CHAPTER 1 #2
Amara blinked slowly, trying to process the words. Her fingers tightened around the hospital blanket. Then her eyes moved back to Rafael. This time with visible uncertainty. Almost fear.
“Who…” Her throat bobbed. “Who are you?”
Rafael forgot how to breathe. His lips parted. Closed. Opened again. But no words came.
Because for the first time in his life, the man who could command armies, didn’t know how to introduce himself, to the woman who had once called him home.
“…Who are you?” She spoke again.
For a moment, he thought he hadn’t heard her right. That maybe his mind was twisting reality into something cruel. But the way she looked at him told him everything.
His throat went dry as his gaze flickered toward the doctor, silently asking for an explanation he wasn’t ready to hear. “I’m Rafael De Luca.” Even saying his own name felt strange. “…your husband.”
The word husband echoed in the space between them.
But it meant nothing to her.
Amara frowned slightly, her eyes drifting past him, scanning the unfamiliar room, the machines, the white walls, the quiet hum of a place that smelled like antiseptic and survival.
“Where am I?”
No recognition.
No memory.
No him.
Rafael’s chest tightened painfully.
He had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for her to wake up. To tell him everything. To scream. To cry. To remember. But instead, she looked like a child lost in a world she didn’t belong to.
And worse, she looked… afraid.
The doctor stepped in, voice calm but cautious. “It’s a complicated case, Mr. Luca.”
Rafael didn’t look at him. His eyes were still locked on her. “Given the severity of her head injury, we suspected neurological complications, but we couldn’t assess the extent until she regained consciousness.”
The doctor exhaled slowly. “Now it’s clearer. The concussion… along with the trauma… has affected her memory.”
Rafael finally turned, his jaw tightening. “…Affected how?”
The doctor hesitated. That hesitation alone made Rafael’s blood run cold.
“From her reaction… she doesn’t seem to recognize familiar faces. Not you. Not the environment. And based on her current emotional state it’s likely she doesn’t remember the events leading to her injury either.”
Rafael’s brows furrowed. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Even with retrograde amnesia, recent memories are usually affected first. Older ones stay intact longer.”
His eyes darkened. “She should remember something.”
The doctor sighed, rubbing his temple. “This may not be purely retrograde amnesia.”
“It’s likely dissociative amnesia.”
Rafael went still. The doctor continued carefully.
“It happens when the brain blocks out traumatic memories as a defense mechanism. Not just events… but sometimes people associated with that trauma.” Rafael’s heartbeat slowed.
“So you’re saying…” His voice dropped. “…she forgot because she chose to?”
“Not consciously,” the doctor corrected quickly. “Her mind is protecting her. If the people or situations in her past caused her severe psychological distress, her brain may have isolated and suppressed those memories entirely.”
Rafael swallowed.
“If she encounters those people again… she might not recognize them. But subconsciously—there could still be a response. Fear. Discomfort. Even avoidance.”
Rafael’s gaze drifted back to the glass window. To Amara.
She was sitting there quietly. Her fingers twisting the bedsheet slightly as she looked around, curiosity laced with unease.
Just a month ago… she was his wife. And now, she was nothing. A stranger nonetheless. Wasn’t this what he wanted? For her to forget him? To erase the forced marriage? To walk away clean?
Then why did it feel like something inside him was being ripped apart.
“So when will she recover?” His voice came quieter now. He watched Amara looking down at the bandages. “Is there a chance her memory will return?”
The doctor hesitated again. “That’s unpredictable. The brain doesn’t follow timelines when it comes to trauma. It could take weeks… months… or…”
Rafael’s lips parted slightly. “…or never.”
The doctor said nothing.
Rafael nodded faintly, though nothing about him felt steady.
“So…” He exhaled shakily. “She’s a blank canvas now?”
The doctor adjusted his glasses. “It depends on what her mind chooses to hold on to.”
It felt like her mind had chosen a world… without him in it.
Doctor hesitated for a second before speaking again. “There’s something else too.”
Rafael raised his brow. Doctor looked down at the file, adjusted his glasses and motioned Rafael to follow him out. Unable to take this new information, Rafael stepped out the room. Running his hand through his hair.
“What is wrong with her?”
The doctor inhaled deeply.
“There are… things I didn’t disclose earlier. We were waiting for her to regain consciousness first.”
He motioned for a nurse. A blue file was placed into his hands. Rafael watched. Every second stretching thinner. Until it snapped.
“I’ll be direct, Mr. Luca.” The doctor opened the file. “The condition in which she was brought in… was critical. You’re aware of that.”
“But aside from the physical injuries…there were indications of repeated sexual assault.”
