After they pulled me out of the surf, my fiancé, Milo Schneider, looked wrecked—eyes red, breathing all over the place.

On impulse, I decided to mess with him.

"I think I lost my memory. Where am I?"

I kept my face blank.

He froze for a second, then shoved his brother, Sean Schneider, toward me.

"Sean, take your fiancée to the hospital—now."

Yeah. That smile on my face? Gone.

Sean pulled me into his arms.

"Abigail, I'm your fiancé. Did you forget?"

After a bunch of tests, the doctor actually said my "amnesia" came from a childhood blood clot.

I curled my fingers, nails digging into my palm.

'Yeah, right.'

Milo's eyes lit up. He didn't even try to hide it.

So that's it—he wasn't worried at all.

The realization hit cold, like I'd dropped straight into ice water.

Sean, on the other hand, draped a blanket over me, careful, steady.

"Wait here. I'll take you home in a minute."

I looked at his sharp, sculpted features and nodded blankly.

Then I slipped after them.

Milo's voice floated up the stairwell, all fake sweet. "Sean, just help me out this once. I finally get to dump Abigail—that clingy headache. Just seeing her face annoys me, and I still have to act like I'm obsessed with her. You have no idea how miserable I've been."

Sean's voice was ice-cold. "You're the one engaged to her. If she gets her memory back, it's gonna blow up."

A pause. Then Milo again, practically pleading.

"You know I've liked Dorothy forever. But she's just the adopted daughter. I still have to marry Abigail. Now that she 'forgot,' just let me have a few good days with Dorothy. You're my brother—I trust you. Just... don't get too close to Abigail. I still have to marry her."

I sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled back to the chairs outside the exam room, shaking all over.

The guy who used to stick to me everywhere—car, bed, even the bathroom—muttering nonstop that he loved me just handed me off to his own brother.

That fake love? Yeah, I don't want it. Never did.

Since the one he actually wants is Dorothy...

Fine. I'll make it happen for them.

***

When Sean came back, he pulled me into his arms, gentle, like I might break.

In the car, he reached over and clicked my seatbelt in, careful.

At his place, even lying on his bed, I still felt off.

Black. White. Gray.

No photos. No decor. Even the pillows felt cold.

The whole place looked staged—like nobody actually lived there.

Not a single piece of women's clothing anywhere.

I clutched my damp, salt-stiff clothes, standing there, lost.

Sean didn't even blink.

"Go change into my pajamas."

He leaned in, brushed his lips against my forehead, then exhaled. "Good. No fever. Get some rest. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Every time I'd seen him before, he'd felt untouchable.

Cold. Off-limits.

No one went near him.

I'd even heard he once broke a woman's leg for drugging him.

And now?

That look in his eyes... soft enough to drown in.

The guy who kept every woman at a distance—was ignoring his brother's warning, holding me, and kissing me.

I watched Sean's back as he moved around the kitchen.

He must've felt it. He glanced over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Hang on. Almost done."

I bit my tongue, stopping myself from leaning into it. "I don't want you wearing yourself out."

His smile deepened, like he was actually in a good mood. "I'm your fiancé. Taking care of you's normal."

Sean had always been strict. Controlled. Zero tolerance for lies.

And now?

He was the first one lying to his own brother.

The next day was Milo's birthday.

I walked into the private room—balloons everywhere, streamers, and roses on the floor arranged in a heart.

Yeah. Subtle.

Milo's friends, who usually hovered around me, went dead quiet.

The door suddenly slammed open—

"Milo, I got the diamond rose you wanted! Don't mess this up—give Dorothy a real confession today!"

Silence.

No one said a word.

Heads dropped. Eyes darted between Milo and me, all fake-casual like I wouldn't notice.

So it wasn't a birthday party.

It was his big confession setup for Dorothy.

I hooked my arm through Sean's and let out a light laugh, slicing right through the silence.

"Why's everyone acting weird? Milo's whole future's riding on tonight."

Someone spoke up, awkward as hell.

"Abigail... you're not mad?"

Milo shot him a look that could kill.

I acted like I didn't see it, swallowing the ache as Sean lifted the glass to my lips and I took a sip.

"What would I even be mad about? I'm his future sister-in-law. Of course I care about his love life."

Milo went stiff, then forced a smile.

"You're right. I've liked Dorothy for years. Now I finally get to be with her."

The mood picked back up fast.

When Dorothy said yes, everyone cheered, throwing out jokes.

Without me—the annoying fiancée—he could finally kiss the girl he actually wanted.

At some point, my lashes were already damp. So I got up, heading for the restroom to fix my makeup.

From inside—soft, breathy sounds slipped out.

"Dorothy... I can finally have you for real."

My adopted sister's voice followed, all wounded.

"Milo, every time I see you with Abigail, it hurts. I'm just the adopted daughter. Though she was gone for years, you're still the one engaged to her."

Milo rushed to soothe her. "You're soft, you're sweet. Abigail's covered in scars—I can barely stand looking at her body. Who knows how many guys she's been with? Every time I'm in bed with her... I'm thinking about you."

Dorothy's voice dropped, small, almost whining.

