When I was pulled from the wreckage of the twisted luxury sports car, my fiancé, Blake Caldwell, looked devastated. His eyes were bloodshot, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

So, on a whim, I decided to mess with him.

"I… I don't think I remember anything. Where is this?" I asked, looking at him with a deliberately blank expression.

He froze, then shoved his notoriously cold older brother, Julian Caldwell, in front of me.

"Julian," he said, the word 'fiancée' drawn out with a chilling slowness. "Take her to the private hospital. Now."

The smile on my face froze solid.

Julian swept me into his arms, his deep voice a low murmur against my ear.

"Sarah, I'm your fiancé. Have you forgotten?"

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1

After a battery of tests, the doctor delivered a diagnosis: my "amnesia" was a side effect of the concussion. It was so convincing, it sent a chill down my spine.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

A flash of joy crossed Blake's eyes—he didn't even try to hide it.

So, he wasn't worried about me at all.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, a cold dread spreading through my veins.

Meanwhile, Julian carefully draped a blanket over my shoulders, his movements deliberate and gentle.

"Wait here. I'll go handle the paperwork."

I stared at his sharp profile and nodded numbly.

After he left, I slipped out of the room and followed him.

Blake's gleeful voice drifted from the end of the hall. "Julian, you have to help me out. I can finally be free of Sarah. She's as dull as a statue. It drives me mad watching her fiddle with those cameras while I have to pretend I'm head-over-heels. You have no idea how much I've suffered."

Julian's voice was like a shard of ice. "She's your fiancée. If she remembers, this will be a massive problem."

A moment of silence. Then, Blake's voice, practically begging.

"You know I've always been into Chloe. But she's just the adopted daughter; the family is insisting I marry Sarah. Now that she's 'forgotten,' just give me and Chloe some time together. You're my brother. I trust you. Just… don't get too attached. I still have to marry Sarah in the end."

I choked back a gasp and stumbled back to the waiting room, my entire body shaking.

The man who'd followed me on my photographic journeys—from Scottish castles to the Moroccan desert—constantly whispering how much he loved me, had just pawned me off on his brother without a second thought.

I was done with his lies.

Since Chloe was the one he truly wanted…

Fine. Let them have their "happiness."

When Julian returned, he steadied me with a hand on my arm, as if I were made of glass.

In the car, he leaned over me, the scent of his cologne subtle and clean, as he carefully fastened my seatbelt.

We arrived at his penthouse duplex overlooking Central Park. Standing on the plush carpet of his bedroom, I felt completely out of place.

Black, white, and grey.

No photos, no trinkets. Even the pillows on the bed looked cold and severe.

The whole place felt like a pristine, luxurious model home that had never been lived in.

There wasn't a single feminine touch anywhere.

I clutched my clothes, still damp from the rain and flecked with glass, standing there in a daze.

Julian didn't even bat an eye.

"Go get changed. You can wear my pajamas."

He leaned in, his lips brushing my forehead as if checking for a fever. He let out a soft sigh of relief. "Good, no fever. Get some rest. I'll make you some hot mulled wine."

I'd only ever known him to be untouchable.

Cold. Aloof.

No one dared get close.

I'd even heard a rumor that some socialite had tried to drug his drink, and he'd broken her arm for it.

And now?

But the way he looked at me now… his gaze was so gentle I felt I could drown in it.

This man, who was ice to every other woman, was ignoring his own brother's warning, holding me, kissing my forehead.

I watched Julian's broad back as he moved about the open-plan kitchen.

He must have sensed my gaze, because he glanced over his shoulder, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Just a little longer. It's almost ready."

I bit my lip, forcing myself out of the daze. "I don't want to be a bother."

His smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You're not. I'm your fiancé. It's my pleasure to take care of you."

Julian was a man of discipline, of restraint. A man with zero tolerance for deceit.

And yet, here he was, being the first to lie.

The next day was the Caldwell Group's annual charity gala.

I walked into the venue—a sea of champagne-colored roses and dripping crystal decorations. The floor was carpeted in white petals.

But the elegance felt forced, almost staged.

Blake's friends, who usually swarmed me, were now as silent as church mice.

The door was suddenly thrown open—

"Blake, darling, I got the Van Cleef & Arpels necklace you wanted! Don't screw this up tonight—give Chloe the grand entrance she deserves!"

A deafening silence fell over the room.

No one spoke.

Everyone suddenly found their shoes fascinating, their eyes darting between Blake and me, the awkwardness so thick you could cut it with a knife.

So this wasn't just a charity gala. It was a meticulously planned debut for Chloe.

I linked my arm through Julian's, letting out a soft laugh that sliced through the quiet.

"Why is everyone so tense? It's wonderful that Blake has found his true love."

Someone finally mumbled awkwardly.

"Sarah… you don't mind?"

Blake shot me a look that could kill.

I pretended not to notice, taking a graceful sip of the champagne Julian held to my lips.

"Why would I mind? I'm his future sister-in-law. Of course I'm invested in his happiness."

Blake's shoulders went rigid, but he managed to force a smile.

"That's right. I've been in love with Chloe for years, and now I can finally be with her."

The tension in the room eased, the chatter resuming.

When Chloe whispered "I do" under the spotlight, the crowd erupted in cheers and jokes.

Without me—the inconvenient ex-fiancée—in the way, he could finally kiss the girl he'd always wanted.

My vision blurred with tears. I stood abruptly, desperate for the cool air of the terrace.

From the shadows of the balcony, a soft, tearful voice emerged.

"Blake… it hurts so much, watching you with Sarah. I'm just an adopted daughter. Even after all those years she was gone, you were still engaged to her."

