NORA

The waitress led me to a slightly secluded corner of the restaurant-far enough from the main floor to offer privacy, yet positioned perfectly for observation. I had a clear view of the entrance, which worked in my favor. I liked knowing who came in and who left.

I took my seat, deliberately facing the door.

I didn't know why, but an unsettling sensation crept over me, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. My gaze shifted subtly toward the private room to my right.

A one-way mirror.

I couldn't see inside, but whoever was there could see me clearly.

"Here's the menu, Ma'am," the waitress said, placing it neatly in front of me. "Once you've decided, you can press the button at the center of the table."

I followed where she pointed before nodding.

This was actually my first time dining out in the open area. I was always inside a private room before. There was a button there too-but it was built into the wall, not the table.

"No need," I said calmly. "I order fast. You can take my order now."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I scanned the menu.

My preferences were simple. Even inside Emily's body, they hadn't changed.

Seafood.

I loved seafood.

Without hesitation, I rattled off my order. The waitress wrote everything down efficiently before excusing herself.

Moments later, the dishes were placed in front of me one by one.

For a split second, I must have looked like a child staring at a pile of shrimp, practically salivating.

I slipped on the plastic gloves provided and began peeling them methodically. I haven't tasted anything yet. I preferred finishing the preparation first so I could eat without interruption.

Once I was done, I took my first bite.

"Mmm..."

A soft sound escaped me before I could stop it. I even closed my eyes. It was that good.

I took another bite, the corners of my lips lifting slightly in satisfaction.

I was enjoying myself-until I suddenly froze.

An uncomfortable itch spread across my body.

I immediately grabbed my glass of water and downed it in one go. When I set the glass back on the table, my eyes fell on my hands.

Red patches were forming.

My brows knitted together.

Damn. Is there something wrong with the food?

No.

This was my first time here as Emily Hills. Who would even think of poisoning me?

Then my chest tightened.

Breathing became difficult.

And then it hit me.

Fuck.

Emily is allergic to shrimp!

I shot up from my seat. I needed to get to a hospital, but my lungs refused to cooperate. Each breath felt shallow, forced.

My vision blurred.

My knees weakened.

I felt myself tipping forward.

The last thing I registered was the figure of a man rushing toward me-moving fast, decisively. Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor.

Then-

Nothing.

Everything went black.

****

"Shit!"

I gasped as I jolted upright, my heart pounding violently. I scanned my surroundings in alarm before realization set in.

A hospital room.

"You're awake," a male voice said.

I turned my head.

A man was sitting on a three-seater sofa across the room. I stiffened slightly but kept my reaction controlled. Still, my brows furrowed.

"Who are you?" I asked coolly.

He stood up, giving me a better look at him.

He was dressed casually-a red shirt, denim pants. A matching denim jacket was draped over the back of the sofa.

And something about him felt... familiar.

"I'm Devon," he said as he stepped closer to my hospital bed.

Just Devon.

No last name?

"I was heading back to my table when I noticed you were about to collapse. Good thing I caught you in time," he added casually.

I studied him for a brief moment before responding.

"Thank you."

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Judging by the slight shift in his expression, he understood immediately-I had no interest in knowing anything beyond that.

"The hospital contacted your parents," he continued. "They're probably on their way."

I nodded and adjusted the pillow behind my back so I could sit more comfortably.

He didn't offer to help.

Didn't even attempt to.

Did he already know I would refuse?

"Your face says it all," he said suddenly.

I frowned.

The "I don't need your help" look," he added, a hint of amusement in his voice.

That made me chuckle.

"At least you're perceptive."

"Hm," was all he replied.

"Anyway, thank you again," I said, dismissive but polite. "You can leave now. I can take care of myself. You probably have personal matters to attend to."

"I'll leave once your parents arrive."

So he was stubborn.

Before I could respond, the door opened.

But it wasn't Rod and Esmeralda who walked in.

My expression hardened instantly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked coldly.

