After the car accident that stole my memories, I often woke up screaming. My fiancé, overwhelmed and needing to manage his business empire, had his identical twin brother take his place to comfort me back to sleep. One night, confused and needy, I clung to the man beside me—cold, elegant, and distant—and tilted my head up for a kiss. He pushed me away without hesitation. "You said you'd help me find my memories," I whispered, my eyes rimmed with red, tears threatening to spill. "Or do you just hate that... I only remember this?" The man gritted his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw, before finally pulling me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. But he took his role too seriously. He carried me around the villa, "searching for memories" in every room. Three days later, sobbing and exhausted, I begged him to stop the "treatment." He just smoothed my hair, his voice gentle but his actions relentless. "Hush now. Think harder." Half a month later, my fiancé returned from overseas and walked in on our "therapy session." His eyes went bloodshot instantly. He exploded. "I never even touched her! How the hell does she have memories of that?!" 1 "What do we do?! Is she... is she still alive?" The woman's voice was shrill with panic. "She's breathing. Don't worry. I'll handle this," the man beside her said, his voice low and steady. "But... she saw us." "It's fine. She listens to me. You need to leave. Now. You were never here today, understand?" I lay on the cold pavement, blood pooling in my mouth, every inch of my body screaming in agony. Through my blurred vision, I saw a pair of high heels and dress shoes just a few feet away. "Julian... help me..." My voice was a broken rasp. It hurt so much. Someone, please save me... 2 I woke up gasping, my back soaked in cold sweat. I reached out to the other side of the bed. It was empty and cold. A while ago, I was in a severe car accident. My fiancé, Julian Sterling, told me it was the work of a business rival he had crushed during his company's expansion. To get back at the Sterling Group, they targeted me, his high-profile fiancée. I survived, but I lost pieces of myself. Pieces of my memory. I didn't remember the accident at all. The doctor said I had a blood clot in my brain. Because of a congenital heart condition, brain surgery was too risky. They suggested conservative treatment, letting the clot dissolve over time. Hearing about my amnesia, Julian’s brow surprisingly smoothed out. He gently assured me that whether I remembered or not, our wedding would proceed as planned. To take better care of me, he moved me into the family estate until our "Wedding of the Century" next month. Lately, the nightmares were relentless. Julian moved his work into the master bedroom, soothing me to sleep every night. So where was he now? I got up and went downstairs for water. Hushed, angry voices drifted from the first floor. "Just for two weeks. You pretend to be me, comfort her until she falls asleep. Once she's out, you're done. Do this, and you can pick any position you want at HQ." "Bro, are you insane?" "She doesn't remember a thing about the crash. But Chloe is still terrified. I need to go to her, make sure she's okay." "Are you even human? Who's your fiancée? If it wasn't for—" "You can say no. I'll kick Sarah out tomorrow, cancel the wedding, and take Chloe abroad." "The doctor said she can't take any more shocks! You already cost her her memory, now you want her life? She loves you..." "What, you got a problem? You like her?" "...Don't be ridiculous. I don't lack women. But she's my future sister-in-law. We grew up together..." "Relax. Mom and Dad only accept Sarah. I'll marry her. But I owe Chloe and the kid an explanation." "If she wasn't so obsessed with you, I'd kill you myself." "Stop acting like a saint, Adrian. Who cleans up your messes? Just play the part. Don't blow my cover." I stood in the shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach, shaking uncontrollably. While they were still arguing, I dragged myself back to the room like a zombie. Curled up under the cold duvet, fragments of that day two weeks ago started piecing themselves together. My heart seized painfully. My head buzzed. I clutched my chest, tears soaking the pillow. No dreams tonight. I remembered everything. 3 The next morning, I got up and washed my face as usual. The butler informed me that the Young Master and the Second Master were having breakfast downstairs. I carefully applied a "no-makeup" makeup look and went down in my silk nightgown. Two tall men sat at the long table, murmuring. They turned simultaneously as I approached. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating them like movie stars. They inherited their supermodel mother's striking features and towering height. It was unfair that the world had two faces this perfect. They were so identical that even their teachers used to mix them up. As they grew older, their personalities diverged, and they dressed differently to avoid confusion. Unless they wanted you confused. The older one, Julian Sterling, was my fiancé, the ruthless CEO of Sterling Group. Cold, noble, always in control. The younger one, Adrian Sterling, was the wild child. Pampered, reckless, eyes full of mischief. The playboy of the city. I stood on the stairs, amusedly observing the swap. Adrian, pretending to be his brother, had slicked back his hair and wore rimless glasses to hide the mole near his eye. Julian wore his brother's casual shirt, top buttons undone, hair messy, a smirk pasted on his face. Target acquired. I ran barefoot and threw myself into Adrian's arms, landing squarely on his lap. "Julian! How could you leave me alone?" I sobbed, tears welling up perfectly in my eyes. The muscles beneath me tensed instantly. His chest heaved against my cheek. A warning cough came from behind us. "Morning, sister-in-law." A deep voice laced with suppressed anger reminded me of his presence. "Oh! Adrian's here too!" I blushed, playfully hitting my fake fiancé's chest. "Why didn't you tell me your brother was coming!" Through the thin silk of my nightgown, I wiggled against the man, feeling his breathing grow erratic. Crash. A cup shattered. Coffee pooled on the floor. "Sorry. Slipped," Julian said, staring at the broken pieces of my favorite mug. He shoved his chair back and dragged his brother outside for a "talk." Watching the tense standoff on the terrace, I asked the butler for a new set of cutlery and started eating leisurely. The show was just beginning. 4 Because the wedding was approaching, I claimed I couldn't sleep without Julian. So, for an overseas project that required his personal attention, his brother Adrian would "go in his place." But I knew the truth. Julian was leaving. Adrian was staying. At noon, Adrian and I saw Julian off at the airport. "Why aren't you driving the new car I gave you?" I asked the fake Adrian. Julian panicked for a split second before smoothly lying, "Sister-in-law, a valet scratched it when I went drinking the other night. It's in the shop. My bad, didn't know it was a gift from you." "Oh, as long as you're safe," I replied sweetly. So, he'd already disposed of the car involved in the accident. And the evidence. Hearing my fiancé call me "sister-in-law" with a straight face while pretending to be his brother... I almost laughed out loud. This play required all three of us to be Oscar-worthy. ... In the VIP lounge. While the brothers whispered in a corner, I got up to buy coffee. Turning around with my cup, I bumped into a woman rushing past. Hot coffee splashed onto her designer coat. I started to apologize, but she acted like a frightened bird, waving her hands and saying "it's fine" before disappearing into the crowd. The boarding announcement played. "Safe flight." I held Adrian's hand as we watched his brother board. Julian gave our joined hands a dark look before smirking threateningly. "Bro, take good care of your sister-in-law." "Yeah. Don't worry about it." Once Julian was gone, I clung to Adrian's arm, giggling into my hand. "Adrian really needs to practice. He was so nervous he called me 'your' sister-in-law instead of 'my' sister-in-law." The muscles under my hand tightened. He patted my head. "Ignore the idiot. Let's go home." "Okay." On the way back, my private investigator sent me photos and videos. After we left, Julian didn't board his flight. He went to the international terminal to meet someone. A petite woman huddled into his coat. They hugged and kissed openly in the terminal. Julian took off his disguise, put his glasses back on, and with his arm around her, boarded a flight to Paris. The woman was the one I bumped into. In the photos, she took off her mask and sunglasses. I'd recognize that face anywhere. The first bridesmaid on my list. My best friend of ten years, Chloe.
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