Chapter 1

The invitations were already sent, thick cream cardstock with elegant gold lettering. Ava Miller & Ethan Carter.

Our wedding day, just three weeks away. The historic Hudson Valley estate was booked, flowers chosen, my dress perfectly altered.

Five years, I'd loved Ethan. Five years building a life that was about to officially begin.

Then the call came.

A sailing accident.

Chloe Davis, Ethan's high school sweetheart, the one he'd dated for years before me, was found. Alive, but with severe amnesia.

She remembered nothing of the last ten years. Her mind was stuck at seventeen, still deeply in love with Ethan.

Ethan rushed to her side.

I understood. It was a shock, a tragedy.

But then he came back to our apartment, his handsome face drawn.

"Ava, we need to postpone the wedding."

My heart dropped. "Postpone? Ethan, why?"

"Chloe... she's fragile. The doctors said any shock could be... detrimental. She thinks we're still together."

I stared at him, trying to process it. "She thinks... you and she are still a couple?"

"Yes. And Ava, they said I can't tell her the truth. Not yet. It could break her."

A cold dread started to creep in. "So, what does that mean for us? For the wedding?"

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "It means, for now, we play along. For Chloe's sake."

"Play along how?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"She knows I have an older brother, Liam. The doctors... they suggested a story. That you're Liam's girlfriend. His serious girlfriend."

The room started to spin. "Liam's girlfriend? Ethan, are you serious?"

"It's just for a little while, Ava. Until she's stronger. Please. I need you to do this for me. For her." He took my hands, his eyes pleading.

He knew my weakness for family, my longing for stability after losing my parents so young. He knew I'd do almost anything for him.

"And... and us?"

"We're still us, babe. This changes nothing, not really. It's just... a pause."

A pause. Our wedding, our life, put on pause for a ghost from his past.

"She'll be staying at his parents' place. They think it's best. And you... you'll need to be convincing."

"Convincing?"

"She might want to meet you. Liam's girl."

Liam's girl. The words felt like ash in my mouth.

Chloe started calling me "sis" a week later, after a brief, excruciatingly awkward introduction where Ethan held her hand and I stood by Liam's side, trying to look like I belonged there.

"Future sister-in-law!" Chloe had chirped, her eyes bright and innocent, fixed on Ethan with an adoration that made my stomach churn.

The next month was a blur of quiet agony.

Ethan was a different person with Chloe. He recreated their old dates, took her to their old haunts. He was attentive, doting, the charming boyfriend I'd first fallen in love with, but it wasn't for me.

Chloe's Instagram became a shrine to their "rekindled" love. Pictures of them smiling, captioned with #TrueLove and #SecondChances, Ethan tagged in every one.

I tried to be patient. I told myself it was temporary. For Chloe's health.

I threw myself into my architecture work, designing thoughtful spaces, longing for the stability I was trying to build in brick and mortar because it was crumbling in my life.

Then, I found a lifeline. A leading neurological institute in Boston, specializing in cutting-edge amnesia treatment. I spent hours researching, my hope soaring. This could be it. Chloe could get better, and my life could get back on track.

I printed the brochures, my hands shaking with excitement.

"Ethan, look!" I found him in our living room, or what used to be our living room. It felt more like a waiting room now.

He glanced at the brochures, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Boston, huh? Looks promising."

"Promising? Ethan, it's incredible! They have amazing success rates!"

"Yeah, okay, Ava. I'll look into it." He tossed them on the coffee table, already turning back to his phone, probably texting Chloe.

My hope deflated a little, but I clung to it. He said he'd look into it.

A few days later, I needed a presentation file from Ethan's laptop. He'd left it at his office at Carter Holdings, the family's massive real estate empire.

I let myself into his sleek, impersonal office. As I searched for the file, I heard voices from the adjoining conference room. Ethan's voice, and his friend Marcus Vance's.

"...so the Boston clinic, you're not going to tell Chloe?" Marcus asked.

Ethan laughed, a low, confident sound that used to make my heart flutter. Now, it sent a chill down my spine.

"Liam sent me that info weeks ago, man. The do-gooder. Worried about precious Chloe."

Weeks ago? Liam had sent it?

"But no," Ethan continued, "I'm not rushing things. This is like a dream, man, getting a do-over with Chloe. Those were the golden days."