Asher didn't even look at me. His eyes were locked on Devon.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated, this time louder-sharper.

Only then did Asher turn toward me, irritating me further when he reached out as if to touch me.

"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped. "You know you're allergic to shrimp, yet you still ate it?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You no longer have the right to be concerned about me, Mr. Bennett. Or have you forgotten that we're already separated?"

"I went to the civil registry and canceled our divorce," he declared. "There will be no separation."

For a second, my head felt like it was about to explode. I wanted to get out of bed and smash his face against the wall.

"So end whatever relationship you have with this man," he continued, pointing at Devon-who, infuriatingly enough, was smiling.

What the hell is wrong with him?

There was something about Devon that felt... strange. Unreadable. Unlike Asher, whose jealousy was practically written all over his face.

"You're delusional if you think I'll ever go back to you," I said, my voice firm and final.

He heard it. I knew he did.

"I've told you countless times-there is nothing going on between Corrine and me!" Asher shot back angrily. "When will you finally understand that?"

"Then go ahead and start something with her," I replied flatly. "I don't care. I just want to be separated from you. Don't force me to do something you'll regret, Mr. Bennett. I am no longer the Emily you once knew."

He froze.

Confusion. Shock. Disbelief.

They all crossed his face in rapid succession.

"Mr. Bennett," Devon cut in calmly.

I narrowed my eyes. I didn't like anyone interfering in matters that involved me.

"You heard what Emily said," Devon continued. "You can leave now."

"Tsk," Asher scoffed, turning to him. "You're waiting for nothing. I'm not divorcing Emily."

Devon didn't even blink.

"Do you think I care?" he said coolly. "As long as she's with me, that's all that matters."

This time-

I was the one caught off guard.

Who the hell is this man?

NORA

Asher didn't get the chance to say another word when Rod and Esmeralda suddenly arrived.

"What are you doing here?" Rod demanded the moment he saw him.

"Dad-" Asher began as he turned toward him.

But Rod's eyes turned razor-sharp.

"Don't call me that," the old man said coldly. "You are not my son."

I noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Asher's lips, the way his hand clenched as if he were holding himself back from responding.

"Why are you still here?" Esmeralda asked next. Her voice was calm, almost gentle, but the hostility beneath it was unmistakable. "Aren't you already divorced from our daughter?"

"I canceled the divorce application," Asher replied.

"What?" Rod and Esmeralda exclaimed at the same time.

Shock. Anger. Disgust.

All of it was written clearly on their faces.

"Emily is still my wife," Asher continued. "And I'm here to take her home."

"I'm not going back to your house," I cut in firmly. "We're done. I'm done with you."

"Asher," Esmeralda said, her voice now edged with restrained fury, "it would be best if you leave for now. If you have even the slightest awareness of the trouble you've caused, you'd know better than to stay. Rod and I will never allow you to take our daughter after what you did to her."

Asher was about to argue when the door suddenly opened.

Corrine walked in.

I was certain it was her-even if this was only the second time I'd seen her and no one had clearly introduced her to me before.

"Asher... you're here," she said softly, her voice laced with hesitation and false concern.

I had to give her credit.

She was very convincing.

"What are you doing here, Corrine?" Asher asked, clearly running out of patience. He glanced at me briefly, as if trying and failing to explain something without words.

"I heard what happened to Emily," Corrine replied. "So I came right away."

That made Asher turn fully toward her.

"I'm impressed by your radar," I said coolly. "How did you even know I was here?"

For a split second, Corrine didn't know where to look.

All eyes were on her-waiting.

And when it became obvious she couldn't come up with an excuse, she suddenly clutched her head.

"Ah... my head hurts," she groaned, squeezing her temples and shutting her eyes tightly.

I laughed.

So did Mr. and Mrs. Hills.

Devon, meanwhile, merely smirked-as if he already knew exactly what was happening.

"No answer, so you'll pretend you're sick instead?" I asked mockingly.

