Julia Owen POV:

Ten minutes later, I'm in the passenger seat of Liam Hewitt's silver Bentley.

In the rearview mirror, Cayden and Vivian are pressed together in the back, whispering. They look like conjoined twins, fused by their shared deceit. Cayden keeps glancing at me, his expression a mixture of suspicion and relief. Vivian just smirks, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph on her face.

A scent of cedarwood and something cold, like winter air, washes over me as Liam leans across the console. I flinch, my body tensing, my breath catching in my throat.

His expression is unreadable. He says nothing, his movements economical and precise as he clicks my seatbelt into place. He settles back into his seat, his large hands resting on the steering wheel.

The engine purrs to life.

"Is this normal?" he asks, his voice low and laced with a strange hint of amusement. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. "Buckling up my fiancée? Have I done this before?"

I force down the knot of panic in my chest and turn to look out the window. "I don't remember."

His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing the back of mine. It's a light, fleeting touch, but it sends a jolt through me. "Don't worry," he says, his voice a soft promise. "You'll remember."

The words, meant to be comforting, seem to be a direct provocation to the man in the back seat.

Cayden's face darkens. He yanks his arm away from Vivian. "Liam," he warns, his voice tight. "The Hewitt family values propriety. Until the wedding is official, you don't touch Julia."

Liam lets out a soft, disdainful scoff. He doesn't even turn his head, but I feel the weight of his mockery. "This is between my fiancée and me," he says, emphasizing the word. "You're overstepping, cousin."

Vivian's triumphant expression falters. She leans forward, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Julia, do you really not remember anything?"

I meet her gaze in the mirror and give a small, helpless shake of my head.

The tension in her shoulders visibly relaxes. She becomes chatty, eagerly filling the silence with a carefully curated version of our shared history. She talks about our friendship, from the private academy where we met to the years she "took care of me" after my family fell from grace.

Every word is technically true, but now they feel like tiny, sharp daggers sliding into my heart.

"My parents always treated you better than they treated me," she says, her arm once again linked with Cayden's. There's a smile in her voice, but her eyes are hard. She glances quickly at Liam, then back at me. "I'm so glad you've finally found your happiness. I truly wish you all the best."

The words sound so genuine they make my eyes burn. I turn away, focusing on the blur of city lights outside the window.

A few minutes later, Cayden sits up straight. "Wait, this is the wrong way. Where are we going?" he stammers, pointing out the window. "Vivian's place is in the other direction."

Liam's eyes are fixed on the road, but I feel his gaze on me. One hand rests casually on the wheel.

"I'm taking my fiancée back to our home," he states, his voice calm and final.

I look at him then, truly look at him. The Don. In the blinding pain of betrayal, I'd almost forgotten. The man sitting beside me, my supposed protector, was far more dangerous than the two vipers in the back.

He was, perhaps, the one person in the world who would most want me to have amnesia.

---

Julia Owen POV:

Three years ago, the Hewitt Outfit's massive real estate project on the south bank of Riverhaven came to a grinding halt.

Over two thousand residents had been relocated, their homes demolished to make way for a gleaming new development. But one property, a single, ivy-covered manor, stood defiantly in a key location, holding up the entire enterprise.

That manor was mine.

It was the only thing my parents had left me. After their plane crashed into the ocean, their empire was carved up by treacherous allies and circling vultures. I was a child, passed between relatives who saw me as a meal ticket. By the time I turned eighteen and regained control of the estate, it was a crumbling ruin, home only to stray cats and the ghosts of a life I'd lost.

I spent months cleaning it, but it was uninhabitable. I left it for the strays, a quiet sanctuary I would visit to feel close to my parents.

Then the Hewitt Outfit came. Bulldozers were already parked outside when their men showed up with a contract, their voices cold as they talked about price.

My refusal to sell made Liam Hewitt and me mortal enemies.

His men came in waves. First polite, then threatening. They trespassed, vandalized, and tried to intimidate me.

I was with Cayden by then. He always seemed so helpless, so frustrated on my behalf. He claimed his hands were tied. The Family wouldn't accept our relationship. He wasn't a named partner in the Hewitt Corporation. Liam controlled everything. I knew Cayden resented his uncle, Gordon Hewitt, for sidelining him, so I believed him when he said he couldn't plead my case.

So I fought my own battles. I smashed the window of Liam's car. I threw paint on his men. I became a thorn in the side of the most powerful man in the city.

In the last six months, the attacks lessened. Cayden claimed his constant pleas had finally worked, that Liam had agreed to pause the project. He promised that once we were married, his family would have to respect our union and leave my property alone.

He said we had to wait a year. To build his career, he claimed. To prove himself.

Now I knew the truth. The delay wasn't about his career. It was about Vivian. He didn't want to let her go.

My chest aches. I remember how Vivian, after we graduated, had so eagerly invited me to move in with her. Her parents' two-bedroom apartment. I saw it as a home. I saw her as my only family.

Liam's cool voice cuts through the fog of my memories. "We're here."

