I spent days alone in the hospital, staring at the blank walls, my mind racing with thoughts I didn’t want to entertain. James never visited. Not once. The only person who showed up was Kate, but even her presence felt off, like she was only there out of obligation. I tried calling James multiple times, but his phone was either off or unreachable. Every unanswered call felt like another stab to my already shattered heart. Was he mourning the loss of the baby? Or was he just avoiding me?

The day I was discharged, I decided I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for answers. I needed to see him for myself. Still pretending to be blind, I asked one of his employees to escort me to his office at the canned goods factory.

The moment I reached his office door, I stopped in my tracks. I could hear voices inside. James. And someone else. Curious, I leaned in, my heart pounding in my chest as I recognized the other voice—Andrew, his stepbrother. Their conversation sent ice down my spine.

“She doesn’t know a thing,” James said, his tone smug. “She still thinks I’m just some loving fiancé who forgave her for getting pregnant out of nowhere.”

Andrew chuckled. “And you’re sure she has no idea that it was you all along?”

James scoffed. “She was too drunk to even recognize me that night of her debut. Well, told her to drink before performing so that she won't have an anxiety attack. Besides, the disguise worked perfectly. The moment she told me she was pregnant, I knew I had to play along. If she found out the truth, she would’ve run. We know that. And for god's sake, I thought she didn't love me back then because she was chasing her dream to be a famous singer that's why I did it. At least, she couldn't run anymore if I impregnated her, right?"

I slapped a hand over my mouth, my body trembling. James. My fiancé. My supposed “protector.” He was my producer. The man who had raped me. Everything suddenly made sense—why he never questioned how I got pregnant, why he accepted it so easily. He had planned this from the start.

He once told me he wants to have a baby already but I couldn't risk my hard work in my music so I dosagreed.

My stomach twisted in disgust, but I forced myself to stay silent. With shaky hands, I pulled out my phone and took a few photos of them, needing proof of this conversation. But before I could do anything else, a familiar voice called out from behind me.

“Zoey?”

Kate. My body froze. I turned just in time to see the shock on her face. But it wasn’t just shock—it was disappointment. Her eyes darted to my phone, then back to me. And in that split second, I knew she had figured it out. I wasn’t blind.

“Zoey, what the hell are you doing?” she shouted, her voice loud enough to alert James and Andrew inside the office. Panic surged through me. Without thinking, I turned and ran.

“Get her!” I heard James’ furious voice behind me, followed by the sound of footsteps. I sprinted through the factory, weaving between workers and crates, my heart pounding. My legs burned as I pushed forward, but I didn’t stop—not until I reached the hill that overlooked the ocean. There was nowhere else to go.

I turned around, breathing heavily, as James, Kate, and Andrew caught up to me.

“You sick bastard,” I spat at James, my voice shaking. “You tricked me. You—”

“You were never supposed to find out,” he cut me off, his expression unreadable. “But now that you have… we’ll have to fix this.”

“Fix this?” I laughed bitterly. “You think you can fix this? You raped me, James. You ruined my life. For these past few months, I thought you were the producer but what? Y-You just wore a mask to fucking make me believe!"

Kate stepped forward, her expression softer, as if trying to calm me down. “Zoey, listen to me—”

“Don’t come near me,” I warned, my feet dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. “I swear, I’d rather jump than let any of you touch me.”

Kate hesitated, then sighed. “You’re ruining everything,” she murmured. Before I could react, she lunged. Her hands shoved against my shoulders, sending me backward. I felt weightless. Air rushed past me as I plummeted. The last thing I heard before I hit the water was Kate’s terrified scream—

“She jumped! She jumped on her own!”

LIAR. The ocean swallowed me whole. Cold, dark, endless. I thrashed, kicking, trying to fight my way to the surface, but the waves were too strong. Water filled my lungs.

My body ached. My vision blurred. And then… nothing.

I woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. My body felt heavy, my limbs sore. When I tried to move, a sharp pain shot through my ribs.

Where… am I? Blinking, I realized I wasn’t in the ocean anymore. I was lying on a small cot inside a wooden hut. And then I saw him. A man sat nearby, staring at me like he had seen a ghost. His dark hair was messy, his clothes worn, and his tanned skin told me he spent most of his time under the sun. I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper.

“W-where am I?” I croaked.

The man blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. “You’re awake,” he muttered, his voice deep and rough. I swallowed hard.

“Who… are you?”

He hesitated before answering, “Damon. I’m a fisherman. I found you washed up on the shore.”

Damon. The name didn’t ring a bell, but something about him felt… safe. I tried sitting up, wincing at the soreness in my muscles.