Rod and Esmeralda continued laughing while Devon silently shook his head, clearly entertained.

"Asher, you know I fell down the stairs too," Corrine insisted weakly. "This might be a side effect of-"

"Just stop," Asher snapped. His face darkened as he grabbed her arm. "Let's go. Since we're already in a hospital, I'll have you checked."

He guided Corrine toward the door. It was obvious he didn't want to leave, but he must have realized that staying any longer would lead nowhere.

Only when they disappeared from my sight did I finally breathe out in relief.

"And who might you be?" Rod asked, turning his attention to Devon.

"I apologize for the late introduction," Devon replied, scratching the back of his head with a faintly sheepish smile. "I'm Devon. I'm the one who brought Emily here."

Rod and Esmeralda both looked at me, silently asking for confirmation.

Since I genuinely had no idea what had happened before I blacked out-and Devon was clearly the one present, I simply nodded.

"Thank you very much," Rod said politely, though his caution was evident. "But we'll take care of our daughter now. We may already be inconveniencing you."

"I'm not inconvenienced by Emily," Devon replied. "But I'll be going anyway. It seems you still have things to discuss."

Before leaving, he turned to me. A faint smile curved his lips as he spoke.

"Nice meeting you. Next time, don't eat food you're not supposed to."

I nodded at him, keeping my expression neutral.

I didn't know him.

But I had a strong feeling he wasn't ordinary.

The way he spoke to Asher earlier, his calm provocation, his confidence-those weren't the actions of a random man who just happened to save me.

And I never ignored instincts like that.

Devon had already left, leaving me alone with Rod and Esmeralda. The curiosity on their faces was unmistakable-both of them were clearly dying to ask about the man-but they chose silence instead, something I was deeply grateful for.

"Why would you eat something you're not allowed to?" Esmeralda asked as she gently stroked my arm. Her eyes were already brimming with tears, as if something truly terrible had happened to me. Well, something bad did happen-an allergy could have killed me. But here I was, still alive, still breathing, still standing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was allergic to shrimp," I said softly. I didn't want her to worry. I couldn't bear the sight of the woman in front of me looking so distressed. Even if I wasn't truly Emily, I cherished the warmth of being treated like her daughter.

"This is your father's and my fault," Esmeralda said, her voice trembling. "We forgot to tell you, knowing fully well that you have amnesia. When you were younger, you absolutely loved shrimp. You could never get enough of it. That's why I understand why it was the first thing you reached for."

"Mom, you don't have to blame yourself-or Dad," I replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "What happened was on me. You were right, though. It felt like I was craving shrimp. But I want you to know that I'm actually happy, because now I know how delicious it really is."

Esmeralda could only smile and shake her head at that, clearly torn between relief and lingering worry. Rod, on the other hand, remained silent, having nothing more to add.

Not long after, I was discharged from the hospital. As usual, we went straight back to the Hills' residence.

But before we had even settled comfortably in the living room, one of the maids hurried over to us.

"Ma'am Emily, Sir Asher is outside."

Mr. and Mrs. Hills exchanged glances.

"Go upstairs to your room," Rod said firmly. "Your mother and I will handle talking to him."

"No need," I said calmly before turning to the maid. "We all know he won't stop anyway. Let him in."

The maid nodded and left. When she returned, Asher was already with her.

"Let's go home," he said without warning, making me let out a small, humorless chuckle. He didn't even bother greeting the Hills, despite clearly seeing them.

"I already told you-we're done," I replied. "Is that really so hard to understand?"

"And I already told you that you're coming home," he shot back. "We're still married, and-"

I didn't let him finish.

"Mr. Bennett, you know exactly what kind of marriage we have," I said evenly. "Like I said before, I don't remember anything about our past. But I do know how I feel now. I don't love you anymore. I'm letting you go, so feel free to openly claim your Corrine."

I made a conscious effort to keep my voice calm. As much as possible, I wanted our separation to end peacefully.