A do-over. My blood ran cold.

Marcus sounded skeptical. "And Ava? What about your wedding, dude?"

"Ava? She loves me. She'll wait. She's put up with this much, she's not going anywhere. She's got nowhere else to go, really. Once this 'dream' with Chloe runs its course, or she, you know, remembers, I'll go back to being Ava's perfect fiancé. She'll be grateful."

Grateful.

The brochures for the Boston clinic were still on his desk, untouched.

My world shattered. The floor beneath me, the city outside, everything tilted.

Five years. He thought I had nowhere else to go. He was using Chloe's amnesia, not to protect her, but to relive his past, confident I'd just... wait.

The cruelty of it, the deliberate deception, was a physical blow. My own naivety choked me.

My thoughtful designs, my loyalty, my love – it was all just a convenience for him.

I stumbled out of his office, numb, tears blurring my vision. I bumped into someone.

Liam Carter. Ethan's older brother.

He was always quieter, more reserved than Ethan. A historical preservationist, he ran a different, more intellectually driven arm of the family business. He looked at me, his usually stoic face etched with concern.

"Ava? Are you alright?"

The words just came out, a desperate, broken torrent. "I need to get married, Liam. To someone. Soon."

He was silent for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. The private art gallery of Carter Holdings, usually a place of quiet contemplation, felt charged with an unbearable tension.

Then, he spoke, his voice low and steady. "And what if I said I'd marry you, Ava? Not as a game. For real."

I stared at him, shock momentarily overriding the despair. Marry Liam?

A memory surfaced. Years ago, at a family dinner, I'd passionately recommended an obscure book of poetry to Ethan. He'd dismissed it, too busy charming everyone. Later, visiting Liam's surprisingly minimalist apartment to drop off some papers for Ethan, I'd seen it – that same book, a cherished, worn copy, on his otherwise sparse bookshelf. He'd never mentioned it.

It was a small thing, but it felt significant now.

"You've always been... kind," I managed, my voice trembling. "Why would you do this?"

Liam's gaze was direct, unwavering. "I've admired you for years, Ava. For your strength, your talent, your loyalty. I can't stand by and watch Ethan destroy you. He doesn't deserve you."

He paused, then added quietly, "I was the one who sent Ethan the information about the Boston clinic weeks ago. I hoped he'd do the right thing for Chloe, and for you."

Of course, he had. Liam was a man of integrity.

A wild, desperate plan formed in my mind, fueled by pain and a sudden, burning need for... not just escape, but closure. Revenge.

"Alright, Liam," I said, my voice surprisingly firm. "We get married. Genuinely. But I have conditions."

He nodded slowly. "What are they?"

"Ethan must be your Best Man."

Liam's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't interrupt.

"And," I took a deep breath, "since my father is gone, Ethan... Ethan must be the one to give me away at the altar."

Liam looked at me, a deep understanding in his eyes. He saw the symbolic revenge, the painful closure I was seeking.

After a moment, he said, "Agreed."

That evening, I packed a bag.

I sent Ethan a text: "Moving into Liam's brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. To make our roles more convincing for Chloe. Don't want her getting suspicious."

It was a stark contrast to Ethan's flashy Tribeca loft, Liam's place was elegant, filled with books and history, a quiet sanctuary.

Ethan called almost immediately, his voice a mix of annoyance and arrogance.

"Ava, what the hell? Moving in with Liam? Isn't that a bit much?"

"It's for Chloe, Ethan," I said, my voice cool, distant. "We need to be convincing, remember? She needs to believe I'm serious about your brother."

"Okay, okay, fine," he conceded, though I could hear the irritation. "But this is just for show, right? You're not actually... serious about him?"

"I'm playing my part, Ethan. Just like you asked."

I hung up before he could reply.

The charade had begun. But now, it was on my terms. And Ethan had no idea what was coming.

His texts started arriving later that night. "Just a little longer, babe. This is all for show. You know she's fragile."

And another: "Don't be mad. I know this is hard. I'll make it up to you."

I didn't reply. I was too busy looking at the lease agreement Liam had drawn up for us to sign, a pre-nuptial agreement that was anything but a charade.

My despair was still there, a cold knot in my stomach, but now it was mixed with something else. A dangerous, unfamiliar thrill.

The game was on.