“How long have I been here?”

“Three days,” he answered. “I almost thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Three days. That meant James and Kate probably thought I was dead. For the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this was my chance to disappear—to start over. But then, one morning, Damon returned from fishing with a newspaper in hand. He placed it in front of me without a word. My heart stopped when I saw my own face printed on the front page. MISSING. And underneath it, James’ name, offering a hefty reward for any information about me.

“He’s looking for you,” Damon said carefully. “Your husband. Damn! I knew it, you're that singer!"

I just let out a sigh. A bitter laugh escape my lips. “Shh... don't be noisy. And husband? That bastard is the reason I almost died.”

I told Damon everything—the rape, the lies, the betrayal. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. But when I told him James would kill me if he found me, his expression changed.

“I need to hide you,” he said firmly.

For the first time in forever, I felt like someone was on my side. But that night, my world shattered all over again. Damon told me he was going out for a while. I trusted him. But when he returned, he wasn’t alone. Behind him stood James’ men. Panic gripped my chest as I recognized the guards. Damon wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Damon…” My voice trembled.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I needed the money. My wife… she’s in the hospital. I had no choice.”

Before I could run, the guards grabbed me. Darkness swallowed me once more.

When I woke up, I was tied to a chair inside an abandoned room. The dim lighting barely illuminated the space, but I knew exactly where I was. James’ warehouse. The door creaked open, and Kate stepped in. Gone was the sweet, concerned best friend. In her place was a woman filled with hatred and resentment. She slapped me, the sharp sting making my head snap to the side.

“You ruined everything,” she hissed.

I glared at her, refusing to let her see my fear. “You tried to kill me.”

Kate smirked. “I should have pushed harder.”

I clenched my fists. “Why, Kate? Why betray me?”

Her smirk widened as she stepped back, placing a hand on her stomach. “I had a plan, Zoey,” she said. “James was supposed to think this baby was his.”

I froze. Then, to my horror, Kate lifted her shirt and peeled off a fake belly. My stomach twisted in confusion. If she wasn’t really pregnant… then how did she plan to convince James he had a child?

Kate’s eyes burned with a cold fury as she glared down at me. “Listen, Zoey,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous, “if you ever let James know what really happened, I’ll kill you. So leave us. Understand?”

I could only nod, my throat tight with disbelief and betrayal. Somehow, despite everything, she let me live—with one very strict condition: I was to disappear from their lives forever and never meddle again in anything involving James.

I couldn’t let the moment pass without asking the questions that had been clawing at my mind. “Kate, why… why would you do this? How did you end up with him?” I demanded, my voice trembling between anger and sorrow.

Kate’s gaze faltered for a moment before she sighed, as if the weight of years pressed upon her. “While you were busy chasing your music career, James was looking for someone who would love him. And I was there—waiting, listening, and eventually, we fell for each other.”

Her confession hit me like a punch. All those years as partners in crime, the secrets we’d shared since childhood, had twisted into something unrecognizable. I had never imagined that the friend I trusted more than anyone would steal not only the man I once thought was mine but also my chance to discover the truth behind everything.

Before the first rays of dawn had even graced the sky, Kate and her loyal bodyguards set our escape plan into motion. As we huddled in a shadowed corner of the safe house, she leaned close and murmured, “By the way, James’s bodyguard is mine. They're my spy, my eyes inside his circle.”

The chill that ran down my spine was matched only by the shock that was yet to come. Just as I began to process her words, Kate signaled one of her guards over. He emerged carrying a large, battered bag. With deliberate care, Kate opened it—and I nearly lost my breath. Inside was the decomposing corpse of a woman who bore an eerie, almost exact resemblance to myself. My stomach churned as the reality set in.

“You… you bought her?” I stammered, unable to reconcile the sight with the friend I once knew.

Kate’s expression remained unreadable. “She was the perfect double. With her, I could fake your death and fool everyone about it. It’s all part of the plan, Zoey.”

The plan that had cost me everything. I felt a surge of disappointment and anguish. We had been partners in crime since we were kids—inseparable in our mischief and dreams. But somewhere along the way, after she married into wealth and luxury of a business investor to James's company, something had changed in Kate. She had become someone unrecognizable, consumed by ambition and greed. I never imagined she would stoop so low as to manipulate James—and, by extension, me—in such a twisted way.

Even as my heart broke over the loss of trust and the betrayal of our past, a deeper despair began to take root. I had already lost so much, and now it seemed that the truth behind my parents’ mysterious death—a death that left behind a massive company and a legacy tainted by whispers implicating James—would forever remain buried in lies and deceit.

