For weeks, playing the amnesiac wife meant treating my own life like a script.
I watched my body go through the motions from a detached distance.
One slip of an expression, one word out of turn, and Wilder would figure it out.
But staring at the photographs of Magnus and Nova on my enemy’s desk, the distance vanished.
The betrayal stopped being a plot point to navigate.
It was real.
It burned.
And someone was going to pay for it.
The heavy oak door clicked open.
I froze, the photos still gripped in my hands.
The black-bound acquisition proposal lay open, its pages spread across the polished wood.
“Madam, I brought your tea and—”
The maid stopped.
The silver tray rattled as she took in the scene: the open drawers, the scattered documents, my fingers dug into the papers.
She took a step back, realizing she had just caught the lady of the house trespassing in the one room Wilder kept off-limits.
“I should call Sir…” she stammered, turning toward the hall.
I had seconds.
If Wilder knew I was digging through his files, the amnesia act died today.
Instead of scrambling to clean the desk, I let my knees give out.
I hit the carpet hard enough to bruise.
The photographs scattered around me.
I curled inward, digging my palms into my temples, and forced a choked, broken sound from the back of my throat.
“No, please…
it hurts,” I gasped, rocking on the floor.
“The memories…
make it stop.”
The tray clattered onto a side table.
“Madam!” She rushed back in, dropping to her knees beside me, the documents forgotten.
“What happened?”
I shortened my breaths, mimicking the ragged rhythm of a panic attack.
I grabbed her sleeve, letting the tears I had already shed for Magnus spill over.
“The pictures…
I looked at them and my head started tearing itself apart,” I managed to say.
“You can’t tell him.
You can’t.”
Her hands hovered over my shoulders.
“But Sir gave orders to report anything unusual…”
“He’ll think I’m losing my mind.” I let my voice crack.
“He’ll send me back to the hospital.
Lock me in that room again.
I just wanted to remember who I am.”
Professional duty warred with the pity in her eyes.
“I won’t tell him,” she whispered, helping me to my feet.
“Let me clean this up.
Sit down before your head gets worse.”
I gave a weak nod.
I had won the moment.
But as she stacked the acquisition papers and locked the drawer, a knot tightened in my gut.
There was no guarantee she wouldn’t run to Wilder the second her shift ended.
The clock was ticking.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket.
The screen lit up with a name.
Magnus.
I smoothed out my voice and answered.
“Hello,” I murmured, keeping my tone faint.
“Nyxia, thank goodness,” Magnus sighed, layering on the familiar warmth.
“How are you feeling?
Is that arrogant bastard treating you well?”
I dug my fingernails into my palm.
“I am fine.
What do you want?”
“I hate asking this while you’re recovering,” he began, sounding like a wounded martyr.
“But before the accident, you promised to transfer the funds for my company’s new project.
The investors are pulling out.
If I don’t get that money today, everything I’ve built collapses.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” I said.
“Of course you don’t, Nyxia, and that’s why I’m calling.” His tone shifted, turning smooth.
“Since you’re struggling with your memory, it’s dangerous for you to handle finances.
Transfer your main accounts to Nova.
She’s your sister.
She can manage your money until you recover.”
A second voice chimed in from the background.
“Exactly, sis!
I’ll take good care of everything.”
They had me on speakerphone.
A shuffling sound echoed through the receiver, Magnus covering the microphone, but not well enough.
“I can finally get that Birkin bag once the transfer hits,” Nova whispered.
“And I’ll get the Patek watch to celebrate,” Magnus muttered back.
“Keep quiet until she agrees.”
The microphone shuffled.
“Nyxia?
Are you still there?
They were carving up my life like a carcass, laughing while they did it, assuming amnesia made me deaf to their greed.
“I need to check my balance first,” I said, keeping my voice flat.
“I don’t know how much I have.”
“Just open your app.
Nova will guide you through the transfer.”
I pulled the phone away and tapped into my banking app.
The blue loading screen appeared.
I punched in my passcode.
Instead of an account balance, a red box flashed across the screen.
ACCESS DENIED.
ACCOUNT FROZEN.
I tapped the screen again.
A new prompt appeared.
Notice.
Financial transactions restricted.
Authorization from legal guardian required.
Guardian on file: Wilder Reed.
The acquisition proposal on the desk wasn’t a future plan.
He had already locked down my accounts.
But how?
I had never signed a power of attorney.
What strings had he pulled to cage my finances without my signature?
I couldn’t move a single cent, and I didn’t even know what trap he had used.
“Nyxia?” Magnus’s voice buzzed from the speaker.
“Have you opened it?
The bank closes soon.”
Magnus and Nova were circling me on one side, waiting to strip my wealth.
On the other, the man I hated most had already chained me to the floor.
Before I could stall Magnus, a sharp ring cut through the study.
I flinched.
It was the landline, sitting right next to the spot where Wilder’s acquisition proposal had been.
“Nyxia, what’s that noise?” Magnus demanded.
“Are you transferring the money or not?”
I ignored the cell phone.
I reached out, picked up the receiver of the landline, and pressed it to my ear.
“Hello,” I whispered.
In the background, I heard the low murmur of executives and the rustle of paper.
A boardroom meeting.
Then, Wilder’s voice came through the earpiece.
“Why did my security system just notify me of an access attempt on your frozen accounts?”
My lungs seized.
“And more importantly,” Wilder continued, his tone dropping a fraction lower, cutting straight through the boardroom noise, “who is currently on the other line of your mobile phone?”