TROY The minutes dragged on like hours as we sat in the car, our hands intertwined. Her fingers trembled slightly in mine before she finally pulled away, turning her face to the window. There was something about that gesture—a quiet surrender—that tugged at my chest. I cleared my throat, breaking the silence. "So… what now?" She didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on something distant, lost in a world of thoughts that I wasn’t privy to. Her silence felt like an unspoken wall between us, one that had been slowly growing since the day she regained her memories. "What’s in the teddy?" I asked, the question slipping out as I realized she wouldn’t have risked so much for something with just sentimental value. Her response was as cold as ever. "It’s none of your business." Her gaze remained distant, walls still firmly in place. "Can you take me home? I'm pretty sure that since you followed me to my old house and even brought me here, you already know where I live now." I nodded, tryin
MARIANNE “What’s your plan for Britney?” Troy asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place. I sighed softly. “We’ll both find out tomorrow, I suppose.” He rolled his eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You’re too secretive for your own good, Aislinn.” A silence fell between us, thick with unsaid words. After a few moments, I excused myself and retreated to my room. I needed to make a phone call, one I’d been dreading yet longing to make. My godfather answered after a few rings, and I asked for something I desperately needed. When the call ended, I stepped back into the living room, where Troy was lounging in my chair, his head resting casually on the armrest. He looked so at ease, as if he belonged there. “You should leave,” I said, my voice harder than I intended. He lifted his head and studied me for a long moment, eyes narrowing slightly before he shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not happening. I’ll leave when I’m convinced y
MARIANNE For some reason, Troy's action, stirred something in me. It was a fleeting warmth, one I quickly suppressed. I had no time for such feelings. Once inside the bank, I was led to the vault—a cold, sterile space filled with rows of metal safe deposit boxes. I stared at the key in my hand, running my fingers over the engraved numbers before matching it to its box. The metallic sound of the lock turning echoed in the stillness. I opened it, revealing the documents I needed. I carefully retrieved the papers and a flash drive, taking a moment to register the weight of what I was holding. This was my legacy—my father’s legacy—secured away from the hands of those who had betrayed me. Without delay, I left the bank and drove to the courier company. My godfather’s parcel had arrived, and I was desperate to get it. But as fate would have it, the company had already closed for the day. The frustration clawed at me, yet there was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to head home,
MARIANNETroy seemed stunned for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile. "You’re something else, you know that?" "I’ll take that as a compliment," I replied, focusing on the syringe in my hand. "But please, slow down a little." Troy eased off the gas but kept glancing my way as I prepared the injection. "Eyes on the road, Troy," I warned when another car nearly grazed ours. With a frustrated sigh, he pulled over to the side of the road. "Where did you learn how to do that? You part of some secret criminal organization?" I scoffed without sparing him a glance, "Seriously? If you are going to harbour such thoughts about me Troy, then it's best for you to stay away until I'm done with my revenge. I never asked for your help in the first place." "Is that why you’re being rude to me right now?" His tone was clipped, obviously offended. I stopped what I was doing and turned to face him. Seeing the look on his face, I sighed. "I didn’t mean to be rude, Troy. It's just
MARIANNE I quickly dashed toward the door, slipping my mask back over my face and tucking the syringe into Troy’s pocket. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to stay calm. We moved in sync, walking out of the ward together. As we took a few steps away, I heard the faint sound of footsteps. The doctor was entering Britney’s room. Troy leaned close and whispered, "Run." Without hesitation, we bolted down the hallway. Adrenaline surged through my veins, pushing my legs faster. When we reached the room where I’d changed, I glanced at Troy. "Go," I urged, my voice steady. "Wait for me in the car. I’ll be out in a minute." He hesitated, his eyes searching mine for any sign of uncertainty. But he knew me too well by now. Reluctantly, he shrugged off the lab coat and mask, leaving them in a heap before disappearing down the hall. I took a moment to gather myself, stripping off the nurse uniform and replacing it with my own clothes. My fingers trembled as I let my hair
MARIANNE Troy smiled, his gaze sharp and playful. "And I'm supposed to buy that?" I shrugged, keeping my tone even. "It's up to you." I paused before adding, "I need to buy a car. Can you take me?" He raised a brow, curiosity edging into his voice. "Why? Is mine not comfortable enough for you anymore?" I exhaled slowly, not wanting to argue. "What if we have a lot to do and need to go our separate ways? Would you rather I chase after a cab?" Troy sighed, giving a slight nod. "I guess not." Thirty minutes later, I found myself behind the wheel of a sleek gray Acura MDX, the weight of the keys in my hand feeling like a small victory. Before I drove off, I placed a few calls—brands I was familiar with, orders I knew would arrive quickly. I arranged for everything to be delivered to the house within the hour, the efficiency of it soothing something restless in me. I hadn't eaten breakfast, but the thought of food made my stomach turn. Instead, we drove back to the house, Tro
