I pressed a hand to my burning cheek, slowly turning my head. My face stung, but I didn’t react. I didn’t cry, didn’t flinch.

Jason, however, looked away. Just for a second. Like he had seen something in my expression that made him uncomfortable.

But Yolanda wasn’t about to let it go.

"Whitney," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "Jason lost his memory and he’s still willing to let you be his mistress. You should be grateful. But instead, you're trying to ruin him?

“You know how much Connor loves his wife and yet you have the nerve to pretend to be Jason’s aunt? You’re literally dragging him down with you. You’re selfish and cruel!"

Her words barely registered. Yolanda had been ruining my life for as long as I could remember.

She was my stepfather’s daughter. On the seventh day after my father died, while we were still mourning in the funeral hall, my mother grabbed me by the back of the head and forced me to bow, forcing me to accept Yolanda as my ‘sister.’

She was like a ghost, always lurking, always watching, never allowing me to have anything for myself.

If she could take something from me, she did. If she couldn’t, she made sure no one else could have it either.

Five years ago, Jason had been my shield, standing in front of me like some untouchable force. Back then, he had looked at her with nothing but cold disdain, shutting her down without hesitation.

Now?

Now, he stood in front of her, throwing a thick stack of cash at my feet. "Isn’t this what you wanted?" His voice was slow, mocking. "Go ahead. Pick it up."

The edges of the bills were sharp, one of them catching my forehead as it fluttered down. A thin line of blood appeared just above my brow.

I didn’t wipe it away. But I did notice the flicker of hesitation in Jason’s eyes. Then, as if realizing he had slipped, he covered it up with a smirk.

I bent down. He let out a breath, laughing. "There we go. Knew you’d cave. A dog should act like a dog—"

I ignored him. I wasn’t reaching for the money. I was picking up the ring that had been thrown into the corner, half-buried under the scattered cash.

When I straightened, Jason’s smirk was gone. His expression darkened, his fingers twitching at his sides.

For the first time that night, he looked… uneasy. Before I could step away, he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and almost desperate.

"You really won’t let it go, will you?" His voice was low, his teeth clenched. "What, the money on the floor isn’t enough? You still need to hold onto a fake, broken ring?"

I frowned, confused. "Let go."

He didn’t. His grip only tightened. His jaw flexed like he was struggling to hold something back.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice dropped, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Fine. Yolanda and I are getting married in a week. My uncle’s coming home that day too.

"Why don’t you show up?" He leaned in, his voice laced with something sharp. "You can watch the wedding and while you’re at it, let my uncle see for himself what kind of pathetic, shameless garbage I threw away."

When Yolanda heard the word wedding, her whole face lit up. She could barely hide her excitement.

"Whitney, what’s wrong?" she teased, tilting her head. "You’re not scared to come, are you? Afraid of getting exposed?"

I carefully put the ring away, not bothering to look at her as I replied, voice flat. "Alright, I’ll go. Just don’t regret it later."

Then I walked out.

I stopped just outside the door, lingering for a moment. Maybe I just needed a second to breathe. Maybe I was waiting to hear what they would say once they thought I was gone.

Jason’s friend sighed. "Dude, you sure you didn’t take it too far? I don’t know, something about Whitney seemed… off. What if she actually got married?"

Jason let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, right. She’s just putting on an act."

His tone was full of confidence, like the thought of me moving on was so impossible that it wasn’t even worth considering. "She’s just playing hard to get. Trust me, I know her. This is her way of trying to get my attention."

But after a beat, he went quiet, probably thinking back to the way I had looked at him before I left. How calm I had been. How… unbothered.

Something about it must’ve unsettled him because when he spoke again, his voice had a slight edge.

"Whatever," he muttered. "I’m done playing anyway. After the wedding, I’ll 'get my memory back,' throw in some sad apologies, tell her she’s the only one I ever loved. Watch, she’ll be back at my feet in no time."

The group laughed, shaking their heads.

"Damn, Jason," one of them snickered. "You really got this whole thing figured out, huh?"

Jason grinned, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. "What can I say? One little case of amnesia and I got to live it up for five years. Meanwhile, Whitney spent those five years waiting for me, miserable and alone. No other man. No second chances. Just me."

Yolanda pouted, resting her head on his shoulder. "But Jason, if you get your memory back, what happens to me?"

Jason laughed, pinching her waist. "Relax. It’ll be the same as before. And besides…" He smirked. "Sneaking around is way more fun."

More laughter. More voices blending together in amusement. I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.

I turned and walked straight to the hotel entrance, my chest tight. The second I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, then another, trying to swallow the nausea creeping up my throat.

