The glowing screen of my laptop was the only thing keeping me going.

It was 3 AM. I was eighteen, flat broke, and completely wired from drinking way too much caffeine.

I was hunched over in the cramped front seat of my car, frantically running through video edits for my first actual paying client.

I just needed to push through this single project.

If I could lock in this specific payout, I could finally afford a deposit on a tiny studio apartment and get out of this miserable car.

My eyes were burning like someone had thrown sand into them. Just five minutes, I muttered to myself. Five minutes of sleep and then I’ll hit export.

I didn't wake up in my car.

I woke up to a beep-beep-beep sound.

My vision was blurry. I tried to sit up, but my head felt like it had been smashed.

"Mum, you're awake? I thought I had lost you."

I blinked hard, trying to force my eyes to focus. A boy was sitting right next to the mattress. He looked around ten years old, dressed in an expensive grey hoodie, staring down at me like I was a ghost.

"Who are you? Where am I? Where’s my car? Did I get robbed?"

Before he could even answer, the door swung open. A man walked inside wearing a black suit.

He was tall—at least six feet two—and he was gorgeous. Like, K-pop handsome. He possessed that effortless, brooding energy that made me think of Mingi from ATEEZ.

I sat there dazed, staring at the way his muscles shifted under the fabric of his suit. Damn.

"Elena," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. He sat down right next to my bed, looking like he had just witnessed a miracle.

"The doctors said the crash was horrific; they didn't know if you would ever wake up. Thank God you are awake. I didn't know how Jackson and I would have survived without you."

I flinched away, my back hitting the headboard as his hand reached out for me.

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

The man froze, his hand hanging in mid-air. The relief on his face shifted into pure confusion.

"What?"

"Is this a prank? Did you guys set this whole thing up? Where’s my laptop? I have work I need to finish right this second or I'm going to lose my contract."

"Elena, stop," he muttered. "It’s me, Julian. Your husband."

I scoffed, a loud, incredulous laugh bursting out of my chest. "Husband? Look, buddy, I’m eighteen.

I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend! Where on earth did a husband come from? Let me out of here."

Julian leaned in closer. I caught a whiff of his cologne—expensive, cedarwood, and suffocating. "Baby, you’re not eighteen. You’re twenty-nine."

My heart stopped. The rapid beep-beep-beep of the monitor spiked. "What did you just say?"

"You're twenty-nine," he repeated, pointing at the boy.

"And we have a son, Jackson, you named him after that idol Jackson Wang you used to be obsessed with. Remember?"

"No... no, no. This has to be a joke." I clutched my head, panicked gasps filling the room.

My fingers brushed against my hair. It was long, flowing, and smelled like a luxury salon. I pulled my hands down. My skin looked different—more mature. Sitting on my ring finger was a flawless diamond, held by a platinum band that probably cost more than my entire existence.

"Doctor, Get in here," Julian shouted.

A team in white coats rushed in, checking my pupils. Through the chaos, Julian never took his dark eyes off me. He watched me like I was a priceless artifact he had almost lost and had just fiercely claimed back.

The doctor started explaining details I couldn't process. Retrograde amnesia. A car accident. A coma that lasted six months. He said my brain had reset to my last clear memory.

"So you're telling me..." I mumbled, staring at the doctor. "That I just... missed eleven years? Of a life I don't even remember?"

"It's a trauma response, Mrs. Thorne," the doctor said.

I sat there, mind spinning. I was supposed to be eighteen. I was supposed to be in the trenches, fighting for my survival.

Now, I was a Mrs. Thorne, trapped inside a body that felt like a borrowed suit, married to a powerful stranger, and now a mother to a child.

Julian followed the team out. After a few minutes, he returned. "Elena, let's go home."

He scooped me up into his arms and carried me down to a private garage. There was a black Rolls Royce waiting.

He placed me in the back seat and buckled my belt, i wondered how the broke version of me had scored such an incredible man.

The car pulled through massive gates and arrived at a sprawling estate.

"Wow... do I actually live here?" I asked, looking through the glass at the gardens.