MARIANNE "Why do you want to marry me?" Troy's voice was low, but the intensity in his gaze cut through the air. I tried to ease the tension with a warm smile, though I could sense the gravity behind his question. "Don't get worked up, Troy. It’s only temporary. Once my revenge is complete, we’ll divorce." His expression darkened, frustration flaring up. “The nerve of you,” he snapped, his voice rougher than I expected. “You come up with a ridiculous arrangement like this without even asking me? Without so much as a conversation? What do you take me for, Marianne?” His anger, though justified, stung. I took a deep breath, keeping my voice calm. "You have every right to be upset. Believe me, I’m shaken too by the absurdity of it all. But Troy... if I had brought it up at home, I would’ve gotten cold feet. I’d convince myself there was another way, but there isn’t." I paused, trying to meet his eyes, but he looked away. "This is a marriage of convenience. No strings, no obligat
MARIANNE I stared at Troy in disbelief, the hint of a smile tugging at my lips despite the absurdity of what he’d just suggested. “Seriously? You want me to make her blind?” He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. “What’s the big deal? It's not as if she doesn't deserve it.” I nodded, considering the truth of his words. “That’s not wrong,” I admitted slowly, “but it's extreme, even for me.” My voice softened as I added, “I’ll come up with something just as sinister—but not that. Thanks for the suggestion.” He huffed, clearly dissatisfied. “What’s the point of asking for advice if you don’t intend to use it?” I gave a small, knowing smile. “It’ll come in handy when the time is right, trust me.” Silence followed. We finished our meal in an almost companionable quiet, though the tension between us hummed like an unspoken conversation. When we were done, I insisted on cleaning up. Troy finally relented, letting me take charge of the mundane task. Once the kitchen was spotles
MARIANNE HOURS EARLIER My dream lingered as I woke, the soft voice of a little girl calling me "Mommy" fading into the morning haze. My chest felt tight, as though her voice had reached into the very core of my being and left an imprint I couldn’t erase. I washed my face, staring at my reflection, trying to shake the dream off. The face staring back at me seemed foreign—cold, calculated, and so far removed from the woman I used to be. I had to make a decision. I couldn’t delay anymore. Dr. Raymond was waiting for my answer, and I knew I needed to face him today. But as I dried my face with the towel, a nagging thought struck me. There was something I had ignored earlier—a file I hadn’t bothered to open. Curious, I grabbed my phone and opened it. My brows furrowed as I noticed it was an audio file from Sharon. I pressed play. The voices that came through made me lift my brows. Aislinn. Sharon. I listened intently as Aislinn spoke with venom, her words sharp and deliberat
MARIANNE When I arrived at my old apartment, I paused outside, scanning my surroundings with a cautious eye. The air felt heavy, as if it carried an unspoken warning. It was still my house though. With a deep breath, I approached the keypad, and entered the code. As the door clicked open, I stepped into silence. The house was eerily still, void of the warmth and familiarity it once held. “Sharon?” I called out, my voice echoing in the empty space. No answer. I fished out my phone and dialed her number, only to be met with a dead line. The same number that had called me earlier was suddenly unreachable. I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me that something terrible was about to happen, but not to me. Determined to figure out what was going on, I began searching the house. My steps were quick and purposeful, the creak of the wooden floors beneath me the only sound. As I ascended the stairs two at a time, a faint noise stopped me in my tracks. It was coming from the CCTV room. I
MARIANNE “What!” Doctor Raymond exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and concern. “What are you saying, Marianne? I know you wanted to be a mother before and…” “No,” I interrupted, my voice firm but my heart unsteady. “I am not ready to be a mother. Not right now.” He hesitated, studying my expression before speaking. “I need to tell you something. There’s a high chance you’ll never conceive again.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I kept my composure. I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “Okay, I can live with that. There are so many motherless children out there who need someone to look after them. When I’m ready to be a mother, I’ll fill that gap. I’ll adopt a few children and love them as my own.” “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Yes,” I replied, but the resolve in my voice didn’t match the storm brewing inside me. He sighed deeply, almost as if he could sense my inner turmoil. “Alright, if you’ve mad
