Chapter 2
Elena's POV
Sunlight filtered through heavy silk curtains as I slowly opened my eyes.
The ceiling featured exquisite classical carvings, surrounded by luxurious antique furniture and paintings. Where... was I?
I tried to sit up, but dull pain throbbed through my head. Memories came in shattered fragments, impossible to piece together into a complete picture.
"You're finally awake, my love."
A deep, magnetic voice came from beside the bed. I turned to see a man sitting in a chair, his profound black eyes gazing at me tenderly.
Those eyes... so familiar.
He had perfect Italian features, light stubble on his jaw, and an expensive white shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing his solid chest. He radiated dangerous, lethal charm.
"Who... who are you?" My voice was hoarse.
Pain flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by tenderness. "I'm Vincenzo, Vincenzo Romano. Your fiancé."
Fiancé? I stared at his face, desperately searching my mind for related memories, finding only emptiness. Yet somehow, looking into his eyes made my heart race inexplicably.
"I... I can't remember." I shook my head hard, tears sliding down stubbornly. "I can't remember ANYTHING!"
Vincenzo immediately stood, sitting on the bed edge to gently stroke my cheek. "Don't cry, baby. The doctor said you suffered head trauma—temporary amnesia is normal. Your memory will return gradually."
His touch sent electric currents through me, making my body tremble uncontrollably. This reaction only increased my confusion.
"Are we... really engaged?"
"Of course." He pulled out a massive diamond ring from his pocket, gently sliding it onto my ring finger. "This is our engagement ring."
The diamond sparkled in the sunlight, but I had no memory of it whatsoever.
Three days later, Manor bathroom
"I can manage myself." I clutched my bathrobe tightly, blocking Vincenzo from entering the bathroom.
"The doctor said you need care. Let me." He pushed past me decisively, starting to run water and adjust the temperature.
"But..." My cheeks burned. "This is too embarrassing."
Vincenzo turned around. "Elena, you're my fiancée. Taking care of you is my right AND my obligation."
He slowly untied my bathrobe, the fabric sliding to the floor. I instinctively tried to cover myself, but he gently yet firmly stopped me.
"Don't be shy, baby. I've seen every inch of your body." His voice was husky, dangerous fire igniting in his eyes.
Warm water enveloped my body as Vincenzo's hands caressed my skin. Every touch made my body react strangely—racing heart, rapid breathing, intimate areas growing hot and wet.
"Why..." I bit my lip, looking at him in confusion. "Why does my body react this way?"
He paused, gazing deeply into my eyes. "Because your body remembers me, even if your mind has forgotten. Our love runs bone-deep, Elena."
He pressed his palm against my heart. "Feel that? It's beating for me."
Indeed, my heart pounded as if trying to escape my chest. This feeling was both terrifying and intoxicating.
Over the following days, Vincenzo controlled every aspect of my life.
Mornings, he personally selected my clothes—always white dresses.
"You look most beautiful in white," he'd say, his eyes filled with obsessive possession.
At meals, he tasted every bite of my food first, ensuring it was safe.
"I can't lose you, Elena. NEVER."
Nights, he insisted I sleep in his arms.
"You have nightmares. You can only sleep peacefully with me beside you."
Initially I resisted, but somehow I did sleep more soundly in his embrace. His warmth, his heartbeat, even his breathing gave me unprecedented security.
This contradictory feeling confused me more each day. I should fear this control, but why did something deep inside crave more?
One month later, Manor living room
While enjoying afternoon sunshine in the garden, a woman suddenly appeared.
She had curly blonde hair, wore an expensive red suit, and radiated aristocratic elegance. But her gaze toward me was filled with hostility.
"So this is the famous Elena?" She looked me up and down contemptuously. "Doesn't look like much."
I instinctively stepped back. "You are...?"
"Isabella Torrino." She lifted her chin arrogantly. "Vincenzo's ex-girlfriend, and the woman who knows him best."
Ex-girlfriend? Inexplicable fury burned in my chest. Why would I feel such intense hostility toward a stranger?
"Elena's here." Vincenzo's deep voice came from behind me.
I turned to see his expression had turned ice-cold.
"Isabella, I thought we made ourselves CRYSTAL clear." He moved to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Elena is my fiancée."
"Fiancée?" Isabella laughed lightly. "Vincenzo, surely you haven't actually fallen for this woman? She's just a replacement."
Replacement? I looked at Vincenzo, unease rising in my chest.
Vincenzo's arm tightened, pulling me closer. "Isabella, leave my manor immediately. Elena isn't anyone's replacement—she's MY chosen woman, my ONLY woman."
"HA!" Isabella sneered. "When she recovers her memory, you'll realize how FOOLISH you've been."
She turned and left, her high heels clicking against the ground as the sound faded.
I looked up at Vincenzo, searching his eyes for answers. "What did she mean? About recovering memory?"
Vincenzo bent down to kiss my forehead. "Don't mind her words, baby. You only need to know that no matter what happens, I'll never let you leave me."
But Isabella's words took root like seeds in my mind. Replacement... recover memory... these phrases filled me with vague dread.
That night, lying in Vincenzo's embrace, I stared at the ceiling as blurry fragments flashed through my mind—a rainy night, gunshots, and familiar black eyes filled with... pain?
The feeling was too strange.
I wanted to grasp these memories, to see them more clearly, but whenever I tried to remember, piercing headaches struck like needles, forcing me to give up.
"Vincenzo..." I called softly.
"Mmm?" He answered in the darkness, voice heavy with sleep.
"Did we... truly love each other before?"
His body stiffened momentarily, then he held me tighter. "Yes, Elena. We love each other deeply."
But somehow, I felt he was hiding something important.