I had no idea what Emily truly felt deep inside-but I didn't care.

"Corrine and I are just friends," Asher insisted. "I never cheated on you. Yes, I took you for granted, but that's not enough reason for us to separate. If you don't want to come home, I'll give you time. I'll let you think this through. Just don't make me do something we'll both regret."

With that, he turned and left. He gave the Hills a brief nod on his way out, fully aware that they wouldn't acknowledge him.

I raised my hand to my temples and gently massaged them, the weight of everything finally settling in.

"Are you okay, my child?" Esmeralda asked, worry etched deeply into her face.

"You should go upstairs and rest," Rod added. "You need to recover so you can attend Mr. Taylor's seventieth birthday party. That will be your chance to build the connections you'll need now that you're the new CEO of Hills Pharma."

I nodded in agreement. I knew how important it was to surround myself with people who could be of help in the future, especially now.

For the moment, there was one person I was particularly eager to meet-a brilliant lawyer who could help me have my marriage to Asher legally annulled. I could only hope that someone like that would be among the guests invited to that party.

ASHER

"Sir, this is the complete medical record of Mrs. Bennett."

My assistant, Troy, carefully placed the thick folder on top of my desk. The sound it made as it hit the glass surface was heavy, solid, final-as if it were warning me that what lay inside was far more than mere paperwork. I picked it up immediately, opened it, and began scanning every page while Troy continued speaking in front of me, his tone straight, controlled, and professional as always.

"She sustained a mild concussion, Sir. As of now, it's confirmed that she's experiencing temporary memory loss. There's still no definite timeline for recovery, but based on the doctor's assessment, she won't remember anything that happened before her hospitalization."

I paused mid-sentence.

Something in my chest tightened.

"The last time she was hospitalized," Troy added, "was due to an allergic reaction. Apparently, everything she ordered that day consisted entirely of seafood."

I nodded slowly, pretending to absorb the information with ease. But in truth, the questions in my head were multiplying faster than the answers. I knew Emily-or at least, I thought I did. She knew she was allergic to seafood. She wouldn't be that careless. Not without reason. Not without thinking.

Something didn't add up.

"How did Emily even know about that place?" I asked suddenly, stopping my reading. "Has she been there before?"

Troy looked at me, clearly weighing his response before finally speaking.

"That restaurant, Sir, is known to be an exclusive establishment," he said. "It's frequented by the wealthy-people with influence, not just in business but also in politics, not to mention those in the underground. It's not a place anyone can simply walk into. Reservations are usually made weeks in advance."

A faint, humorless smile tugged at my lips-not out of amusement, but irritation.

"As for Mrs. Bennett," he continued, "I still don't have confirmed information on how many times she's been there... or if she's ever been there before at all."

I leaned back slightly, my mind racing. The place was famous, yes. I'd heard of it long ago. But even I, with my resources, connections, and money, had never casually set foot inside that restaurant.

So how did she manage to get in?

"And the man?" I asked, my voice turning cold. "The one who supposedly brought her to the hospital."

"I still haven't gathered solid information about him, Sir," Troy replied. "Aside from his name-Devon. But one thing is certain: he was at the restaurant at the time of the incident."

Devon.

I repeated the name over and over in my head, trying to attach a face to it, a history, a connection-anything. But there was nothing. Just emptiness. A blank space where information should have been.

I said nothing more.

The office fell into silence, broken only by the low hum of the air conditioner. I tried to piece everything together-the restaurant, the allergy, the memory loss, the man I didn't know. No matter how hard I tried, the picture refused to come into focus.

"What do you think?"

I lifted my gaze to Troy. There were moments when I asked for his opinion-when my thoughts became too tangled, when I was confronting things I didn't want to admit to myself. This was one of those moments.

He paused briefly before answering.

"I feel," he said carefully, "that Mrs. Bennett has changed."

My brow furrowed.