The Bentley glides to a stop in front of a sprawling, modern villa. He gets out, walks around, and opens my door. He glances at the two in the back, his expression dismissive. "Julia isn't feeling well. You can get out and call a cab."

Cayden gives Liam a complicated, angry look before pulling a protesting Vivian from the car.

Liam turns back to me. As he reaches across to unbuckle my seatbelt, he doesn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he sweeps me up into his arms.

A small gasp escapes my lips. The sudden weightlessness makes me instinctively wrap my arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" Cayden spins around, his voice a raw shout. His shock and anger are even greater than mine. "Put her down!"

Liam merely adjusts his grip, his hand smoothing down the fabric of my dress. A slow, calm smile spreads across his face. "I'm just holding my girl."

He strides confidently up the stone steps toward the front door, carrying me as if I weigh nothing.

A sliver of unease, sharp and cold, pierces through the numbness in my heart.

He leans his head down, his lips brushing my ear as he speaks, his voice a low, private whisper just for me.

"Having fun playing amnesiac?"

---

Julia Owen POV:

My heart lurches. My arms almost go slack around his neck.

Liam's breath is warm against my ear, his voice laced with a dark amusement. "Want me to put you down now? You can go back and expose them."

I hesitate. A war rages inside me. What would exposing them achieve? A screaming match in the driveway? Public humiliation? The thought of their faces, the lies, the pity... No. Tearing them apart right now wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't quell the fire of betrayal burning in my chest.

As if reading my mind, Liam doesn't stop. He continues up the steps, ignoring Cayden's anxious shouts from behind. "Julia's still sick! Don't... don't do anything to her!"

The heavy villa door slams shut, cutting off the outside world.

Liam abruptly lets me go. I stumble, my legs like jelly, and barely manage to catch myself against the cool marble of the wall.

I realize tears are streaming down my face. I hastily wipe them away with the back of my hand.

I see his brow furrow. He looks away, his jaw tight, and loosens his tie as he walks deeper into the vast, silent house. I stand frozen by the door, unsure if I should run.

When he returns, he's changed into a simple grey t-shirt and dark pants. He's lounging on a massive white sofa, his long legs stretched out, the picture of casual command.

His gaze meets mine, and a slight, knowing smile plays on his lips. "Since you're still here, sit down. Let's talk business."

Business. The word hits me like a slap. I remember their conspiracy outside my hospital room. My face stiffens.

"I'm not discussing the demolition," I say, my voice cold. "No amount of money will ever change my mind."

Liam's smile vanishes. He shakes his head, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "We're not talking about the manor. Not for now." His expression becomes complex, unreadable. "Do you want revenge on Cayden?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. "He and your best friend have been sleeping together for three years."

He takes out his phone, plays a few seconds of a video, and tosses it onto the coffee table between us. "See for yourself."

I walk over, my limbs feeling numb, disconnected from my body. I was prepared for this. I heard them. But seeing it is different.

The videos are high-definition, clearly filmed from the building across the street from Vivian's apartment. They show Cayden arriving right after I leave for work in the morning. They show him kissing Vivian, a desperate, hungry kiss I'd never received. Their clothes are torn off as they move from the sofa to the bed, their bodies a tangle of limbs.

The man in the video is ravenous, animalistic. For three years, Cayden had been so restrained with me, a perfect gentleman. I can't believe this is the same person.

A wave of nausea rolls through me. My whole body starts to tremble.

Liam stands up, as if he can't bear to watch me break. "Are you ready to talk business now?"

I stare at him, shocked that he can be so calm, so transactional, after showing me proof that he backstabbed his own cousin.

Anger and despair surge through me, but then, a strange calm settles in. This is my new reality. "Other than the manor," I say, my voice flat, "I can't think of any other business we have."

I drag my feet toward the door, ready to walk out into the night with nowhere to go.

"Let's play along with their mistake," his voice says from behind me. "I need a wife."

I stop, stunned. It takes a moment for his words to register. A flicker of disgust cuts through my shock. "You want to take everything, don't you?" I accuse, spinning to face him. "Trick me into this marriage, then tear down my house."

He rubs his forehead, looking genuinely exasperated. "No demolition. If you agree, I swear on my family's name, I won't touch the manor."

He explains it then. He needs to give the family elders an answer. A wife. A suitable one. We'll have a wedding, a real one in the eyes of the world. What happens after, he says, is up to me.

His proposal is so sudden, so absurd, it catches me completely off guard. "Why me?" I ask.

"It's convenient," he says slowly, his eyes holding mine. "And you hate me. So I don't have to worry about you getting attached."

I have a feeling his tone, his expression, it's all a performance. This isn't the real reason.

As I hesitate, my phone buzzes. A message from Vivian.

Julia, are you okay? You left some things at my place. I'll bring them to you tomorrow.

My friend of ten years. So eager to get rid of me. The last of my strength gives way, and fresh tears fall.

I slowly type back a reply, my fingers trembling. Sorry, I don't remember. It's probably not important. Throw it away.

I look up at Liam, my composure restored, my heart a frozen block of ice.

"I agree," I say. "But I want a contract first."

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