“Nora, are you really leaving Lucas?”

In the hushed, wood-paneled study, Nora perched on the edge of a deep wingback chair, her fingers knotted tightly in her lap. She was silent for a long moment before giving a single, slow nod.

“Yes, Uncle. Lucas and I are finished.”

Her uncle released a weary sigh, but before he could speak, a cold, sharp voice cut through the room.

“Finished? The second I announce a wedding date with Kathleen, you run to my father to make a scene? Nora, aren’t you tired of these games?”

Before she could turn, Lucas was already striding into the room, his long legs eating up the distance with purpose.

His father, voice thick with regret, tried to intervene. “Lucas, Nora says she wishes to—”

“What does she wish for? To play the victim? Or to throw another tantrum?”

Lucas’s gaze pinned her, cold and disdainful.

“Kathleen wants you to personally oversee our wedding arrangements. Don’t mess it up.”

Nora clenched the fabric of her sleeves, fighting to keep her eyes dry. “Lucas, I don’t owe you a thing.”

“You don’t. But your mother did.”

A document landed in her lap.

She unfolded the yellowed pages and recognized it at once—her mother’s employment contract with the Lucas family, signed so many years ago.

A fifteen-year term. Her mother would be bound to the family as a live-in housekeeper. In return, the Lucases would provide Nora with the finest education and cover all living expenses for them both.

The service would end automatically upon expiry. Breach of contract carried a penalty so astronomical, she could never hope to repay it.

According to the dates, fifteen days remained.

“You’ll pay your mother’s debt.”

Lucas left those four light, dismissive words hanging in the air and turned to go.

His father, furious, slammed his teacown down. “Lucas! Do you have any idea what you’re asking? Forcing Nora to handle your wedding—it’s too cruel! You will regret this!”

Pausing at the doorway, Lucas let out a cold, quiet laugh. “Regret? I wouldn’t regret it even if she died.”

Then he was gone.

Watching that merciless figure retreat, the tears Nora had held back finally broke free, tracing hot paths down her cheeks.

He wouldn’t regret it even if she died?

Of course not. How could someone who’d lost all memory feel regret?

For over three hundred days and nights in this private hell, hadn’t she been the only one fighting a hopeless battle, suffering alone?

And yet, she could point to a lifetime of moments that proved his love had once been real.

At fourteen, when her drunken father set their home ablaze after a gambling loss, it was Lucas who rushed into the flames to pull her and her mother to safety.

At eighteen, when her mother passed without warning, it was Lucas who patiently guided her through the agony, becoming her only anchor.

At twenty, when the Lucas elders objected to their relationship over the gulf in their status, it was Lucas who knelt for three days, endured a brutal flogging, and silenced every critic. Even with his back torn and bleeding, he never let go of her hand. “So what if she’s a housekeeper’s daughter? She’s my choice. From now on, I am her shield.”

On the day he proposed at twenty-four, hearing her say “I do,” Lucas had wept like a child.

Even their first time, he had lost all control.

Nora had truly believed she was the Cinderella of her own fairy tale.

Until, a year ago, a car accident stole Lucas’s memories.

Lucas had crashed, lost too much blood. Without hesitation, Nora gave her own, nearly fainting from the donation.

The moment she heard he was awake, she rushed to his side, clutching his hand, her tears falling freely.

“Lucas, you’re awake! You scared me to death. I thought you were going to…”

Before she could finish, his hand suddenly pulled away.

“Who are you?”

His lips were dry, his gaze utterly and chillingly unfamiliar.

Nora froze, struck dumb.

He didn’t recognize her.

She refused to believe it.

She grabbed his hand again, her eyes desperate. “Lucas, it’s me. Nora… your fiancée, Nora.”

But he pulled away once more. This time, that unfamiliar stare held a hint of offended distaste.

“Don’t touch me. *This* is my fiancée. Kathleen.”

Lucas took another woman’s hand, their fingers lacing tightly. The look he gave Nora was pure disdain.