Rafael thought he misheard. “…What?”
The doctor swallowed. “The injuries weren’t just recent. There were older signs as well. And based on examination… the most recent assault likely occurred within twenty-four hours before you brought her here.”
His fist clenched. Then tightened further. Until his knuckles turned white.
“Say that again.” His voice was dangerously quiet.
“You’re her husband. I assumed—”
“I NEVER TOUCHED HER!”
The roar tore out of him before he could stop it.
Before the doctor could react, Rafael had him by the collar. Slamming him against the wall.
“Are you fucking with me?” His grip tightened. “I will kill you if you are.”
The doctor’s eyes widened in pure terror. “I-I’m not lying! You can check the reports yourself—please—!”
Rafael released him abruptly. Like he had burned his hands.
He staggered back a step, dragging a hand through his hair, his breathing uneven—too fast, too sharp.
In his house.
Under his roof.
Someone had…
His vision blurred red.
Rage.
Guilt.
Disgust.
All colliding at once.
“Fuck…”
He should have seen it.
He should have known.
He should have protected her.
His chest tightened painfully.
“And… the amnesia…” His voice faltered for the first time. “…that’s real?”
The doctor nodded cautiously, still shaken. “Yes.”
Rafael let out a shaky breath. One that felt like it tore something inside him on its way out.
His world was collapsing. And he had no idea where to start fixing it.
The doctor slowly flipped another page in the file. “There’s… more. But we’re not sure yet. I’ll let you know once reports come.”
His chest rose sharply as doctor move back into the room.
Rafael De Luca looked afraid. Because he understood now. Amara hadn’t just been hurt. She had been hunted. While he, the man who was supposed to protect her had slept peacefully.
Believing his walls kept danger out. When all along… the danger had been living inside.
His breathing turned uneven. His hands shook violently as he dragged them through his hair.
Even if she healed… even if she remembered… even if she smiled again, he couldn’t take her back there. If someone from inside had been violating her, they’d try again. They’d know. She’d be oion danger there. But moving out, leaving the estate was impossible.
Not until the throne was his.
Not until his father was dead.
Not until the underworld finally bowed to him.
That could take months.
Maybe longer.
Rafael closed his eyes.
There was only one option left. The one man he swore he’d never ask. The one debt he never wanted to owe. The one bastard he’d spent months avoiding.
Slowly, Rafael reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone. His bloodied thumb hovered over the contact. For a second, his pride fought him.
Then he thought of Amara again. And pride became meaningless.
He pressed call.
One ring.
His jaw tightened.
Two rings.
His fingers curled tighter around the phone.
Three.
A deep, lazy voice answered. “Well…” A low chuckle. “To what do I owe this miracle?”
Rafael shut his eyes briefly. Swallowed every ounce of pride he had left. “I need a favor.”
On the other side of the line, a chair scraped against the floor. And a familiar laugh echoed through the speaker. “Well, brother…” The man drawled. “This…” Sound of gun fire hit him before the man muttered darkly. “…should be interesting.”
Rafael shut his eyes for half a second. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to hang up. To deal with this alone. To be Rafael De Luca, the man who needed no one.
“I need… a place to stay.”
There was complete silence. Not even breathing on the other end. Rafael swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Admitting it out loud, actually hearing the words leave his mouth, made it real.
Made him realize just how far things had spiraled. “There’s… a situation.”
His fingers tightened around the phone. His knuckles whitening. “I’ll explain later.”
Rafael forced the words out. “For a few months…” His jaw flexed. “…I need you to keep Amara safe.”
And just like that, the world on the other end went dead silent. Rafael stared through the glass window at Amara, watching her tilt her head slightly as a nurse handed her a glass of water—like a curious child trying to understand a world she no longer recognized.
His chest twisted. He knew what was coming.
Knew Kaelith would question him. Mock him.
Maybe even refuse. And still, he waited.
Because for the first time in his life, Rafael wasn’t calling as a rival.
Or as a brother. Or as a man too proud to bend.
He was calling as someone desperate. As someone who had run out of options.
When Kaelith spoke again, Rafael felt the temperature around him drop. The man’s voice had changed. “What…” Dangerously quiet. “…happened to her?”
Rafael’s throat tightened. His eyes remained fixed on Amara. A slow breath left him. “Before I tell you…” His voice cracked slightly, though he hated that it did. “Promise me.” His grip on the phone tightened until his healing cuts reopened.
A thin line of blood slid down his knuckles. And Rafael barely felt it. “Promise me…” His eyes darkened. “…that no matter what you hear, you’ll protect her.”
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