Chapter 2

Audrey Wallace POV:

My breath caught in my throat. Little dove. That name. It was the name he'd called me when we were in love, before the accident. Before the amnesia. Before he became this cruel stranger.

I watched him, my heart a frantic bird in my chest. A sliver of hope, sharp and dangerous, pierced through my resolve. Was it finally happening? Was he remembering?

"No," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. I forced the lie out, crushing that tiny spark of hope. "You don't know me, Mr. Foster. Not like that. You never did."

The tension in Jake's shoulders visibly eased. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still clouded but losing that intense, searching look. He actually seemed relieved. Relief that I wasn't the woman he once loved. Relief that he hadn't been wrong about me all this time. The cruelty of it burned.

Jada, who had been watching us with a confused pout, seized the opportunity. "Jakey, what was that about? She's so weird. And my foot still hurts from her terrible massage! My followers will think I have ugly feet if I can't get a proper rub." She flounced onto the bed, demanding his attention. "And this room is nice, but it's not the best. I heard the 'Royal Suite' has a private infinity pool. Why aren't we in the Royal Suite?"

I felt a profound exhaustion settle over me, a bone-deep weariness that went beyond the throbbing in my wrist. My entire body ached.

Just then, the door swung open without a knock. Douglass and Evonne Hammond, Jake's parents, swept in like a cold front. Evonne, a woman whose diamonds sparkled almost as brightly as her disdain, immediately went to Jada.

"Darling! My sweet Jada-bear!" Evonne cooed, wrapping Jada in an embrace. "Are you comfortable? Is everything to your liking?"

Douglass, a stern man with eyes that always seemed to be calculating, gave Jake a curt nod before resting a heavy hand on Jada's shoulder. "My dear, you are the future of our family. This place, this retreat," he said the word with distaste, "is barely worthy of you."

My stomach clenched. I was invisible to them. Had been for five years.

"And speaking of futures," Evonne continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "Jakey, darling, we have a little something for Jada. It was meant for... well, never mind that. It's hers now."

She held up a velvet box. Inside, glittering against the black satin, was the Wallace family heirloom necklace. My grandmother's necklace. My dowry. The one they had promised me when I married Jake, before he lost his memory.

I stared at it, my mind reeling. That necklace was supposed to be mine. It was a symbol of my family's legacy, a piece of my history. Now, it was being gifted to Jada, the woman who had stolen my husband and my life.

"Look, Jada-bear, isn't it exquisite?" Evonne gushed. "A perfect fit for our family's true matriarch."

Douglass chimed in, his voice cold. "Audrey, you've disappointed us for too long. No heir. No presence in society. Just this... little business of yours. Jada, on the other hand, gives us hope for the Foster legacy." His words were like little ice picks, chipping away at what little dignity I had left.

This wasn't new either. For five years, their constant jibes about my "barren womb" and my "failure as a wife" had been a soundtrack to my gilded cage. Each holiday, each family gathering, a fresh barrage of thinly veiled insults. I had become their convenient punching bag, the scapegoat for Jake's indifference.

Evonne's phone rang. She answered, her face brightening. "Oh, my precious angels! You're awake!" She put the phone on speaker. "Are you missing Grandma? No? Oh, well, guess who's here? That nasty woman who hurt mommy's feelings!"

My blood ran cold as I heard the tiny, childish voices on the other end. "Auntie Audrey is bad! Auntie Audrey is ugly!"

"She is, isn't she?" Evonne purred into the phone. "What should we do to bad Auntie Audrey?"

A child's voice piped up, "Push her!"

Before I could react, Evonne's hand shot out, a surprising force behind it. She slapped me hard across the face. The sharp sting made my good wrist fly up to cover my cheek. I tasted blood.

I didn't fight back. Couldn't. Not anymore. I was leaving. Soon. Very soon. This was the last time.

Jake, who had been watching this unfold, suddenly stepped forward. "Mother, that's enough," he said, his voice clipped. He put a hand on Evonne's arm, pulling her back.

Evonne looked surprised, then indignant. "Jakey, she deserves it! She's a disgrace!"

But Jake shook his head. "Later. Not now." He gave me a look I couldn't decipher, then glanced at my swollen wrist, still clutched to my chest.

I took the opportunity. "If you'll excuse me, I have other guests to attend to," I said, my voice tight. I turned and practically ran from the suite, the humiliation burning my face.

As I made my way down the hallway, my phone buzzed again. Clara. Business partner just confirmed the transfer. You're officially free, Audrey. It's done.

A wave of relief, so potent it almost buckled my knees, washed over me. Done. I was finally done. Now, I just needed to get home, pick up the last few documents, and then... freedom. Real freedom.

I hurried towards the exit, my mind racing through the logistics of my escape. My father had arranged everything. A car, a private plane. A new life, far away from the Fosters.

But as I stepped out into the crisp morning air, two small figures darted out from behind a potted bush, blocking my path. Jake' s children. They were Jada' s children, but Jake claimed them as his own, a legacy for his parents.

"There she is!" the older boy, a mini-Jake with his cold eyes, shouted. "The bad lady!"

"Mommy said you made her cry!" the little girl chimed in, her face twisted into a childish scowl.

"Go home, kids," I said, trying to push past them. My wrist throbbed. I just needed to get out.

"No!" the boy yelled. He thrust a small, brightly colored water gun forward. "Mommy said to teach you a lesson!"

Before I could react, a stream of clear liquid shot from the toy. It hit my face, my neck, my chest. A searing pain erupted. It wasn't water.

I screamed. The children shrieked with laughter, then turned and ran, their small figures disappearing around the corner.

My skin was burning. I clawed at my clothes, trying to wipe away the liquid, but it felt like fire. My vision blurred, tears streaming down my face, mixing with the corrosive fluid. This was no ordinary liquid. This was acid. Strong, burning acid.

My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the pristine white pavement, the world spinning around me. The smell of burnt flesh filled my nostrils. They had used acid. They had used acid.