Chapter 2
Ethan whisked me away.
He did it with such absolute dominance, like he owned the place.
Alex had tried to intervene, but before he could even close half the distance, two figures in black suits had restrained him.
"Ethan! Hand Grace over! She's my fiancée!" Alex was yelling his lungs out behind me, his voice raw with desperation.
However, Alex's roar echoed uselessly behind us. Ethan didn't pause. He merely turned his head, his gaze cold enough to wither stone.
"Mr. Stone, I suggest you get yourself a lawyer—someone who can explain the crime of bigamy to you," Ethan said, his voice icy.
A brief, deliberate pause. "And the consequences of slandering my wife."
With that, he scooped me up in his arms—no hesitation, just pure dominance—and, with everyone staring in disbelief, deposited me into the black Bentley parked right outside the hospital.
The door slammed shut, sealing us off from all the chaos behind.
I leaned back against the buttery-soft leather seat, my heart still racing out of control.
That was thrilling. Absolutely thrilling.
Alex's horrified expression—seriously, I could replay that image in my head for a whole year and never get bored.
The car was huge and dead quiet.
Ethan sat beside me, eyes closed as if resting.
The force of his presence had condensed into a silent, razor-edged stillness. In repose, every line of his face seemed pared down to a blade's edge.
I stole a few sneaky glances at him, trying not to get caught.
Ever since earlier, something just felt seriously off.
Why was Ethan helping me? Weren't we sworn enemies?
And when did the ring end up on my finger?
I remembered nothing. Had something happened while I was unconscious?
"Do I look good?" Ethan's icy voice suddenly broke the silence, making me jump.
Only then did I realize he'd opened his eyes without me noticing, watching me with a subtle, enigmatic smile.
My cheeks burned, and I quickly looked away, slipping right back into my act.
I hugged my knees, curled up in the corner, and looked at him with a timid, almost needy gaze—like a lost puppy.
"Are... are you really my husband? I can't remember anything... My head really hurts," I muttered, barely audible.
Ethan arched an eyebrow, leaned in, closing the distance between us. His presence felt almost suffocating.
His eyes were so intense, I felt like I could get lost in them.
"Doc said you took a hit to the head—mild concussion. That's probably why you can't remember anything right now." His voice was steady, giving nothing away.
"It's okay if you can't remember. I'll tell you everything, bit by bit," Ethan added.
As he spoke, he reached out, as if to touch my head.
I instinctively flinched back.
His hand froze in mid-air for a second, then he pulled it back as if nothing had happened.
A faint awkwardness lingered in the quiet space between us.
My stomach was in knots.
Did he see through my act? Nah, no way. Even I was buying my own performance at this point.
"So... where do we live?" I asked, barely above a whisper, trying to break the awkward silence.
"My villa," Ethan replied, his tone cool and steady.
"So... what did I do before?" I asked.
"You were the future heir of Jennings Holdings," Ethan replied.
"So... how did we meet?"
The moment I asked, I wanted to take it back.
Talk about picking the worst possible topic.
Everyone in the city knew the Jennings and Lewis families were rivals—Ethan and I, forever at odds.
How would he possibly explain this?
Ethan paused, silent for a beat.
I swallowed nervously, my heart pounding.
Then, low and deliberate, he answered, "We got married for business.
"Your family's company was about to go under, so your dad sold you off to me."
I nearly choked, about to drop my whole "amnesia girl" act and go full savage right then and there.
Our company was perfectly stable! His was the one circling the drain!
That bastard—lying through his teeth while I was "amnesiac"!
But I had to bite my tongue.
Gotta keep up my innocent amnesia girl act—no way I could let it slip now.
So I looked up at him with teary eyes, all pitiful and wronged.
"So... that's how it is? Does that mean... you don't like me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
Ethan stared at me, his gaze impossible to read.
"Whether I like you or not isn't the point. What matters is, you're my wife now, Mrs. Lewis. And that's never going to change," he said, his voice cool and matter-of-fact.
His words were final—no room for doubt, no room for argument.
For some reason, I could hear a hint of barely contained frustration in his voice.
The car soon pulled into a luxury gated community and stopped in front of a modern minimalist villa.
Ethan led me out of the car.
The butler and staff were already lined up neatly at the entrance, waiting for us. "Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis."
The whole welcoming committee had me feeling a bit out of it.
Ethan led me into the living room, where a family doctor in a white coat came right over.
"Mr. Lewis, how's Mrs. Lewis doing?" the doctor asked.
"Temporary amnesia," Ethan replied, his tone clipped and to the point.
The doctor nodded, then turned to me with a gentle, reassuring look.
"Mrs. Lewis, don't worry. It's just temporary. Get some rest, and you'll start remembering things soon," he said gently.
I nodded sweetly, but inside, I was scoffing.
Remember? As if No way in hell.
Not until Alex and Olivia had paid what they owed. This "amnesia" of mine wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Ethan told the staff to escort me upstairs so I could rest.
The bedroom was on the second floor—huge, and decorated exactly the way I liked: simple, warm, and inviting.
The walk-in closet was lined with all the latest styles for the season, every single piece in my size.
On the vanity, all my usual skincare stuff was laid out, not a single thing missing.
Everything was so real, it was almost freaky.
It was like I'd actually been living here for ages.
What was Ethan really up to? He'd set all this up for me, and even went along with that whole act. What was his angle?
Was he just here to watch my family make fools of ourselves? Or was there something bigger he was after?
My thoughts were all over the place until a maid showed up with a cup of milk.
"Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Lewis said you should have this. It'll help you sleep," she said softly.
I took the milk with a murmured thanks.
As I was lying in the soft embrace of the bed, sleep felt miles away.
I reached for my phone and powered it on.
A flood of missed calls and messages poured in.
There were some from my parents, a few from friends, but the majority were from Alex.
[Grace, where are you? Get back here!]
[Don't hang around that psycho Ethan. He'll mess you up!]
[I know you're still mad at me, but you can't just throw your whole happily ever after away like this!]
[Grace, I'm ordering you—get your ass back here, right now!]
As I looked at those messages, all I could do was laugh at the irony.
My lifelong happiness had shattered into pieces the moment they pushed me down those stairs.
I let out a cold laugh and blocked Alex's number—no hesitation, just pure satisfaction.
Next, I pulled up my chat with Olivia.
Her last message was sent while I was still unconscious.
[Grace, are you awake yet? I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean it. Please don't blame Alex, he was just panicked...]
Hypocritical and disgusting.
With icy precision, I typed out my reply, letter by letter: [Who are you?]
After hitting send, I shut off my phone and stretched out on the bed, trying to sleep.
The game was just getting started.
I'd be watching how long those two shameless scumbags could keep up this farce.