"Yes, baby," Julian said, a small smirk on his lips. "We have been living here for ten years."

"Wow. Not bad."

He took my hands and led me inside. The household staff stopped, bowed deeply, and called me madam. I stood in the center of the entrance, completely stunned.

I looked at Julian, then at the mansion, and let out a dramatic, exaggerated eye roll. If this was a dream, it was a very expensive one. But if this was reality? I had a lot of catching up to do.

"Julian, I’m exhausted. Where is my room?" I mumbled, dragging my feet.

"Honey, it’s our room," he muttered, pressing his palm against my lower back, guiding me toward the stairs,

To the end of the hall he stopped at a massive door.

I froze as he pushes the door open, the room was twenty times bigger than the car I had been living in, i had only seen this kind of luxury in movies.

I wandered into a walk-in closet that looked like a boutique, fill with Endless rows of designer's bags and shoes lined the walls. I always knew I had immaculate taste, but this layout was insane.

I turned back to the vanity table, walking over as i finally looked at my own face.

Damn, I was gorgeous, thin, and curvy in all the right places. I looked like a goddess, but inside, I felt like a stranger wearing a mask.

Julian stepped up behind me, placing his large hands on my shoulders leaning down, his cologne filling the air.

"This is the woman I fell in love with," he mumbled.

As his fingers moved toward my waist, I shoved him away.

To the current me this guy was just a gorgeous stranger.

I didn't know him, and I didn't know why his touch made me feel so unsafe.

Julian stumbled backward, he didn't look mad. he looked profoundly tired.

"Elena, I get it. You don’t feel secure right now," he muttered, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

"But i belive you will fall back in love with me just like you did the first time, I’m going to check on Jackson. Get some rest."

when the door click shut, I felt a massive wave of relief, then immediate loneliness.

I paced the room, tearing through the dresser drawers and nightstands.

I looked for anything—a note, an old photo, a scrap of paper—anything to explain who I had been for the last eleven years.

I felt like a prisoner in a museum, everything was perfect, but nothing belonged to me.

I found a jewelry box overflowing with diamonds, but not a single photo. I found rows of expensive perfumes, but no journals. Nothing.

My eyes caught a wall safe in the corner. I punched in my birthday, but the lock didn't budge. Exhaustion hit me, so I crawled into the king-size bed. Tomorrow, I told myself, I would find a way to crack this code.

The next morning, I headed straight downstairs. The moment Julian saw me enter the dining area, he started begging for my forgiveness.

Am sorry for touching your last night.

"It’s fine, Julian."

Geez, has this man has always been like this, I mean, it is kinda nice seeing someone truly care as much as apologising over little things.

Jackson sat across from me, staring. I had no idea what to say to my own son, so I kept my eyes down and focused on my food.

Once dinner was over, Julian brought over a photo album. It was packed with pictures of me at nineteen, pregnant with Jackson, and snapshots of me with friends Julian claimed were my bestfriends, in every picture, I looked happy. In most, Julian and I looked lovey-dovey.

My fingers trembled as I flipped through them. In one shot, Julian kissed my temple while I cradled a newborn Jackson. I looked radiant. I belonged in his world.

But the longer I stared at my smiling face, the more sick to my stomach I felt.

I had zero memory of being that girl. I couldn't remember the warmth in those eyes. It felt like I was reviewing scenes from a romance movie starring as an actress who happened to look exactly like me.

Julian sat on the edge of the couch, tracking my expressions.

"Is this really me?" I asked, pointing to a photo of us on a yacht, a giant diamond ring sparkling on my finger.

"It’s you, Elena. Every bit of it."

​I slammed the album shut. It was too much. The whole thing felt like a beautiful, engineered lie.

​As I headed upstairs, I caught Julian’s reflection in the hallway mirror.

​His warm, doting smile had vanished, he stood alone, staring down at the closed book with a chilling expression, he looked like he was plotting something.

I woke up feeling like a human again.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, as i pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft sweater from the closet.

Downstairs, the house smelled like maple syrup and coffee. Breakfast was spread across the table. Julian sat there, scrolling through his phone.

