Meera’s POV The morning comes with a flurry of clanging utensils, screaming cooks, and scared and nimble waitstaff making their way in and out of the grand kitchen of Alejandro’s penthouse as the charity gala— for lord knows what— commences in full swing out on the expansive terrace and pool area attached to the living space of this outrageously luxurious home. “Girl! One of the waitresses twisted her ankle and spilled champagne on one of the guests! Go clean up after her!” Marta— the head chef of Alejandro’s kitchen pushes a wiping rag in my hands— the sheer quality of the cloth making me wince. Nodding my head, I take the cloth from her and the wiper that Jo, one of the cleaners hands me, and make my way outside. If Alejandro wants me to be his maid, his secretary, his cleaning lady, then that is what he will get. And for now, I just have to hold on until I can manage to escape again. Even though I know just how unlikely that is. I keep my head down as I enter the swarm of wel

Meera's POV I hurtle into the nearest powder room that I can find, bursting through the door I allow the contents of my tray to go crashing down onto the floor before slamming the door shut as my tears start streaming down my face as I rush towards the toilet, attempting to hurl up anything that might be in my stomach. Nothing comes out. That figures since the last meal I had was two days ago. I slide down to the ground, resting my head against the wall as I try to swallow the taste of sheer disgust and horrifying disdain that I can still feel from the phantom sensation of Ace's hands grabbing at my body right in front of that...that monster...that demon who was looking at me with such hungry eyes since the moment I stepped into that damn room. I cannot believe the level of utter disrespect and cruelty that Ace has stooped to and I wonder where I went so wrong in the three years that I was married to him. I mean...even in those initial days when he didn't know me well enough, he

|Ace’s POV|Her blood stains the front of my white shirt. My shivering hands clench and relax while my knee bounces sitting outside the operation theatre where Meera’s injuries are being looked over. I cannot believe I have brought her to this. Not two days have fully passes since I entered her life again, and she is already fighting for it because of me. Serena has gone too far this time and when I called her up after admitting Meera into the hospital, there was not a single tinge of remorse in Serena’s voice. |Flashback| “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE, SERENA?” I growled into the phone, the nurses and the patients passing me by looked at me with concerned and fearful glances as I turned my face to the wall while keeping the phone against my ear, waiting for her response. “Awwh, sweetheart, did you finally find your little bird?” She asks before her voice drops into feigned pity, “I hope you weren’t too late, she was rather too injured when I left her, and if you managed to find h

|Ace’s POV| “How is this possible?” I urge the doctor to reply in a hushed manner as I stand just outside of the room where Meera is currently napping. She believes that we are currently 2 years in the past, just before everything went to hell. The doctor turns his head to look inside from the panelled window in the wall of her room and sighs, “Mr. Harrington your wife received severe trauma to the head. And from the kind of wound that has been inflicted upon her, it is quite possible for the patient’s memory to be altered. And earlier on you were too…erratic…for me to ask this question, but dare I know what exactly happened to Mrs. Harrington?” He asks with a fearful expression on his face before asking, “you wouldn’t happen to be the cause behind this…would you, Mr. Harrington?” I feel shame overtaking my expressions as I realise how easy it is for anyone to believe that I am the one behind the bruises on Meera’s body. And in reality, I actually am. I am the cause behind al

|Ace’s POV| |Flashback, 1.5 Years Ago contd.|“You what?” I growl, my words seething with nothing but rage as I glare at her with all the hatred in the world. This cannot be possible. She cannot have been the one who killed my parents. “It’s true.” She says lightly as if talking about what dress to wear to her next brunch, “your father begged me to save your mother’s life, to kill him and be done with it when he realised that he had been bested, but oh, the pure satisfaction of life draining out of your mother’s eyes when I strangled her. When I made sure to kill her slowly and painfully, knowing well enough that all the blame was going to go on Meera’s family and no one was ever going to doubt me.” My entire body freezes before anger overtakes me and I don’t think for even a second before loading my gun and pulling the trigger. But nothing happens. The bullet doesn’t fly out of the barrel of my gun as I gape at it before pulling the trigger once again. Nothing happens again.