LENA’S POV

As I sat in my new cozy apartment, sipping on a freshly brewed latte, my friends' voices came through the speaker, sounding concerned and relieved.

"Lena, we're just so glad you finally know the truth," Sophia said, her tone sincere. "We've always known that Marcelo was never good enough for you, but your love for him just blinded you to it all."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I can't believe I was so stupid, so blindly devoted to him. All the signs were there, and I just chose to ignore them." I paused, feeling a familiar ache in my chest. "My heart is still in pieces, you know?"

"I’m really sorry, babe," Yvonne chimed in, her voice gentle. "But you're not weak, okay? You're stronger than you know, and you've finally taken the first step to becoming free of that man."

I gave a stiff nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "You're right. I'm not going to let them keep me down any longer."

We laughed and joked till the call ended.

As the evening wore on, I got myself busy in the kitchen, fixing up a dinner of grilled chicken, roasted potatoes, and a tangy, homemade sauce. Cooking always distracted me and it was a great feeling.

Just as I was pouring myself another steaming mug of my favorite latte, my mom's face appeared on the video call. "Mija, how are you holding up?" she asked, her brows drawn together with concern.

I offered her a reassuring smile. "I'm doing better, Mama. This house is so peaceful, and I'm glad I chose it. I think I'm going to spend my time exploring the city later tonight. There's just something about this place that feels... liberating, you know?"

Mom nodded, though I could see the worry in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay being there by yourself?"

I chuckled, taking a sip of my latte. "I'm a big girl, Mama. I can handle it. Besides, I need this time to myself, to clear my head and figure out what's next."

She sighed. "Okay, sweetie. But please be careful. And there's something else. Your dad's health is declining, and with the look of things, he might not survive it. Wouldn't you come home?"

I felt guilty, but I knew I couldn't go back right now. "I'll return when I can, Mom. But for now, I need to focus on myself. I promise I'll stay in touch."

A message from Marcelo popped up on the screen then.

"Mama, I'm going to have to call you back," I said, my tone clipped. "Marcelo is trying to reach me, and I wanna see what he has to say."

Mom nodded in understanding and the call ended.

I took a deep breath and opened Marcelo's message. To my surprise, it was a series of photos – photos of a wedding dress that was definitely not my style.

I couldn't believe my eyes as I read the text. Along with the pictures of the wedding dress, he had added a message that made my blood boil.

"I let Francine pick it out because she has a higher taste than yours," he wrote.

I felt disgusted. How dare he? He had the nerve to insult me, to imply that Francine was somehow better than me. I was furious. So I was going to wear what Francine chose?

But I didn't let my anger get the best of me. Instead, I calmly read the rest of his message. He told me that the fitting was tomorrow and that I should be at the bridal shop at a certain time. He even sent me the address.

"I would have come to pick you up tomorrow," he wrote, "but I'm going to be engaged with business."

Yeah, right. I knew exactly what kind of "business" he was engaged in. More like engaged with Francine.

"How about having the wedding in seven days instead of twenty-one days from now?" he asked.

I typed back a response, as quickly as I could. "Anything you want," I wrote. "The faster I get married to the man of my dreams, the better."

Pfft. He used to be the man of my dreams but not anymore.

He sent me a heart emoji and a message that made my skin crawl. "I can't wait to make you my wife," he wrote.

I knew deep down that he was trying to rush the whole wedding because he didn’t want me to get my memories back fully.

Just as I was about to respond to his message, the door burst open and a bleeding man stumbled in. He was holding his lower abdomen, and he looked like he was in pain.

I screamed at the top of my voice as he passed out on the floor. My heart was beating fast, and my mind was spinning. What was happening?

LENA’S POV

My legs felt like lead as I stared down at the unconscious man lying on my living room floor. Who the hell was he, and how did he find his way here? I had to find out.

Cautiously, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife I could find, holding it tightly in my trembling hand. I needed to protect myself, just in case this stranger posed a threat.

With the knife gripped firmly, I slowly approached the man again, peering out the front window as I went.

The street outside was dark and deserted, apart from an expensive black convertible parked haphazardly at the curb. Was that his car? Did he come here for a reason? My stomach twisted with unease as I shut the door quickly.

With all my strength, I dragged him across the floor, trying not to hurt him further. As I pulled him, I noticed that he was bleeding profusely, but I checked his breathing closely, relieved to find that he was still alive.

I drew in a sharp breath and bent down beside the man, trying to get a better look at him.

He was dressed in a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame and a pair of dark slacks. His tattoos on his arms were visible, and a silver earring glinted in his ear. His luscious dark hair fell over his forehead, framing his chiseled features. I couldn't help but notice how breathtakingly handsome he was, even in his current state.

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the knife and setting it aside. Panic set in as I wondered what to do with him.

I was in a new city, with no connections, and I had no idea what to do.Should I call the police? What if he died?

But what if they didn't believe me? What if they thought I had something to do with this? My mind raced with panicked thoughts.

I leaned in closer and noticed the gaping wound in his abdomen. Blood was still seeping from it, staining the fabric of his shirt.