In that instant, she felt shattered—as if lightning had cleaved her in two.

Lucas had forgotten her. He’d even replaced her.

She explained patiently, presented every piece of evidence that proved their history.

He didn’t believe her. His unfamiliarity was terrifying.

She questioned, she sobbed, she pleaded… but the one person who held the answers remembered nothing.

The doctor called it a traumatic brain injury. Confusion, memory loss—even full amnesia—were expected. He needed rest, absolutely no stress or emotional shocks.

Recovery was in fate’s hands.

Even now, remembering that day seared a white-hot pain through her core.

Dragging her exhausted body from the study, she made her way back to her room.

Passing through the corridor, an intimate scene from the living room below caught her eye.

On the sofa, Lucas cradled the back of Kathleen’s head, kissing her with deep, consuming passion.

Their lips parted only after a long moment. Kathleen nestled into his arms, breathing heavily.

“Lucas… after how Nora chased you before… do you really think she’ll agree to plan our wedding?”

His lips curved into a cold smile. “Of course. Even a dog knows to obey its master. She has no right to refuse.”

A sharp pain flared in her stomach again. Nora pressed a hand to her abdomen.

True. She could never repay the penalty. She had no right to refuse.

In this relationship, never favored from the start, she was destined to be the most undignified one.

An undignified beginning. An undignified end.

But none of it mattered anymore.

Looking at the warm blood in her palm, Nora’s lips curved into a bleak, bitter smile.

Lucas didn’t know.

In fifteen days, he would take a wife.

And she would meet her end.

The next morning, wedding preparations officially began.

Kathleen summoned Kelly to The Elmwood Estate first thing.

Upon arrival, Kelly froze, stunned by the sight before her.

White wooden fences. An emerald lawn. A two-story house framed by lush climbing roses and hydrangeas blooming along the garden path…

It mirrored the home she had always dreamed of—down to the last detail of furniture and decor.

Unbidden tears welled in her eyes.

*“Kelly, anything you love, I’ll make it real for you.”*

His promise echoed in her memory. And now, here it all was, laid out before her.

The scene was perfect, yet utterly wrong. Ralph didn’t belong to her. None of this did.

Kelly couldn’t understand why he would decorate his marital home with Kathleen to look exactly like her own dream.

As her thoughts churned, Kathleen’s voice sliced through the silence.

“This is Ralph’s and my home. Isn’t it perfect?”

Stepping in front of Kelly, Kathleen wore a triumphant smile.

“Don’t get ideas above your station. Ralph and I are getting married. Bury those dirty little thoughts of yours—he’ll only ever be mine.”

Once, Kelly would have fired back at an insult like that.

Today, she schooled her expression and stayed silent.

Noting her quiet, Kathleen continued. “Let me outline the wedding requirements. Ralph insists on handwriting the invitations himself. The main floral arrangements must be white jasmine. The bridal bouquet must be freesia. And most importantly, the ceremony must be at dusk. All Ralph’s requests. He—”

“Wait.” Kelly cut her off, a jolt running through her. “You said these are *Ralph’s* requests?”

*Slap.*

Kathleen’s hand shot out, striking Kelly’s cheek, her eyes sharp. “‘Ralph’? Since when are you on a first-name basis with him?”

Kelly didn’t retaliate. Instead, she grabbed Kathleen’s shoulders urgently, her gaze intense. “I’m asking you—is it true?”

Shaking her off with disgust, Kathleen frowned. “Why should I answer you? Ralph is pouring his heart into *our* wedding. None of your tricks will work, Kelly.”

The answer was obvious.

Something shattered inside Kelly’s mind.

“It’s Ralph’s requests. It has to be… Where is he? Find Ralph… I need to find Ralph…”

Muttering to herself, she turned to leave.

But Kathleen suddenly let out a pained cry and collapsed heavily to the ground.

“Kelly! What are you doing?”

