Chapter 9

y the time security dragged Kevin out of the room, he had fainted from the sheer stress of it all.

Jenna York, however, was still clinging to her last shred of hope.

Lucas glanced at her, his tone sharp and cutting.

"Miss York, I hear you enjoy spiking drinks?"

Jenna shook her head furiously, terror written all over her face.

Before she could say another word, a guard pressed her firmly down by the shoulders.

Lucas's lips curved into a faint smile as he said, "Call the police. Congratulations, Miss York—your acting career is officially over."

That night, I was a mess—not only emotionally but physically. My knee injury flared up again, and I developed a fever.

On the way to the hospital, I curled up in the corner of the car, refusing to look at Lucas. Not a single word passed between us.

It wasn't until he carried me into the hospital room that I tried to resist, pushing at his chest weakly.

But Lucas held my hands down gently, his voice low and steady.

"Ayla, don't be afraid of me."

And just like that, the floodgates opened.

I couldn't stop myself from trembling.

It wasn't Lucas I was afraid of, nor Kevin.

It was the stark realization that I was utterly powerless in front of either of them.

I was nothing more than an object, something to be fought over and discarded at will.

And maybe, for the rest of my life, I'd have to rely on someone else's pity and generosity just to survive.

Lucas didn't say anything else. He stayed with me until late into the night.

When his assistant quietly knocked on the door, Lucas stood up, put on his coat, and prepared to leave.

Before walking out, he turned back one last time.

"Ayla," he said softly.

"I'm not Kevin. If the day ever comes when you want to leave, I won't stop you."

"I'll always respect your choices."

With that, the door shut quietly behind him.

I buried my face in the hospital blanket, memories flashing through my mind like an old film reel.

The first time I met Kevin was during a college event.

Back then, I was a star student in forensic psychology, known for my sharp memory and exceptional sketching skills.

When the school announced that I'd been selected to represent the graduating class as a keynote speaker, it felt like the culmination of all my hard work.

Kevin, fresh out of college and still a reckless playboy, had been sitting in the audience. He claimed it was love at first sight and began pursuing me relentlessly after that.

No girl could resist the kind of romance a rich heir could offer, and I was no exception.

But when he finally confessed his feelings, I hesitated.

I had plans to study abroad for my master's degree.

Kevin, with his impulsive nature, wasn't the type to handle long-distance relationships.

When I brought it up, he surprised me by saying he understood.

"Before you leave, let me take you out for one last dinner," he'd said.

That night, we were in a car accident.

Because of where I was sitting, I took the brunt of the impact. My injuries were severe, and I was rushed into surgery.

As an orphan, I didn't have any family to call.

When my professors and classmates arrived at the hospital, they found Kevin covered in blood, waiting outside the operating room.

The doctors told him there was a chance I'd never wake up, that I might end up in a vegetative state.

Without hesitation, Kevin said he'd marry me, no matter what.

When I finally woke up, I learned that the accident had damaged my brain.

I couldn't recognize faces anymore.

My once-sharp memory had dulled to the point of being useless.

The professor who had been planning to supervise my graduate studies emailed me, expressing his regret.

"Miss Ayla," he wrote, "prosopagnosia makes it impossible for you to be a criminal profiler."

And just like that, my future was gone.

The bright, promising forensic psychology student was reduced to nothing more than Kevin Gray's girlfriend.

People said I was lucky—that an orphan like me had managed to "marry up" after a car accident.

But only I knew what I'd lost.

Day by day, my wings were clipped.

My ambition, my dignity, my spirit—everything was worn down to nothing.