Jason had no idea. Five years ago, on the night he was supposedly killed in a car accident, I received a video. One I could never forget.

I pulled out my phone, tapped the screen and his voice filled my ears, light, amused, like he was talking about the weather.

"I love Whitney, but man, she’s just so dull. The thought of only having her for the rest of my life? Boring as hell.

"I’ll fake my death, disappear for a few years. When I come back, I’ll say I lost my memory. Oh, and make sure you get plenty of footage of her losing it over me. I can’t wait to see her completely fall apart."

The day the doctor announced Jason’s death, I did exactly what he would have wanted. I shattered.

The weight of it was so suffocating that I couldn’t even cry. It was like the whole world had collapsed and for a moment, I actually thought about going with him.

But his good friends—the ones who claimed to care so much—held me back, whispering empty reassurances, stopping me from doing something reckless.

I didn’t realize then that a phone was recording my pain from the shadows. I didn’t notice the way they bit their lips, struggling to hold back their laughter as they hid behind masks of false grief.

They weren’t mourning him. They were mocking me. I didn’t know. Not back then. But I do now. I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked away.

From that day on, Jason might have pretended to be dead. But to me? He was already gone.

***

The news of Jason being alive spread like wildfire—announced right alongside his upcoming wedding. That night, Yolanda updated her status.

A breathtaking wedding venue. A custom-made designer gown. Only Love in This Life—the diamond ring Jason had once picked out for me.

Everything in those photos was something he had originally planned for our wedding. Now, he was holding her hand, their fingers intertwined as they posted cringeworthy love notes to each other for the whole world to see.

I barely glanced at it before swiping away. But before I could close the app, a message from Jason popped up. [Jealous yet? I bet you're losing your mind.]

I blocked him without replying.

Seconds later, another message came through. This time from Yolanda. [Saw it all, didn’t you? You’re nothing but a joke to us. Just a pathetic little clown for our entertainment. Only I deserve to be Mrs. Jagger.]

I blocked her too. Not worth my time.

***

A week later, the wedding happened as planned. I had no intention of going. But my daughter, stubborn as ever, wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, the ceremony had already reached the ring exchange.

Jason kept glancing at the entrance, brows slightly furrowed, like he was waiting for something. Then his eyes landed on me.

Immediately, his expression relaxed. A smirk played on his lips and when the MC asked if he would take Yolanda as his wife, he hesitated.

Just long enough to be noticed. Just long enough to make Yolanda’s fingers tighten around her bouquet. But whatever reaction he was expecting from me, he didn’t get it. Because I wasn’t watching.

I was off to the side, calmly eating cake like none of this had anything to do with me.

And that pissed him off. His jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening. The warmth in his expression disappeared in an instant.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shoved me hard. I had no time to react before I crashed into the drinks table beside me.

Glass shattered. The champagne tower—taller than me—collapsed, sending a wave of alcohol and glass shards raining down.

Pain shot through my forehead as my head hit the floor. Blood trickled down my face, blurring my vision, but through the haze, I swore I saw Jason flinch.

For half a second, he moved. Like he was about to step toward me. But before he could, Yolanda rushed past him.

She dropped to her knees, grabbing my arm in a death grip, tears already spilling down her face.

"Whitney!" she cried, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I invited you to my wedding out of kindness and this is how you repay me? I know you’re jealous that Jason only loves me now, but why? Why ruin my happiness? Can’t you stand to see me living a good life?"

Yolanda’s grip was brutal, her nails digging so deep into my skin that a dull numbness spread up my arm.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm, but the sharp sting made my scalp prickle. On instinct, I lifted my hands—just to push her off.

And the second I did, she screamed. Loud. Over-the-top. Completely fake.

Then, like she had been thrown by some invisible force, she flung herself backward, crashing onto the floor with all the grace of a third-rate actress.

I barely had time to react before something slammed into my back.

The force sent me stumbling, my ankle twisting painfully in my heels. A sharp gasp left my lips as the pain shot up my leg, but before I could even regain my balance, a furious voice cut through the air.

Jason.

"Are you serious?" He was practically seething, his eyes burning with rage. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t even remember you and yet you still can’t stop throwing yourself at me?"

His words were laced with disgust.

"I have never seen a woman as shameless as you," he sneered. "Apologize. Now. "

For a moment, everything was silent. Then the whispers started.

Most of the guests weren’t even here for Jason, they were here because Colton was supposed to make an appearance. But Jason was still a Jagger and people wanted to be on his good side.

So, naturally, they took his side.

"Geez, have some self-respect," someone muttered. "Jason doesn’t even remember her and she’s still chasing after him like a lost puppy."