Blake was quick to soothe her. "Baby, you're the most precious thing in my life. Sarah's covered in scars from her stupid photography trips—it's disgusting to even look at them. And who knows how many guys she was with all those years she was away? Every time I had to be with her… I was thinking of you."

I remembered him in my bed, gently tracing the scars left by a run-in with aggressive paparazzi, vowing he would always protect me.

And now?

He was using those same scars to tear me down, just to make another woman feel good.

To appease her, Blake rolled up his sleeve, showing off a brand-new tattoo on his wrist—a delicate butterfly, Chloe's favorite motif.

Right where the "S" for my name had once been inked.

The man who had sworn that ink was forever had just erased me completely.

The soft, wet sounds of kissing drifted from the terrace again.

The sounds were quiet, but each wet smack was a fresh stab to my heart.

I turned to leave, only to walk straight into a solid chest.

It was Julian.

His brow furrowed in concern as he looked down at me. His thumb gently swept a tear from my cheek.

"Baby… why are you crying?"

Worry etched his features as he leaned in, his lips finding mine.

Just then, the terrace door swung open.

Blake froze, his gaze locking on us—my flushed face, my lips locked with his brother's. His expression turned thunderous.

"Julian, what the hell are you doing?"

His voice was a low warning.

I had to laugh.

He'd been the one to push me into another man's arms, and now he couldn't stand the sight of it.

What did he think I was? A toy to be passed around at his convenience?

Julian tightened his arm around my waist, a challenging smirk playing on his lips.

"My fiancée is upset. I'm comforting her. Are you blind?"

Before Blake could retort, Chloe slipped out from behind him, clinging to his arm.

"Sarah, I heard you lost your memory in the accident. I've been so worried. It's so good to see that you and Julian are still so in love."

Her words were dripping with saccharine venom.

My breath hitched when I saw the fresh hickey blooming on her neck.

At the end of the night, Julian got an urgent call about a cross-border merger and had to leave, asking Blake to drive me home.

But the moment we were in the car, Chloe pressed a hand to her temple.

"Oh, I feel a little dizzy. And I need to stop by the bank to handle something."

I wanted to get my own cab, but they insisted I come along.

In the bank's private VIP lounge, Chloe suddenly produced a folder.

"Sarah, I'm launching my own personal brand for content creators, and I need a little startup capital. I was hoping you could…"

Before she could finish, Blake grabbed my wrist.

"She's your sister. Just co-sign the loan from your trust fund, what's the big deal?"

I stared at him, shocked, and tried to pull my arm away.

He frowned, his patience already wearing thin.

"You've been targeting Chloe ever since you got back. What's the big deal? Just guarantee the loan. God, Sarah Dubois, why do you have to be so cold?"

His grip was like iron; I couldn't break free.

I could only stand there, my face pale, as the bank manager and a lawyer cornered me, pressing me to sign the guarantee agreement.

Chloe watched with a smug, triumphant smile, her red lips curved in victory.

Blake's tirade continued, as if I were the villain. "Why are you making such a scene? Just cooperate and this will all be over. Chloe's your sister, too. Don't be so selfish. It's just money, it's not going to kill you."

He didn't seem to notice my lips turning white, my body swaying as the room started to close in.

Then—

The door burst open. It was Julian.

He strode in, ripped the contract from the manager's hand and tore it to shreds, his face a dark storm cloud.

"Blake, is this how you take care of my fiancée?"

As he spoke, he guided me into a chair, his touch so careful it felt like I might shatter. A second later, he grabbed a pale-faced Blake by the arm and hauled him into a side office.

Without another word, Chloe snatched her Hermès bag. "It's getting late. I'm heading home." She practically fled.

I followed silently and stood outside the office door.

The temperature inside seemed to have dropped to freezing.

Blake snapped, "Sarah is my fiancée. I'll do what I want. You're the one acting weird—don't tell me you've actually fallen for her."

He missed the storm gathering in Julian's eyes and barreled on. "You've never even been with a woman. Sarah's a bore, not your type at all. I was sick of her ages ago. You should find someone… untouched."

He was dead wrong.

Julian's fist slammed down on the desk. He lunged forward, grabbing Blake by the collar.

Blake flinched, clutching his chest and coughing.

The next second, Julian's hand was around his throat, pinning him against the wall.

"Blake, have I been too good to you? Is that how you talk about her? What the hell does that make you?"

His grip tightened. "I've been cleaning up your messes your whole life. If you're so unhappy with this arrangement, why don't you go tell her the truth?"

Blake's face was turning purple as he choked out, "I get it… I misspoke. But you still need to back off. It's bad for your reputation. You don't have to be so attentive just for my sake."

And just like that, it was settled.

But a strange glint flashed in Julian's eyes.

Something felt off.

Back at his place, Julian made cream of mushroom soup from scratch.

He watched me finish every spoonful before pulling me into his arms and lying down on the bed with me.

The man who'd promised to back off was now holding me as I slept.

As if his brother's warning meant nothing at all.

That night, I dreamt of the day Blake's business rivals had kidnapped me.

He was always so reckless, making enemies was practically his hobby.

He'd said he would pick me up from my gallery opening. I waited for two hours.

His enemies showed up instead.

They dragged me to an abandoned pier, their filthy hands all over me, their foul breath on my skin.

Julian was the one who rescued me.

As for Blake? He was off at a fashion week event with Chloe.

At the time, he'd told me, "She's your sister. I was helping you maintain family ties."

And I, like a fool, had believed him.

I woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat, tears streaming down my face.

Julian, still half-asleep, pulled me tighter into his embrace. "Baby, don't be scared. I'm here."

I looked at his sleep-softened face, feeling a wave of dizziness.

Before, he wouldn't spare me a glance, acting as if my very presence annoyed him. Now, this gentleness came so easily. Was it real? Or was this all just an elaborate ruse to teach his brother a lesson?