Chapter 2The Amnesiac Heir’s Fiancée

I heard Damian was rushed to the hospital that morning, struck by a sudden, splitting headache at the office.

When I arrived at the door of the VIP suite, his assistant was waiting outside.

"Ms. Hopkins."

Nathaniel Reed, his executive assistant, stopped me before I could go in.

"Mr. Campbell," he said, his voice low, "he might be getting his memory back."

My fingers tightened on my purse. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

There were already people inside.

Besides Damian, there was another man and a woman. The man was one of Damian's few friends, Leo.

The woman was dressed in a simple, elegant dress. She had a clean, almost ethereal beauty.

She was speaking to Damian. "My name is Seraphina Rose."

"I'm back."

"Do you remember who I am?"

Her voice was soft, laced with a fragile, trembling hope.

Damian wasn't in the hospital bed. He was sitting in an armchair in the suite’s living area, looking as imposing as ever. Dressed in a sharp suit, his handsome face was cold and impassive, his legs crossed in a posture of casual authority. If not for the faint pallor of his skin, you wouldn't know anything was wrong.

He didn't answer her.

Instead, he spoke to his friend, his tone laced with ice. "Leo, stop bringing random women to see me."

He then motioned for his assistant to show them out.

As Leo led the woman away, he shot back, "Damian, you're going to regret saying that."

The woman's eyes reddened. She cast one last, lingering look at Damian before turning to leave. Her gaze was filled with a universe of emotions I couldn't begin to decipher.

Now it was just the two of us. As his fiancée, I played my part. "Does your head still hurt?"

"I'm fine," Damian said, his voice clipped.

"Nathan said… you might be remembering things?"

He pressed his fingers to his temple. "Just fragments. Flashes I can't hold onto. Someone crying in the snow, a lot of muffled voices…"

Damian uncrossed his legs. A moment later, he pulled me onto his lap.

We'd been engaged for nearly a year and a half since his accident. It wasn’t as if our relationship was purely platonic. We had the intimacy expected of a couple.

He spoke, his voice a low murmur against my ear. "That was just Leo playing a prank. Bringing in some girl and claiming she was someone I used to love."

Given Leo’s reputation as a troublemaker, it was an easy mistake for Damian to make.

He leaned in, his cool lips brushing the corner of my mouth. "Compared to her," he whispered, a hint of dark amusement in his tone, "your gentle beauty is far more my type."

He said it to reassure me, to dismiss the other woman. And it worked, because it was obvious his memory hadn't fully returned.

He had no idea who that girl, Seraphina Rose, really was. He didn't remember how important she had been to him.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the storm of fear inside me.

"Good," I whispered.