A few weeks later, I managed to vanish into a safe house far from prying eyes. I had barely begun to settle into my new hiding place when, on the day of my planned escape, I was startled by a presence. I barely had time to react before I saw Damon emerge from the shadows, a cold determination in his eyes and a gun pointed directly at me. I froze, every instinct screaming to run.

“Did Kate send you to kill me?” I managed to ask, my voice barely a whisper.

DANG! Damon’s expression softened, and he slowly shook his head. “No, Zoey, I’m not here to kill you. I’m here because I can’t live with what I did. I needed to stop you from running away—to convince you to join me in getting even with those who’ve wronged you.”

His words were laced with guilt and a strange sort of urgency. I refused at first, suspicion and hurt mingling in my gut, but Damon’s eyes held a promise of redemption that I couldn’t entirely ignore.

“I’m willing to help you make things right,” he insisted.

And so, with a heavy heart, I agreed.

A few days later, Damon handed me a crinkled newspaper. The headline leapt out at me in bold letters: Kate to Marry James – New Mother in Town! I scanned the article, my pulse quickening with every word. It detailed the upcoming wedding between Kate and James and even mentioned that Kate had just given birth. I felt a sick knot forming in my stomach. Something was terribly wrong. The more I read, the more it became clear that the woman I once called my best friend had orchestrated an elaborate lie, and now the consequences were spiraling out of control.

Determined to uncover the truth once and for all, I hatched a daring plan. On the day of their wedding, I disguised myself as one of the male staff members at the reception. Under the guise of anonymity, I weaved through the busy hall, my eyes fixed on every detail. When the moment was right, I discreetly approached the area where Kate and James’s baby was cradled. With trembling hands, I managed to snatch a few stray hairs from the baby’s head—samples I intended to subject to a DNA test that might finally reveal the truth about who the real mother was.

As the wedding unfolded around me with laughter, music, and forced smiles, I felt like an outsider peering through a cracked window into a life that was not meant for me. Every step I took felt laden with both resolve and sorrow. I watched Kate move gracefully among the guests, her demeanor that of a proud bride, while James—ever the enigma—stood by her side with an unsettling calm. I knew that behind the charm and the façade, there were secrets waiting to be unraveled.

That night, as the reception wound down and the world outside began to stir with the promise of dawn, I found a moment to catch my breath. I clutched the stolen hairs in my hand, the tiny strands representing my only hope of vindication. My mind raced with questions. How did Kate created her story a fabrication knowing that James is too skeptical?

The following days were a blur of anxious waiting and restless nights. Every passing minute felt like an eternity as I sat alone in the dim light of my hideout, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. Damon visited occasionally, always with a grim expression, as if the burden of his guilt and the impending reckoning with our enemies haunted him as much as it did me.

Then, one crisp morning, Damon returned with a sealed envelope clutched tightly in his hand. He looked into my eyes with an intensity that made my heart pound faster. “Zoey, I’ve got the results from the DNA test,” he said, his voice heavy with a mix of apprehension and determination.

I reached out slowly, my fingers trembling as I took the envelope from him. I tore it open. My eyes widened, and my breath caught in my throat as I read the single, shocking word written across the paper:

POSITIVE.

In that instant, everything I thought I knew crumbled around me. My world, already built on lies and betrayal, turned upside down in a way I had never imagined possible. The word “Positive” burned itself into my consciousness, a harsh declaration that the baby—this child now celebrated by Kate and James—WAS MINE. And with that realization, a tidal wave of emotions crashed over me: fury, sorrow, and a desperate need for revenge mingled with a bittersweet sense of validation.

I sank back into my chair, the room spinning as I tried to comprehend the enormity of what Damon’s revelation meant. My life, my past, and everything I had lost were now tied irrevocably to a future I could neither control nor predict. The truth had surfaced, raw and unyielding, and it left me with more questions than answers.

As I stared at the result, my mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come. I knew that confronting Kate, James, and everyone involved would set off a chain reaction that might leave nothing but ruin in its wake. Yet, in that moment of utter shock and disbelief, one thing was unmistakably clear: I could no longer hide in the shadows. The time for silent suffering was over.

My heart pounded in my chest as I realized that the journey to reclaim my life and expose the treachery that had shattered everything I once believed in was just beginning. And as I sat there, the single word echoing in my mind, I knew that the coming days would force me to confront not only the demons of my past but also the painful reality of the future that lay ahead. My world had been turned upside down, and there was no going back.

KATE STOLE MY SON. Then she lied to me that I lost... my baby!

