Chapter 3

I took a step towards the bed, my eyes fixed on the music box in Bernard's hand. That small wooden box held the last tangible piece of my father's memory.

As I got closer, a pillow flew through the air and hit me squarely in the face.

"Get her out of here!" Evelin shrieked, her face contorted with jealousy and rage. "I don't want to see her! Bernard, you brought another woman into my bedroom!"

"Baby, calm down," Bernard said, his voice a soothing murmur meant only for her. "She's just a therapist. I called her for you."

"I don't want her! I want her gone! Get out! Get out!" Evelin screamed, pointing a trembling finger at me. She was like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

Bernard shot me a look of pure ice. "You heard her," he said to me, his voice flat. He then turned to the two hulking bodyguards standing by the door. "Get her out of my house."

I didn't even have time to react before the guards grabbed my arms. They were rough, their fingers digging into my skin as they dragged me from the room, down the grand staircase, and out the front door.

They shoved me onto the gravel driveway and slammed the door shut behind me.

The cold night air hit me like a slap. I was on a remote hilltop, miles from the city, with no car and no phone signal. The wind whipped through my thin dress, and I started to shiver.

There was nothing to do but walk.

I started down the long, winding road, my fancy dinner shoes pinching my feet. Each step was a fresh wave of agony, both physical and emotional.

A memory surfaced, unbidden. A year ago, Ben and I had gone hiking on a trail not far from here. I'd tripped and twisted my ankle. Without a word, he had crouched down, insisting on carrying me all the way back to the truck. His back was warm and strong.

"I'll always be here to catch you, Addie," he'd whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Always."

I stumbled on a loose rock, my knees hitting the asphalt hard. The sharp pain brought me back to the present.

That man, Ben, was gone. Maybe he'd never really existed. The love he'd shown me, the promises he'd made-they belonged to a ghost, a man with no memory. Bernard Logan remembered everything, and he had chosen to forget me.

The realization was a cold, hard stone in my gut. It was over. Completely and utterly over.

I pushed myself up, my hands scraped and bleeding, and continued my long, lonely walk down the mountain. Tears streamed down my face, freezing in the cold air.

By the time I reached the main road and managed to flag down a taxi, the sun was beginning to rise.

I walked into my apartment, the place that had been our home, and it felt like a tomb.

The first thing I did was turn on my laptop. I filled out the immigration forms for Europe, my fingers flying across thekeyboard. I needed to get out. I needed to escape this city, this life, this pain.

Then I called my clinic and resigned, effective immediately. I told them it was a family emergency.

My phone rang as I was packing a suitcase. It was an unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something made me answer.

"Addison."

Bernard's voice. Cold and imperious.

"I need you to go to the St. Regis hotel. Pick up a gown for Evelin. It's for the Logan family gala tonight."

It wasn't a request. It was an order. He was treating me like an errand girl.

"Bernard," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "You and I are done. The contract is being drafted. I have no obligation to you or your fiancée."

He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "Did you forget about your father's music box? It's a fragile little thing. It would be a shame if something... happened to it."

The threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

"And while you're at it," he added, "you will apologize to Evelin for upsetting her last night."

My blood ran cold. "Apologize? For what?"

"For existing," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Be there in an hour." He hung up before I could say another word.

I stood there, trembling with a rage so profound it left me breathless. But the thought of my father's music box, the last piece of him, being destroyed by this monster... I couldn't bear it.

I threw on a coat and went to the hotel.

The suite was on the top floor. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside, my hand clutching the strap of my purse.

And then I heard their voices from the bedroom.

I froze, hiding behind a large decorative plant in the entryway.

"It was just an accident, my love," Bernard was saying, his voice laced with a honeyed sweetness that made me sick. "My two years of amnesia... finding her, marrying her... it was all a mistake. An unfortunate detour on my way back to you."

"But you were with her!" Evelin's voice was a high-pitched whine. "You touched her!"

"Only once, after my memory returned," he said quickly. "And I swear, I thought it was you. I was drugged at a business meeting, I was disoriented. When I woke up next to her, I left immediately. She means nothing to me, Evelin. Absolutely nothing. I've already paid her off to disappear. You'll never have to see her again, I promise."

A lie. A vicious, calculated lie to protect himself. That night, he had come home and made love to me with a desperate passion I had mistaken for love.

"Really?" Evelin asked, her voice softening.

"Really," he confirmed. "Now, come here. I've missed you so much."

I heard the rustle of sheets, a soft moan from Evelin.

"Bernard, stop... the fitting..." she giggled.

"The fitting can wait," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I want you. Now."

"You're so bad," she purred. "What are you going to do about that woman? The one you called? How should we punish her?"

There was a pause, then Bernard's voice, dark and indulgent. "Whatever you want, my love. Whatever makes you happy."