Ralph, having just stepped outside, witnessed the scene. He strode over and shoved Kelly aside.

Her head struck the railing. Ignoring the pain, she scrambled up and clutched his arm.

“White jasmine. Freesia. The wedding at dusk, because if it’s any earlier, my sleepyhead might not wake up in time…”

Tears streamed down Kelly’s face, her voice trembling.

“Ralph, it’s me. Your Kelly… Your fiancée.”

Their eyes met. Time seemed to freeze—a flicker of uncertainty, confusion, passed over Ralph’s face.

Then Kathleen tugged weakly at his shirt, her voice choked. “Ralph, don’t blame Miss Kelly. She… she just likes you too much.”

Instantly, his expression hardened into ice. He shook off Kelly’s hand with revulsion.

“Likes me? She’s not worthy. With the blood of a servant and a deadbeat in your veins, what else could you be but trash?”

With that, he turned, swept Kathleen into his arms, and carried her inside.

The cold, cutting words carved into Kelly’s heart, shocking her back to reality.

This wasn’t her Ralph. In the end… she had been fooling herself again.

She had tried before to jog his memory.

Once, driven to desperation, she had even stripped and climbed into his bed, hoping intimacy might trigger something.

That night, he had pinned her down, lost in a frenzy. But afterwards, he looked at her with cold disgust and spat, “Kelly, even a whore has more self-respect than you.”

The look in his eyes then was the same as now: contempt, disgust, utter coldness.

Kelly slumped to the ground.

Soon, muffled, intimate sounds drifted from the room.

“Ralph… it’s broad daylight… and Miss Kelly is right outside…”

“I want her to know. Only you, Kathleen, will ever be my woman.”

Their flirtatious banter followed, clear as day.

Whether from exhaustion or haunting memories, Kelly’s consciousness grew fuzzy. She remembered their first night.

She had just accepted his proposal. He’d kissed her in the elevator.

Their first time, he hadn’t even made it to the bedroom.

She’d teased him about his true, lustful nature showing. He had cupped her face, utterly serious, and said, “Kelly, I only want you. And I… I can only lose control like this with you.”

And now…

Kelly shook her head, refusing to dwell on it further.

She pushed herself up weakly, intending to leave, when the door flew open again. Ralph, shirtless, emerged and threw a wad of cash at her feet.

“Kathleen isn’t ready for kids. We’re out of condoms. Go buy twenty packs. Any less might not be enough.”

The door slammed shut before she could respond.

Staring at the scattered bills, Kelly’s face went pale.

She had no choice. She bought twenty packs of condoms.

Kathleen barely glanced at them before tossing them aside.

“These aren’t the ultra-thin kind. They ruin the sensation… Ralph, I’m afraid we’ll have to trouble Miss Kelly to go again.”

“They *are* ultra-thin, but… these are the standard size. Ralph is a big guy; he needs the larger size.”

“The size and type are right now, but I don’t like the scent.”

After several trips, Kelly finally procured condoms that met Kathleen’s approval.

Inside, the rhythmic creaking of the bedframe mixed with increasingly loud, passionate moans…

Kelly stood outside the door like a fool.

She understood. Her inability to forget Ralph was her greatest sin.

And in fifteen days, that sin was all she would take to her grave.

The sounds of their intimacy echoed in her ears, a relentless reminder she could not bear. Kelly turned and fled downstairs, hailing the first cab she saw.

Outside the window, trees blurred past as tears fell without end.

She had thought herself numb. But her heart still knew how to ache.

A sharp spasm twisted her stomach. Fumbling in her bag, she shook out two painkillers and swallowed them dry.

On the seat beside her, her phone buzzed incessantly.

She picked it up. Kathleen was flooding their old class chat with red envelopes.

*“What’s the occasion? What’s got our Miss Kathleen in such a generous mood?”*

Kathleen didn’t reply with words. Instead, she posted a picture—a digital wedding invitation.

The long-dead group erupted.

