Chapter 5
I blinked slowly, my vision sharpening to the dull white ceiling above me. I tried to move, but my body felt heavy, sluggish. Something tugged at the side of my head. Bandages? “Reese?” I turned slightly—every muscle protesting—to see a familiar face leaning over me. “Alice,” I croaked. Her voice felt like a lifeline in the chaos. She looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. Her eyes were puffy, rimmed with red, and her lip trembled just seeing me awake. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered, grabbing my hand. “You scared the hell out of me. You’ve been unconscious and they had to stitch you fifty times.” Alice looked at the stitches on my forehead and winced. “That bitch. Tell me it was her—was it Katerina?” I nodded slowly. “She hit me. With a vase. I think I blacked out instantly.” Alice stood up, pacing. “That witch really did it. I swear to God, I’ll make sure she pays—” But as she spoke, something shifted inside me. Like a window opening. “I—” I paused, holding my head as it throbbed. “My memories… Alice… I think I remember.” Alice froze. “What do you mean?” Bits and pieces came rushing back—me in the shadows, watching Dylan with Katerina… following them because I couldn’t let go. The day at the cliff. Him pushing me away, so coldly. The look in his eyes. The echo of my scream. “I remember now,” I whispered. “Everything. How I used to follow him around. How pathetic I was. How I kept hoping he’d see me.” Alice’s expression shattered. “Reese…” The doctor arrived soon after, eyes wide in surprise. “Well… this is extraordinary. Her memory returning like this—it’s rare. A miracle, really. We’ve seen cases like this, but they’re not common.” Alice smiled with tears in her eyes. “Then that’s good, right? It means she’s back.” But I wasn’t the same. “I’m going to tell Dylan,” Alice said suddenly. “About what Katerina did. He needs to know.” “No,” I said firmly. “It’s pointless.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “I don’t care anymore,” I said, voice calm, cold. “Especially now that I remember everything.” Before Alice could argue, the door slammed open. Dylan. His stormy eyes were filled with fury. “You just can’t stop, can you?” I blinked. “What?” “Something happened to Katerina,” he growled. “She’s hurt and her hand is bleeding—and she said you started it.” “Are you kidding me?” Alice snapped, stepping in front of me. “It was Katerina who attacked Reese. She sent her to the hospital!” Dylan turned his glare to her. “Now you’re taking her side too? Great. You’ve really learned from her manipulation.” “Dylan, stop—” I tried. He cut me off. “You’ve always done this. Always twisting stories. Just like when you said Katerina pushed you before, or burned you. I stayed quiet back then because you were my sister’s friend, but I’m done. Don’t come near me again. And don’t even mention marriage—what a delusional joke. You? Fitting gowns just because you heard I’m gonna marry Katerina and you? Marry me? Never.” He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Not even letting me explain. Something cracked inside me then. I let out a scream. A guttural, raw scream. No more love. Only hatred remained. I would never let him near me again! Ever! This is the last time. Third Person POV The celebration was grand, just as expected of a family like Dylan’s. The restaurant was decked in black and gold, guests in elegant suits and dresses. Laughter echoed, champagne flowed, and at the center table, Dylan opened gifts from his friends and family, a cool smile resting on his lips. Until he opened the plain white box. No name. Inside, a neatly folded card with clean lettering. He opened it. And read: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Reese Gray and Vincent Valen. His rival with Reese? The man whose presence always set Dylan’s teeth on edge. A powerful, ruthless businessman with connections that rivaled Dylan’s own. For a moment, Dylan didn’t breathe. Then rage hit him like a wave. “She’s really getting into my nerves,” he muttered, crushing the card in his hand. “Now, she’s doing a fake marriage to what get my attention??” He pulled out his phone and immediately called her. But instead of picking up—she texted. “Congratulations too, on your wedding day. Don’t worry. You’re not the one I will marry. After all, I finally remember what happened on the mountain… on how you tried to kill me.”