"Good morning, Elena. You look better today," he said, standing to press a kiss against my cheek. I flinched, but I masked it by pulling out a chair.

"I have an emergency meeting," Julian said, checking his watch. "I won’t be back until late. Why don’t you and Jackson spend the day together? You’ve missed a lot of his life."

"That sounds like a plan," I muttered, cutting into my pancakes. I didn’t want to be left alone with him anyway.

After Julian left, I found Jackson sitting on the back porch, staring at the lawn. He looked tiny in his oversized hoodie.

"Hey, Jackson. Want to go to the amusement park?"

His eyes lit up. "Really? You’re not too tired?"

"I’m perfectly fine. Let’s go."

We spent the afternoon surrounded by the smell of popcorn and the roar of rollercoasters. It was the most normal I had felt since waking up. We sat on a bench with cotton candy, and I started digging.

"So, Jackson, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color?"

"Blue. Like the ocean," he answered. "And Dad’s is black. He says it’s the color of power, but I think he just likes looking serious."

I laughed, picturing my billionaire husband in his black suits.

"What about food? What do we eat when I’m not in a hospital bed?"

"I like pizza. But you and Dad always eat this fancy steak and asparagus stuff," he said, making a face.

Jackson’s mood shifted.

"What's wrong honey."

"Mum, there’s this boy at school, Luke. He’s been bullying me since you went into the coma. He tells everyone my mum is a vegetable and I don't have anyone to protect me because Dad is too busy."

My blood boiled. My inner eighteen-year-old wanted to find this Luke kid and deal with him.

"Did you tell your teacher?"

"I did," Jackson said, looking at his shoes, "she said Luke was just playing. She said I was being too sensitive."

I gripped his shoulder, locking eyes with him.

"Don’t worry about him anymore. It’s over, on monday Morning, I am marching into that school, and I am going to report that boy myself."

Jackson stared at me. "Really?"

"Yes. And if he tries to hit you before I get there, you hit him right back. You protect yourself."

Jackson blinked in surprise.

"But Dad always tells me to ignore it and be the bigger person."

"Well, Dad isn't here, and I am your mum and i call the shot.

"See sweetie sometimes, not being the bigger person means showing people they can’t walk all over you."

We spent the rest of the day hitting the Ferris wheel and crashing bumper cars.

I learned his birthday was in July, that he was brilliant at math, and that Julian had been a decent husband, even if his work took over his life.

By the time we walked back to the Rolls Royce, Jackson was leaning his head against my arm.

"I’m so glad you are back, Mum. The house was too quiet," he mumbled.

I squeezed his hand. I didn't know who the twenty nine-year-old Elena Thorne was, but looking at Jackson, I knew one thing, i was going to be the nurturing mother he needed.

As the car pulled into the estate, I noticed Julian’s vehicle.

He stood by the entrance, checking his watch. The second he saw us, his grin widened.

This was the man who claimed to love me, yet my son felt unprotected. I took a breath, gripped Jackson's hand, and pushed the door open.

I was ready to play the part of Mrs. Thorne until I could figure out the truth.

"Hey baby, you're back. I hope you had fun," Julian said, leaning down to kiss my cheek again.

"We had a blast, Dad," Jackson chimed in.

"That's great. Go inside and take your bath, buddy. Dad needs to talk to Mum alone."

"Okay, Dad," Jackson said, running inside.

Once he was gone, Julian’s expression turned serious. He took my arm and led me straight into his home office, shutting the door.

"Elena, I know you don't remember, but you are actually the ceo, of the Thorne Group, am just the vice president."

I stared at him, stunned. "I don't understand... I thought you were the billionaire tycoon here."

"No, Elena. You own the Thorne Group, there are some secrets I can't tell you yet because of your health, but you need to understand the danger we are in, always remember that I love you."

"Okay... so why did you call me into this office right now?"

Julian leaned across his desk, his eyes burning with anxiety. "Elena, the board of directors... they think you are dead.

They believe I am hiding the truth, just to steal your shares.

I need you to come back to corporate headquarters with me on Monday. You need to officially resume your office and show them who owns this company."