"I can't say exactly what it is," he went on, "but after following her movements... her behavior... it feels like I no longer recognize her. She's no longer the Emily we used to know."

Something sharp twisted inside me, but I chose to remain silent.

"As for Devon," he added, "there's really not much I can say since all we have is a name. Given that, he may be hiding something-or worse, planning something dangerous."

I nodded slowly, the weight in my chest growing heavier. I had the same gut feeling. For Emily. And for that man.

"Sir," Troy called again.

I looked at him, waiting.

"The changes in Mrs. Bennett," he said, choosing his words with extreme care, "may be caused by what happened... and by what didn't happen."

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though a part of me already knew the answer.

Troy took a deep breath.

"You've been neglecting Mrs. Bennett, Sir," Troy said bluntly. "And you're always siding with Miss Corrine-without a doubt. I'm sorry to say it, but it's possible that Mrs. Bennett no longer feels the same way about you as she once did."

Something inside me shattered.

I clenched my hands over the desk, feeling tension shoot through every finger. Troy bowed slightly, clearly aware he had hit a nerve. I tried to suppress the emotion bubbling inside me, but it was too late.

I couldn't accept that her feelings-Emily's feelings-could be lost or diminished so easily. Not like this. Not to me.

And yet, the hardest truth to admit... was that there was merit in what Troy had said.

For the first time, I realized that perhaps my greatest enemy in this whole situation wasn't Devon, or the people circling Emily-it was my own failures. My inability to notice, to act, to be present when it mattered most.

"Continue monitoring Emily," I ordered sharply, keeping my eyes glued to the folder in front of me. "I want to know everything she does. Every movement, every choice-no matter how small or insignificant it seems."

"Yes, Sir," Troy responded, posture straight and unwavering, clearly accustomed to carrying the weight of my commands.

"You may leave," I said, returning my full attention to the folder, forcing myself to absorb each line, though my mind kept spinning, twisting the words in front of me until they blurred.

He left quietly. The faint click of the door closing behind him amplified the silence in the office, making it almost suffocating. Only the low hum of the air conditioner and my controlled breathing filled the space-slow, deliberate, but tense to the point of aching.

I leaned back in my chair, still gripping the folder that contained Emily's medical records. Cold facts. Data that could never explain why the woman I had once been certain was mine seemed to be slipping further away, fragment by fragment.

Before I could sink fully into the spiral of my thoughts, the door opened-abruptly, without a knock, without warning.

Corrine.

My hand froze mid-page. I didn't even need to look to know who it was; her presence alone was enough to shift the atmosphere in the room. Too familiar. Too invasive.

"Hi, Ash," she greeted, a trace of a smile on her lips-an expression I had once ignored, but now hit differently. Uncomfortably. Wrongly.

I couldn't stop the irritation that rose within me. A raw, inexplicable kind of annoyance-not because of what she had done, but because she existed in that moment. Her timing felt wrong. Always wrong.

"Do you need something?" I asked coldly, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Just passing by," she said, moving closer to my desk. "I heard you were in your office, so I thought-"

"So you decided to barge in?" I cut her off, finally looking up at her.

She faltered for a moment, then quickly recovered. "I didn't think I'd be intruding."

I allowed a tight smile to form, devoid of any real humor.

"This is the worst possible timing," I said flatly. "If you have nothing important to say, I suggest you leave."

A flicker of something-annoyance, maybe surprise crossed her face, but she masked it quickly. She nodded slightly, yet before fully retreating, she spoke again.

"About Emily..." she began cautiously.

The moment she uttered my wife's name, a deeper surge of irritation washed over me.

"Stop," I said firmly. "This isn't a conversation you should involve yourself in."

She paused, eyes fixed on me, as though she had something more to say. In the end, though, she could only turn and walk out of the office.

When the door clicked shut behind her, I let out a long, deep sigh.

For the first time, I realized that no matter how tightly I tried to control everything, there were some things already slipping beyond my grasp.

And one of them... was Emily.