Chapter 8
He froze on the spot, his face turning deathly pale in an instant.
The hospital room fell into a terrifying silence.
A nearby doctor explained gently, “The patient underwent anti–cancer treatments in the past, which may have caused lingering effects. Combined with oxygen deprivation from the near–drowning, it’s possible she’s experiencing temporary memory loss.”
“Anti–cancer?!” Damien Corwin suddenly grabbed the doctor by the collar. “What anti–cancer treatment?!”
He turned back to me, his voice trembling. “Callista, it’s me–your husband, Damien
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Corwin!”
I tilted my head and studied him, then suddenly let out a small laugh. “If you’re my husband, then why…”
My eyes drifted toward the door, to where Delphine Wynter stood holding two children. “…do you have kids with her?”
His face turned several shades of green and white.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stammered, “Because… a year and a half ago, that night, someone drugged me… and she- she walked into the wrong room… It just happened.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Drugged?” I widened my eyes in mock
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surprise. “Mr.Corwin, do you think you’re in a soap opera?”
“Let’s say the first time was an accident.” I held up a finger. “Then what about the second time? You said the first was a year and a half ago, but these kids look like they were just born…”
Alistair Fenwyck chimed in smoothly, “Seems like the effects of that drug lasted quite a while, Mr.Corwin.”
Damien’s face twisted in shame and fury. Delphine Wynter stood trembling at the door. “I–I was just there to clean the guest room…
“Cleaning the guest room in the middle of the night?” I sneered. “With that IQ, how did you even become a CEO?”
“You two really are something. One dares to
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lie, the other dares to believe it.”
I wrapped it up neatly. “So no, you’re not my husband. My husband wouldn’t sleep with another woman–not once, and certainly not twice.”
I turned to Alistair Fenwyck. “He is my husband.”
Alistair finally couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing.
Damien looked like he’d been sucker. punched, stumbling back a few steps, his face an ugly shade of gray.
Suddenly, he raised his voice and pointed at Alistair. “You bastard! I knew it! This is all your doing! You drugged me, didn’t you?! You’ve always been in love with Callista! You wanted to destroy us! You set it all up, didn’t
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you?!”
Alistair straightened, his tone cold. “Are you insane? I wouldn’t lower myself to do something so disgusting.”
I rubbed my temples. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.”
Damien Corwin and Delphine Wynter were dragged out of the room by security.
After I was discharged, I began planning my wedding with Alistair Fenwyck.
When I finally said the words “I’m willing to marry you,” this man, usually so composed and ruthless in the business world, suddenly looked like a flustered teenager.
He clutched my hand tightly, his voice shaking. “I… I’ll give you the grandest
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wedding imaginable. I want the whole world to know you’re my wife.”
Damien Corwin came to see me a few more times. Each time, Alistair treated it like a full–blown crisis.
“What’s wrong?” I teased him. “Afraid I’ll run back to him?”
“He said,” Alistair’s voice turned painfully dry, “he’s willing to give up everything. If you go. back, he’ll even get rid of the two kids.”
I flipped lazily through a bridal catalog. “I don’t take back what’s been tainted.”
Damien was turned away at the door again and again.
Then one day, he returned home in a daze- only to hear voices coming from the
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bedroom.
“Hurry up! Damien might come back any minute!” It was Delphine Wynter’s voice.
“So what? Word is he’s been running to that woman every day. He doesn’t even care about you anymore,” said a man’s voice–her cousin’s.
“I’ve been starving for ages,” the man sneered. “Better make it worth my while.”
Delphine’s voice was filled with venom. “That bitch. I told you to arrange someone to take her out, but the damn Alistair saved her. How is she so lucky?”
“You even had someone spike her food when she was living in the mountains, trying to give her stomach cancer–yet she survived. Unbelievable.”
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“You’re supposed to be smart–got yourself pregnant and all. Can’t you figure out how to drug him again?”
The room filled with filthy laughter and sleazy banter.
Damien’s fists clenched. He motioned to the bodyguards behind him.
A group of bodyguards stormed the room, dragging out the two naked bodies and pinning them to the floor.
Delphine screamed, “Damien! Damien, I was forced!”
The man beside her spat, “Bullshit! You seduced me! Said you were desperate because Mr.Corwin wouldn’t touch you!”
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Before he could say another word, his leg was broken with a sickening crack.
Delphine tried to speak again–but a cloth was shoved over her mouth and nose, and she slumped unconscious.
Damien had her committed to a psychiatric hospital under strict watch.
On the day of the wedding, he stood outside the venue, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Callista! Are you really leaving me? Do you really not remember me?!”
I sent someone out with a message for him.”What you did crossed every line I had. Maybe the old me loved you enough to tolerate it. But the woman I am now–never will.”
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Inside the hall, Alistair Fenwyck gently slid the ring onto my finger.
Outside, Damien Corwin fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
I later heard he never married again. He spent the rest of his life raising those two children… and slowly faded away, consumed by regret.
As for me and Alistair Fenwyck–despite what every doctor said about me never being able to conceive–against all odds, I gave birth to a daughter.
One quiet afternoon, while I was playing with her in the sunlit garden, Alistair wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“Callista,” he murmured by my ear, “your acting back then was incredible. Even
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I almost believed you’d really lost your memory.“”
I smiled without saying a word, my gaze drifting to the window.
Beyond it, there was no longer any trace of Damien Corwin.
Our daughter ran toward me, giggling and full of life.
[The End]
Book 2:
My husband’s childhood sweetheart was pregnant.
He held the paternity report in trembling hands, his voice full of guilt:
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“Eloise, I’m sorry… the baby is Penelope’s. And it’s mine.”
“That night during the party at home, someone drugged me. Penelope noticed something was off and tried to take care of me, but… I lost control and did something I never should have. It only happened once. We thought it was just a mistake. But then… this.”
I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, laughing bitterly as tears streamed down my face.
Right there on the dimly lit screen was a video of Drake and Penelope–caught in the act, inside a church no less.
If I hadn’t received that anonymous video five minutes ago, I might’ve actually believed it was just one mistake in our five–year
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so–called loving marriage.
Drake gently wiped my tears, his voice full of fake tenderness:
“Don’t cry, Eloise. Nothing has to change. Penelope already agreed–once the baby’s born, we’ll put your name on the birth certificate. She’ll move overseas, and it won’t affect us. You’ve always hated pain, remember? Now you can have a child without going through labor. Isn’t that… a good thing?”
“Penelope can’t have any stress. I don’t trust the maids, so… don’t go to work for the next few months. Stay home. Take care of her. We owe her that much.”
I felt so sick I nearly vomited.
“We’re getting a divorce.”
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He sighed and reached out to pat my head like I was a child throwing a tantrum.
“Don’t be dramatic, Eloise.”
I slapped his hand away and turned to leave, already dialing the number of his biggest rival.
“About that partnership you mentioned–I’m in.”
At that exact moment, a new message popped up from my billionaire father.
“Divorce him and come home. You’ll inherit everything. In seven days, I’ll announce your return at the gala.”