MARIANNE After Aislinn left, I got into my car and sat there, the echo of her words swirling in my mind, tightening the knot of anger in my chest. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the steering wheel."I can't let Troy stay in my house anymore," I muttered, the words barely audible over the roar of my emotions. "He's out. Tonight."I started the car and drove towards my apartment on the outskirts of town, my jaw clenched and my heart pounding against my ribs. Every mile I covered only amplified my frustration. When I finally pulled into the driveway, his car wasn’t there.The silence when I stepped inside was deafening, but his presence lingered. His cologne still clung to the air, an irritating reminder of him. I sighed heavily and sank into the living room couch, my mind spiraling back to Aislinn’s threats."Interesting, Aislinn," I murmured with a bitter smile. "Don’t you just love to talk? Let’s see how much you’ll love it when you can’t hear or speak anymore."The thought
SHARON As I watched everything unfold before me, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction. Every detail had fallen into place, every move executed flawlessly. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to exhale deeply. My job was done, and it had gone exactly as planned. Yet, as the euphoria faded, unease crept in, wrapping around me like an unwelcome shadow. The discovery hit me like a lightning bolt: the woman I had loyally called Aislinn, my enigmatic boss, was none other than Marianne. The very same Marianne she had claimed was her late sister. At first, I dismissed the similarities as coincidence. But then, little things began to stand out—the way she spoke about her “sister,” often slipping into first person as if she were Marianne, the way her eyes gleamed with a depth of knowledge only someone who had lived through such betrayal could possess. And now, looking at her partially obscured face, there was no denying the truth. Marianne had survived. She had retur
MARIANNE “This court finds the accused, Mr. Tony Vane, guilty of four counts of complicity in perjury, unlawful imprisonment leading to death, attempted murder, and embezzlement of company funds, and sentences him to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” “The court also finds the accused, Mrs. Britney Vane, guilty of five counts of kidnapping, bestickning and hot, bribery, Perjury, and unlawful imprisonment leading to death, and sentences her to life imprisonment with hard labor in the Norwegian island prison.” As I listened to the judge’s final verdict, I exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh of relief escaping my lips. It was over. Tony, Britney, and Mildred had been brought to justice. Mildred received eight years in prison for perjury and complicity in embezzlement, which I believed was adequate punishment. Yet, as the gavel struck, signaling the conclusion, an unexpected emptiness welled up inside me. This was everything I had fought for—justice for my
TROY The sharp sting of Marianne’s slap echoed through the courtroom and reverberated deep in my chest. My hand instinctively flew to my cheek, as if trying to confirm what had just happened. I stared at her in stunned silence, my breath caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “How dare you touch me!” she spat, her voice laced with anger and an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “What happened to you?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. She met my gaze, her eyes like ice, sharp and unyielding. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Stay away from me and anything that has to do with me.” Her words hit harder than the slap. There was a cold finality to her tone that made my stomach twist. “Initially, I thought of sending you the divorce papers,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling at the edges, “but then it occurred to me that I married you as Aislinn. Everything—the identity I used—was a fake one. Hence, there’s no need for a divorce. You can go be with your A
TROY As the days dragged on painfully, I remained rooted at Marianne's apartment, unwilling to leave, despite her absence. I kept hoping she would return, but day after day passed—one, two, three days, then four—and still, there was no sign of her. The empty silence grew louder with each passing moment, filling me with a gnawing emptiness. My mind was clouded with fear, frustration, and an ache that wouldn’t let me rest. I searched for her tirelessly, refusing to give up. I went to her company every morning, visited the police station, and scoured every place I thought she might be. I was haunted by her absence, by the need to see her, to know she was safe. And with each fruitless attempt, the weight of despair only grew heavier, crushing my resolve bit by bit. Still, there was no sign of her. My phone chimed occasionally, and each time, my heart would leap with a flicker of hope—only to realize it was another call or message from Aislinn, whose persistence grated on my last ner
TROY I felt a tremor of shock ripple through me at what unfolded before my eyes. The turn of events was staggering, like a tidal wave crashing over my heart. When I first heard a female voice call out to me while I was still in the kitchen, I knew something was wrong. The person certainly didn't sound like Marianne. It was clear now—Aislinn was doing everything possible to provoke Marianne, to disrupt the fragile peace I’d worked so hard to establish. I just wished, more than anything, that Marianne would calm down, take a breath, and allow me a chance to speak. But she was stubborn, fiercely so, and that stubbornness was as much a part of her as the pulse in her veins. I loved her for it, yet sometimes, it drove a wedge between us. I tried to explain, tried to reach her through the wall she’d put up, but it was like trying to catch the wind. Watching her walk away felt like watching my world shatter, as if each step she took was ripping something vital from me. It was like a