Every passing day felt like a countdown to something inevitable. Damon and I had spent nights planning, going over every possible way to infiltrate James’ company. His electronics empire was massive, and if we wanted to uncover the truth and get the upper hand, we needed to get inside. That meant finding a way to work there—blending in, learning the ins and outs of the place.

The problem? Neither of us knew the first thing about repairing appliances.

So we found someone who did.

For weeks, we trained under an old technician who had no idea who we really were. Damon caught on quickly, his hands steady and precise, while I struggled at first, my frustration mounting with every mistake. But I had no choice—I had to learn. This was the only way.

When the day finally came to apply for jobs, I felt confident. That was until Damon stopped me outside the company gates.

“You can’t go in like that,” he muttered, scanning my face.

“What do you mean?” I frowned, adjusting my cap.

He let out a sigh. “Zoey, you were famous once. Even with your accident and everything that happened, people will recognize you. You need to disguise yourself.”

I hated that he was right.

Reluctantly, I bought a short, choppy wig that completely altered my look. My long, flowing hair was gone, replaced by something straight and dull. I changed my style, darkened my skin slightly with makeup, and even wore thick-rimmed glasses to make myself look like a completely different person. It was unsettling how easy it was to disappear behind a fake identity.

For a few days, it worked.

But then… I noticed something strange.

A man.

He was always nearby—too close for coincidence. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid, but then I saw him again. At a coffee shop. In the company cafeteria. Outside the dormitory we were renting.

I told Damon about him, and he immediately went on high alert. “Someone’s watching you,” he said, his jaw tightening. “We need to be careful.”

We were right to be worried.

A few nights later, my world shattered again.

It started with a single photo. One that spread like wildfire across social media. A blurry shot of me—disguised but still recognizable to those who knew me well. The caption made my stomach drop.

"Spotted: Is former singer Zoey back from the dead?"

Panic gripped me.

Who took this? Who posted it? Was it that obsessed fan? Or worse… James?

Damon and I packed our things that night, preparing to leave the city before James or his men could find us. But we weren’t fast enough.

As we stepped onto the quiet street, a van screeched to a halt in front of us. The doors swung open, and before I could react, figures in black masks lunged at me.

“Run!” Damon shouted, but it was too late.

I fought. I kicked, screamed, thrashed. But they were stronger.

The last thing I saw before darkness consumed me was James stepping out of the van, his face cold and unforgiving.

I woke up in a dimly lit room, my wrists bound, my body aching. My head throbbed from the rough handling, and my throat felt raw from screaming.

James sat across from me, twirling a knife between his fingers.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he mused, his voice calm, almost amused.

I glared at him. “Go to hell.”

His smirk widened. “Oh, Zoey. You’re already there.”

Days passed in agony. They didn’t kill me, but they made sure I suffered.

The beatings weren’t brutal, but they were enough to break my spirit little by little. The isolation. The psychological games. James was playing with me, waiting for me to crack.

But I wouldn’t.

I refused to give him the satisfaction.

Then, something unexpected happened.

One night, when I had given up hope of ever escaping, my door creaked open. I tensed, expecting another round of torment.

But it wasn’t James.

It was Kate.

She stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind her. Her expression was unreadable.

“Get up,” she whispered.

I blinked. “What?”

She pulled a knife from her boot and cut the rope binding my wrists. “I’m getting you out of here.”

I hesitated, confused. “Why are you helping me?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just move.”

Still weak, I followed her out, slipping through the shadows of the massive house I had been held in. Every corner, every hallway felt like a trap. But Kate knew the way. She led me to a back door, where a car was already waiting.

As I got in, I couldn’t help but look at her.

Was this some kind of trick?

She met my gaze, her expression unreadable. “Don’t thank me,” she said, her voice cold. “Just disappear.”

After escaping, I tracked down Damon, who had somehow survived the ambush that night. He was hiding in a province with his wife, who had miraculously recovered from her illness.

I expected relief when I saw him. Instead, I felt a deep, unsettling fear.

Because standing beside him was someone I never thought I’d see again.

His wife, Lesley.

And I knew exactly who she was.

A hitwoman. One who had been hired to kill me.

I took a shaky step back. “Damon… what the hell is going on?”

Lesley, standing there with calm eyes and a knowing smirk, raised her hands in surrender.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice smooth. “But you don’t need to be afraid.”

I clenched my fists. “Why shouldn’t I be? You were paid to kill me.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “That was a long time ago. Things change.”

I didn’t believe her.

Not until she said something that made my blood run cold.

“I know who killed your parents.”

Everything stopped.

My breath caught in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest.

“You… what?” I whispered.

Lesley’s smirk faded, replaced by something far more serious.

“I know the truth, Zoey. And if you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.

But I needed to know.