Carefully, I reached out and pressed my hand against it, trying to stop the flow. I could feel his warm skin beneath my fingertips, and my heart had skipped a beat. Focus, Lena, I told myself sternly.

I searched around for a first aid kit before finally locating one in the bathroom cabinet. Hurrying back to the living room, I knelt beside the man and began cutting away his shirt with a small pair of scissors.

My eyes popped out at the sight of his toned muscular chest. Was he a movie star or top magazine model ? I tried to focus, reminding myself that I needed to help him.

As I examined his wound, I realized that he had been shot. I quickly got to work, trying to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. My hands shook as I worked, but I tried to stay calm.

When I was done, I applied a thick, sterile dressing, wrapping it tightly around his middle. Just as I was about to check his pulse again, his eyes suddenly fluttered opened. I gasped as I stared into the most piercing crystal blue eyes I had ever seen. They were sexy, intense, and seemed to bore into my soul.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the only sound being his uneasy breathing. I felt like I was drowning in those eyes, unable to look away.

He tried to sit up with much difficulty. "Now who the hell are you?" He demanded, his voice low and rough.

I scowled at him. "I could ask you the same question. You just barged into my house and passed out disrespectfully," I pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow. "What the heck?" he said. "You're the stranger here obviously."

"How about you stop being rude and say thank you?" I suggested. "You're not dead right now because I saved your life. I could have just left you to die on the floor."

He frowned, glancing down at the bandage on his abdomen for the first time. "What the fuck?" he muttered as a look of surprise crossed his face.

Turning his attention back to me, he said, "Alright, fine. Thank you for not letting me bleed out on your floor." He paused, then added, "Now why don't you complete the help and help me get on my feet?"

I groaned inwardly and cautiously set the knife aside and moved closer to him. "Alright, come on then. But just so you know, you're quite heavy."

With some effort, I managed to get him to his feet, but I immediately felt unsteady. He was so much taller than me that he ended up towering over me. I tripped under his weight and he quickly reached out to steady me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

LENA’S POV

I caught a whiff of his musky scent, and for a moment, I was entranced. But then I snapped out of it, pulling away from him quickly.

He cleared his throat, looking at me with a serious expression. "Okay, can you explain your mission in my house?" he asked. "Were you sent to spy on me or kill me?"

I looked at him weirdly like he suddenly had horns grown on his head. "Your house? Excuse me, but this is my house. I live here, and I paid for it fair and square." I gestured towards the room. "This is an Airbnb, and I'm the one who's renting it for the next two weeks."

He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. "An Airbnb? That's funny, because I don't recall putting this place up for rent."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Well, someone did. And I paid good money for it, so it's mine for the next two weeks, whether you like it or not."

He shrugged, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that this is my house. I don't know how you managed to book it through Airbnb, but it's not yours."

"Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not leaving," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. "You know, you're awfully stubborn for someone who's trespassing in my house."

"And you're awfully rude for someone who just barged into my rented place and passed out on the floor. Are you a criminal? Why were you bleeding?"

“That’s none of your business sweetheart,”

My heart raced as I watched in horror as a gun suddenly slid out of the stranger's back pocket. I quickly grabbed the knife lying on the floor.

"Oh my God," I breathed, my eyes wide with fear. "You're armed?"

He glanced down at the gun, then back up at me. "Yeah, I am," he said calmly. "Problem?"

I swallowed hard, my hands all shaky as I held the knife in front of me. "I'm also armed," I said, trying to sound confident. "And I'm not afraid to use this."

He raised a brow, looking a bit amused. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But let's be real here, sweetheart. One cock of this gun, and your brains would be all over the floor before you could even raise that little knife of yours."

I felt a chill run down my body at his words, and I couldn't help but notice the way his physique dwarfed my own.

Still, I refused to back down. "Excuse me?" I scoffed. "So you're admitting that you're a criminal then? Were you sent here by Francine or Marcelo?"

He shot me a scowl."Who the heck is Marcelo or Francine?" He shook his head, then quickly slid the gun back into his pocket. "Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the moment I opened my eyes, not wasted time chatting with you."

I backed away from him."So what, you're just here to rob me or something?"

He let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to the fridge, pulling it open. "No, I'm not here to rob you. In fact, I'm just here to lay low for a while." He grabbed a can of my favorite mojito and cracked it open, taking a long sip.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Lay low? And you think you can just barge in here and make yourself at home? Besides, I did not give you permission to drink that."

He shrugged, taking another sip of the drink. "Well, one of us has to leave, and it sure as hell ain't gonna be me." He gestured around the room with the can. "This is my place, after all. Also, show me the site where you found this house for sale,"

Reluctantly, I pulled out my phone and showed him the Airbnb listing for the property. He squinted at the screen with a frown.

"Huh, that's interesting," he murmured. "It must have been my younger sister who put this place up for rent.

I guess the little brat thought she could make a quick buck while I was out of town."

I blinked, caught off guard by his casual admission. "Well anyway I’m calling the police. I’m not staying with a stranger."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Good luck with that, sweetheart. I doubt they'll be too eager to help you out."

I was starting to get really frustrated now. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He fixed me with a serious look. "It means that the cops aren't exactly on my side. And if you try to involve them, well, let's just say it might not end well for you."