flower basket from the nightstand and hurled it at her. Just my luck, Lucas walked in at that exact moment. Christiane immediately collapsed to the floor, sobbing into his arms. "Lucas! I just came to see how Sophia was doing, but the moment she saw me, she went crazy and attacked me…" Before I could say a word, a sharp slap echoed through the room. My head snapped to the side, my cheek stinging. "Sophia! When did you become so vicious?" Lucas roared, his eyes filled with disgust. "You're a bigger disappointment than I could have ever imagined!" I stared at him, my heart shattering into a million pieces. It was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me. 3 After that, Lucas and Christiane were even more brazen, appearing everywhere together. Meanwhile, Christiane had secretly filmed me throwing the flower basket at her and posted it online. In an instant, the internet mob descended, branding me a psychotic, spoiled heiress. Even my own colleagues at the company started whispering behind my back. "Do you think Sophia's really losing it?" "I heard she was obsessed with Mr. Kennedy for years. When he got together with Christiane, she just snapped." It got so bad that one day, a self-proclaimed crusader for justice grabbed me on the street, yanking my hair and raining down blows. "It's her! The rich bitch from the internet who bullied that poor girl! She's a homewrecker!" At the word "homewrecker," a crowd swarmed me, pinning me to the ground. Slaps landed on my face, one after another, until I was black and blue. Someone shouted they should strip me naked. A dozen hands clawed at me, their nails digging into my flesh. I clutched at the shredded remains of my dress, my pleas for help lost in the noise. No one listened. By the time the police finally arrived, I was barely conscious. They casually escorted me from the scene and dropped me off at the villa. Lucas took one look at my bruised and battered state, his brow furrowed not with concern, but with irritation. "Sophia, is this some new way to get my attention?" he asked coldly. "I've told you before, there's nothing between me and Christiane. You need to calm down and think about what you've done." Then, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone. A few weeks later, when Lucas and I returned to the family estate, the air was thick with contempt. My relatives looked at me with open disdain, whispering that I had brought shame upon both our families. Grandfather Kennedy had passed away years ago, but every time we came back, we paid our respects at his memorial. This time, however, Christiane was with us. Traditionally, only family members were allowed in the family crypt, but Lucas made an exception for her. When our relatives questioned his decision, Lucas defended her without hesitation. "Christiane may not be family, but she has more grace and respect than some people who call themselves high-society ladies. She genuinely respects my grandfather. Why shouldn't she be allowed to pay her respects?" Every eye in the room turned to me. I saw it all: disgust, mockery, judgment. I felt like I was being crucified in public. I couldn't bear it. I lowered my head and fled to the solitude of the crypt. Thinking of how much Grandfather Kennedy had adored me, my eyes started to burn. Just then, Christiane walked in. She shot me a contemptuous look, then glanced at the marble plaque with his name on it. Her voice was dripping with resentment. "Sophia, with a reputation like yours, you can't possibly still think you're going to marry into this family, can you?" she sneered. "If it wasn't for that meddling old fool and his ridiculous engagement contract, I'd be Mrs. Kennedy right now!" Before I could react, she snatched the memorial urn from its pedestal and smashed it on the stone floor. The urn shattered, scattering ashes everywhere. I stared in horror, frozen for a moment before I lunged at her. "Are you insane?! That was the man Lucas and I respected most in the world!" "So what?" she spat, unafraid. "Not only am I getting this dead old man out of the crypt, I'm going to take everything that's yours and kick you out of this family for good!" The commotion brought Lucas running. Christiane expertly threw herself to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Lucas! I just thought Sophia's bracelet was beautiful and asked to see it, and she… she threw grandfather's urn at me! She said she was going to drive me out of the family…" SLAP! The sound of his hand connecting with my cheek was even louder this time. He looked at me with pure loathing. "Sophia, you are such a disappointment. After how much grandfather loved you… You were his choice to be the next lady of this house, and now you’ve desecrated his final resting place. You'll be dealt with according to family law." "It's not what happened! Lucas, let me explain!" But he wasn't listening. He had his men drag me down to the estate's old, stone cellar. They took a riding crop to my back, the leather biting into my skin with each sharp crack. When I was covered in bleeding welts, lying in the cold, filthy water that pooled on the floor, he ordered them to stop. The pain was excruciating. I screamed