"Yeah, and on his wedding day, no less. How desperate can you get?"

"You just couldn’t let your sister have this, huh?" another voice chimed in. "Ruining someone else’s wedding because you lost? That’s pure jealousy. Good thing Jason never married a jinx like her."

Laughter rippled through the crowd, low and mean. I didn’t flinch. I let them talk. But Yolanda? She lived for it.

She curled into Jason’s arms, clinging to him like some helpless victim. Then, just loud enough for everyone to hear, she let out a shaky gasp and pointed at my hand, her eyes wide with mock horror.

"Whitney…" She sounded devastated, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. "I told you Uncle Colton would be here today. And yet you still dared to bring that fake 'Only Love in This Life' ring?"

She paused for effect, then widened her eyes even more, like she had just realized something horrifying.

"Wait… could it be…" She pressed a hand to her mouth, gasping. "You say you love Jason, but deep down, you’re actually trying to seduce his uncle?"

The room fell completely silent. And then, chaos.

The second Yolanda said it, all eyes locked onto the ring on my finger.

Someone in the crowd scoffed loudly.

"You know, I heard a story like this before," they said, voice dripping with amusement. "Some woman showed up in front of Mrs. Jagger, pregnant, claiming the baby was Mr. Jagger’s. And you know what happened? Mrs. Jagger took off ‘Only Love in This Life’ for one day—just one damn day. And the next thing you know, that woman was found in Atessa’s underground market. Collar around her neck. Limbs gone."

The room went still. Jason’s expression darkened, the arrogance in his face flickering ever so slightly.

Yolanda leaned into him, voice soft, full of fake concern. "Jason, there are so many people watching," she murmured, pressing a hand to his chest. "Before Uncle Colton finds out, we should handle this quietly."

Jason hesitated for about two seconds. Then, without a word, he reached for a knife from the table.

My stomach dropped. I stepped back, but his friends were already closing in. Blocking every possible way out.

"Jason," I forced out, my voice steady even though my heart was hammering. "If you touch me, Colton will come after you."

Jason didn’t react, but Yolanda let out a small, almost sympathetic sigh.

"Whitney, stop being so stubborn," she said, shaking her head. "You don’t understand how ruthless Uncle Colton is. If he comes for you, it won’t just be your hands. Jason’s at least giving you the easy way out."

Jason stepped forward, gripping the knife tightly. For a split second, there was something almost hesitant in his eyes.

Then he forced a smirk. "I’ll be gentle."

Panic shot through me as strong hands grabbed my arms, pinning me down. I struggled, my breathing sharp and uneven.

"Let go!" I shouted, voice raw. "My husband is Colton!"

The whole room went dead silent. Then, laughter. Mocking, cruel, loud.

Jason squatted down, his face full of amusement, like I had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Whitney," he sighed, shaking his head. "I get it. You love me so much that you’ll say anything just to get my attention. But this?" He chuckled under his breath. "You don’t have to go that far. Even if you lose your hands, I won’t despise you."

Then, without another second of hesitation, he swung the knife down. A white-hot pain exploded through my body.

The ring, along with my ring finger, dropped to the floor.

My vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The pain was unreal, like my entire body had been set on fire.

Through the haze, I saw her. Yolanda.

She moved fast, grabbing my severed finger off the ground—then, before I could even process what was happening, she tossed it out the window.

When she turned back, her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. Jason’s friends shifted uncomfortably. One of them finally spoke up, voice low and uneasy.

"Jason… maybe that’s enough," he muttered. "Be careful, man. If you do get your memory back, this might not end well."

Yolanda’s expression twisted in an instant.

"Jason, don’t listen to him," she cut in, voice urgent. "Uncle Colton will be here any minute. Do you really want to stand here and watch as she gets all her limbs chopped off and ends up tied up in a pole?"

Another voice chimed in. "She’s right. Better to let her go with a prosthetic than to lose her life."

Jason clenched his jaw. For the first time all night, he actually looked uncertain. However, his hesitation lasted all of two seconds before his expression hardened again.

Jason’s grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching as he looked down at me; curled up, trembling, bleeding.

"Whitney, this is for your own good," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I’ll make it up to you later."

I couldn’t even respond. The pain was unbearable, my body shaking uncontrollably. My vision blurred, my breath shallow. All I could do was let silent tears slip from the corners of my eyes.

The knife gleamed under the light as Jason raised it again. I braced myself.

And then, the ballroom doors slammed open. The entire room went still. The once lively, mocking atmosphere instantly turned ice cold.

Colton Jagger walked in, his presence sucking all the air from the room.