*[Bride: Kathleen. Groom: Ralph. Wow, our Miss Kathleen is getting married! Congrats!]*

*[A perfect match in status and looks! The ultimate power couple!]*

*[Wait, hold on. Wasn’t Ralph’s sweetheart Kelly? They had all those rumors in high school. I swear I saw them together just last year.]*

That comment poured fuel on the fire.

*[Get your eyes checked. Kelly’s the help’s daughter. How could she be Ralph’s sweetheart? Maybe she was just carrying his bags.]*

*[Alright, let me start the toast. Wishing Miss Kathleen and our brilliant Ralph a lifetime of love!]*

*[A harmonious union for a hundred years, and a son soon!]*

*[A match made in heaven.]*

The blessings flooded on and on.

Her hands trembling, it took Kelly a long moment to finally type a line.

*[Congratulations. May your long journey ahead be filled with daily joy and deep affection, growing old together in love.]*

After sending it, she left the group immediately.

The organ donation agreement reappeared in her inbox. This time, Kelly read every line carefully before clicking to confirm.

Just as she closed her eyes—

A deafening **CRASH**.

The cab was violently rear-ended.

The impact threw her forward; her head slammed against the windshield with a sickening thud. Blood streamed down her forehead.

Before she could process it, the door was wrenched open. A large hand grabbed her and hauled her out onto the street.

“Kelly. Tired of living? Is everything I say just noise to you?”

Before she found her footing, Ralph snatched the phone from her hand.

Seeing the organ donation agreement on the screen, his face darkened. He hurled her phone to the ground, shattering it.

“First you leave the group, now this donation bullshit. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

His voice was ice, his gaze sharp with anger and disgust.

“Do you have any idea what your little exit did to Kathleen? How it makes her look?”

“You have a problem, you take it up with me. I won’t have anyone slandering Kathleen. Apologize. You will apologize to her, right now!!!”

Kelly pressed a hand to her throbbing head, still reeling. Before she could recover, Kathleen rushed over and grabbed her arm.

“Miss Kelly, I’m so sorry. I just… I love Ralph so much. Please, don’t try to take him from me. I’ll give you anything else…”

Ralph’s heart clearly broke at the sight. He pulled Kathleen protectively into his arms. “Silly girl. You’ve done nothing wrong. Why are you apologizing to her?”

The commotion quickly drew a crowd. Murmurs swelled into a roar.

“Homewrecker! She deserves to rot!”

The shout was followed by action. Rotten vegetables, eggs, a cup of scalding coffee—all hurled at Kelly.

As chaos descended, a woman in a baseball cap darted from the crowd and flung a container of foul-smelling liquid straight at her.

In a flash, Kathleen shoved Kelly aside. The corrosive liquid splashed across Kathleen’s arm instead, its acrid stench cutting the air.

Kelly was thrown back against the car. The world spun, then went black.

She didn’t know how much time passed. Eventually, a cacophony of voices pierced the fog in her mind.

“Mr. Ralph, Miss Kathleen’s arm has severe chemical burns. She needs a skin graft immediately.”

Drifting in and out, Kelly saw Ralph’s gaze shift. It landed on her, broken on a gurney nearby.

“Take the skin from her. Save Kathleen first.”

“But… this young lady is seriously injured. Harvesting a graft now could be life-threatening.”

Ralph’s dark eyes were fathomless, cold. “She made her bed. If she dies, consider it atonement for what she did to Kathleen.”

His words brooked no argument—each one a hammer blow.

Kelly felt her heart hollow out, the pain so profound it became a numb, weightless void.

A tear traced from the corner of her eye into her hairline. There, in that space between life and death, she saw him again—the Ralph who had once charged into a burning building without a second thought to save her.

She’d been choking on smoke, breath nearly gone. He’d refused to give up, performing CPR for a full thirty minutes until her heart beat again.

And now, the man who saw her as worthless, who would trade her life without hesitation… was also him.