until my throat was raw, but no one showed me an ounce of pity. Through the open cellar door, I could see my relatives looking down, shaking their heads. "She destroyed the old man's ashes. She deserves this." When I was on the verge of passing out, Lucas finally had them pull me up. For a split second, I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, but it vanished the moment Christiane wrapped her arms around his, sobbing. "Oh, Sophia, I only wanted to look at your bracelet. How could you do that to grandfather? You've broken Lucas's heart!" I glared at her, too weak to speak. Hearing Christiane mention the bracelet again, blaming it for the desecration of his grandfather’s ashes, Lucas’s fury reignited. He gestured, and the estate guards and his bodyguards swarmed me, pinning me to the ground. I knew instantly what he was going to do. "No! Please, don't! Lucas, that was my grandmother's! It's the only thing I have left of her! It's the most precious thing I own! Punish me again, lock me back in the cellar, just please don't take my bracelet! I'm sorry, I was wrong!" I screamed and begged, but he was deaf to my pleas. He ignored my desperate struggles, knelt down, and ripped the emerald bracelet from my wrist himself. A sharp cry of pain tore from my lips. Lucas held the bracelet up, his eyes burning with hatred. "For this… for this worthless thing, you would dishonor the grandfather who adored you for so many years? Do you have a heart at all, Sophia?" "Today, I'm going to make you feel the same pain that I feel right now!" And with that, he hurled the bracelet against the stone floor. The emerald cracked into pieces. The combination of physical agony and soul-crushing heartbreak was too much. A final, desperate wail escaped my lips before I blacked out. 4 I woke up in the estate’s dog kennel. Everyone was convinced I was responsible for scattering Grandfather Kennedy's ashes, and they refused to have me under the main roof. Lucas, unable to argue with the family elders, had put me here. Through the kennel door, I could hear Lucas and Christiane talking. She was pouting, her voice a childish whine. "Lucas, darling, why did you have to break that bracelet? It was such a shame, I really liked it…" "Enough!" Lucas snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "Know your place, Christiane. A piece like that is far too valuable for someone like you to wear. I punished Sophia because she was wrong. Don't think for a second you can use this as an opportunity to take what's hers." He stormed off, leaving Christiane standing there alone, her face twisted with resentment. A sharp pain in my chest brought me back to reality. In my entire life, I had never been so humiliated. I forced my aching body to stand and stumbled toward the garage. I found my car, got in, and sped away from that place without a second thought. I never saw Christiane standing on the estate's front steps, a cold, triumphant smile on her face as she watched me leave. At the same time, a Lamborghini roared out of the estate, hot on my tail. Rain was pouring from the sky. Heartbroken and furious, I drove. Lucas’s Lamborghini quickly caught up. He rolled down his window, shouting at me to pull over, but I ignored him. I slammed my foot on the accelerator, desperate to escape him. Suddenly, a barrier and a "ROAD CLOSED" sign appeared in my headlights. I slammed my foot on the brake. Nothing. The brakes were gone. Someone had tampered with them. Panic seized me. I watched, helpless, as my sports car crashed through the barrier and plunged into a deep construction pit. My last memory was the violent jolt of the airbag deploying, and a universe of pain. When I regained consciousness, Lucas was by my bedside. His chin was covered in dark stubble, and his eyes were sunken and shadowed with exhaustion. When he saw me awake, a look of profound relief washed over his face. He took my hand, about to speak, but I beat him to it. "Who are you?" He froze, his eyes darting to the doctor standing nearby. The doctor explained that I was likely suffering from amnesia due to the severe impact. So… Lucas hesitated, looking back at me. I asked him again. "Are you my boyfriend?" This time, his expression changed. The concern was gone, replaced by something unreadable. He gently took Christiane’s hand, who had been standing silently in the corner, and spoke to me in the detached tone one might use with a stranger. "You're mistaken, young lady," he said. "I'm not your boyfriend. I'm her boyfriend." In that instant, a pain so sharp and visceral ripped through my chest that I thought I would suffocate. But I forced a smile, blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, and whispered, "Oh. I see. Do you think… do you think my boyfriend will come for me soon?" Lucas paused, a choked sound catching in his throat. "Yes," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "He will. I'm sure he will." Then he grabbed Christiane’s hand and practically fled the room. The moment they were gone, I could no longer hold it back. I clutched the fabric over my heart and wept, the sobs silent but wracking my entire body.
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