"Even if she doesn't stay amnesiac... I'm fine with just a few days with you."

I let out a silent laugh.

The tears slipped down with it.

Back then, in bed, Milo used to trace the scars I got from being taken—slow, careful—swearing he'd protect me.

And now?

He was using those same scars to tear me down—just to make her feel better.

The sound of lips meeting, breath tangling, drifted out of the restroom again.

It wasn't loud, but it cut straight through me.

I turned to leave and ran right into a solid chest.

Sean.

He looked down at me, brows tight, then wiped the tears off my face, slow and careful.

"Babe... why are you crying?"

His eyes were all concern as he leaned in and kissed me.

The restroom door suddenly swung open.

Milo froze at the sight—my flushed face, locked in a kiss with his brother. His expression darkened fast.

"Sean, what are you doing?"

There was a warning in his voice.

All I felt was a joke.

He was the one who shoved me into someone else's arms—

and now he couldn't handle it.

What was I to him? Some toy he could pass around whenever he felt like it?

Sean let out a low laugh, his hand settling at my waist.

"My fiancée's in a bad mood. I'm taking care of her. You blind or what?"

Milo was about to speak, but Dorothy slipped out from behind him and hooked her arm through his.

"Abigail, I heard you lost your memory. I've been so worried. You and Sean are still SO lovey-dovey."

Yeah—dripping with sarcasm.

My breath hitched when I saw the marks on her neck.

When the party finally wrapped, Sean got an urgent call and had to head to the company. He told Milo to take me home.

But the second we got in the car, Dorothy grabbed her head.

"My blood sugar's dropping. Take me to the hospital."

I was gonna call a cab and leave, but they dragged me along anyway.

The doctor just told Dorothy to go home and rest, but she frowned, all delicate about it.

"Milo, what if I need a transfusion later? I heard rare blood types are hard to find."

The second she said that, Milo grabbed my wrist.

"You've got the same blood type. Give some so we can store it for her."

I just stared at him, stunned, and tried to pull away.

He frowned, already annoyed.

"Ever since you came back, you've been picking on Dorothy. What's wrong with donating some blood? Abigail Ashton, how can you be this cold?"

His grip tightened—no way out.

All I could do was stand there, pale, while he told the doctor to draw bag after bag of my blood.

Dorothy watched with a smug smile, red lips curved like she'd already won.

Milo kept going, like I was the problem. "Wouldn't it have been easier if you just listened? Why make a scene? Dorothy's your sister too. Stop being so petty. It's just blood—you're not gonna die."

Like he couldn't see it—my lips going white, my body swaying, about to drop.

Then—

a punch.

Milo hit the floor.

Sean stood there, face dark, eyes ice-cold.

"Milo. This is how you take care of my fiancée?"

He lifted me mid-sentence, set me down in a chair—gentle, like I might break. Then he grabbed Milo, already swelling up, and dragged him into the stairwell.

Dorothy snatched her bag. "It's late. I'm heading home." She rushed off.

I slipped into the stairwell too, unnoticed.

The air between the brothers? Razor sharp.

Milo muttered, "Abigail's my fiancée. I can make her do whatever I want. You're the weird one—don't tell me you've actually fallen for her."

He missed the storm building in Sean's eyes. Of course he did. And kept going.

"You've never even been with a girl. Abigail's boring—you wouldn't like her. I've already had my fill with her. Go find someone 'new'—"

Big mistake.

Sean's kick slammed into him, sending him straight into the wall.

Milo folded, clutching his chest, coughing.

Next second—his throat got locked in Sean's grip. He couldn't move.

"Milo. Have I been too easy on you? This how you talk about a girl? What does that make you?"

His grip tightened. "I've been covering for you. Cleaning up your mess. If you don't like it, go tell her the truth."

Milo's face went purple as he choked out, "I get it... I spoke without thinking. But you still need to stay away from her. It'll mess with your reputation. You don't have to be all over her just because of me."

Just like that—it was settled.

But something flashed in Sean's eyes.

Not normal.

***

After we got home, Sean made chicken soup.

He watched me finish it, then pulled me in and lay down with me.

The guy who said he wouldn't get close?

Yeah. He was holding me while we fell asleep.

Like his brother's warning meant nothing.

That night, I dreamed about the day Milo's enemies grabbed me.

He'd always been reckless, ticking people off like it was a hobby.

He said he'd pick me up for dinner. I waited an hour.

Instead, his enemies showed up.

They dragged me to some abandoned factory.

Their hands were everywhere. Their breath—disgusting—brushed my skin.

The one who saved me?

Sean.

As for Milo? He was busy accompanying Dorothy at some piano competition.

Back then, he told me, "She's your sister. I'm helping you keep the family close."

And I actually bought that.

I jolted awake, soaked in cold sweat, tears running down my face.

Sean wasn't even fully awake before he pulled me in. "Babe, don't be scared. I'm here."

I stared at his half-awake face, a little out of it.

Before, he wouldn't even look at me—like I was something dirty.

Now? This softness came way too easy.

'Or is he just trying to teach Milo a lesson?'