Faking Amnesia For A New Life
I lost my memory. Or rather, I faked it.
Conrad Gallagher, the boyfriend I had been secretly dating for five years, effortlessly erased our entire relationship.
"You're only fit to be a casual hookup."
Then, he announced his engagement to a woman approved by his parents.
To save myself from utter humiliation, I faked amnesia, conveniently forgetting no one but Conrad.
But when it was time for me to get married, Conrad regretted it. He kidnapped me right out of my wedding and spirited me away: "Don't marry him, okay?"
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Chapter 3
Aurora's POV
I knew he wouldn't easily buy my amnesia act, but I hadn't expected him to be so blunt.
I put on a mask of polite confusion.
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow, Mr. Gallagher," I replied, my tone perfectly even. "My doctors have been very clear about my condition. Perhaps you're confusing me with someone else?"
I gently tugged on Elliot's arm. "Elliot, I really need to step away for a moment. This conversation is getting a bit... confusing."
Elliot offered a polite, somewhat stiff nod. "Conrad, if you'll excuse us. Aurora needs to rest."
Hand on my back, he guided me away, weaving through the thinning crowd. I could feel the heat of Conrad's stare burning into my back the entire way.
As we walked, we cast a stealthy glance over our shoulders.
Conrad was still standing there, watching us, his dark, commanding figure standing out starkly against the glittering backdrop of the ballroom.
"Hurry, Elliot," I whispered.
"Copy that." Elliot picked up the pace, leading me down a secluded corridor toward a private lounge.
He pulled the heavy double doors shut behind him, instantly blanketing the room in silence.
He turned to me, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Well, that was a dramatic exit, wouldn't you say? Straight out of a movie. I half expected him to declare his undying love and sweep you away in a horse-drawn carriage."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Elliot. Even if true love bit him on the ass, he wouldn't recognize it. A carriage? Please. He'd probably have a self-driving Tesla waiting."
Elliot's laughter always had a way of grounding me.
Like me, he came from old money. However, Elliot had always bucked family expectations, choosing architecture over finance, pursuing passion over profit.
He knew the suffocating weight of family expectations all too well. Because of that, he understood my need for this fake engagement—a mutual escape hatch from our respective families' pressures.
It was a partnership, a strategic alliance, but it felt like much more than that.
"So," Elliot's tone softened, "five years together. Any regrets?"
I shook my head. "It's only a relationship if the love is mutual. One-sided devotion is just playing the martyr."
As I spoke, my hand accidentally brushed against the soft fabric of Conrad's coat, which was still draped over my shoulders.
"Oh, for god's sake." I yanked the coat off. "Elliot, please, go give this back to him."
Elliot took the coat. "On it."
"I'll be right here, waiting by the window," I said, pointing to a secluded alcove. "Make it quick."
He nodded, gave my hand a comforting squeeze, and disappeared back through the double doors. I watched him go, then walked over to the window, gazing out at the city lights.
Suddenly, a deep, abrupt voice sounded behind me: "Looking for someone?"
I froze, my blood running cold. I knew that voice. It was Conrad.
I turned around slowly, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Mr. Gallagher," I said, striving for a perfectly neutral tone. "I assumed you had left. I sent Elliot to return your jacket..."
Before I could finish, he moved. His hand shot out, wrapping like a vice around my wrist.
"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice raspy.
"What do you want?" I demanded, wrenching myself free from his grip.
"Aurora," he murmured, his voice low and dark. "Tell me, have you really forgotten everything we shared? Forgotten everything about us?"
I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat. "I... I told you," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "My memory... isn't what it used to be."
"Oh? You remember Elliot, but conveniently forgot me?"
I pressed my lips together, finding that difficult to answer.
"And what about this?" His voice was thick with gravel. Without waiting for a reply, he lunged forward and crashed his lips onto mine, rough and domineering.
The sudden assault shocked me, panic instantly short-circuiting my brain. His hands, resting on my shoulders, slid up my neck to cup my jaw, pulling me flush against him.
His kiss was aggressive. My head spun, and I couldn't breathe.
This wasn't love; it was a violation.
Conrad must have sensed my revulsion and my violent resistance. He pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy and ragged. In the dim light, his eyes were wild and desperate. But he didn't let me go; his arms remained locked around my waist, holding me captive.
"You're so beautiful, Aurora," he whispered hoarsely. "There's no way you've forgotten everything."
"Tell me, Aurora. Do you really have amnesia? Or is it... selective amnesia? Are you forgetting me on purpose?"
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8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.
9.4
My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach.
Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess.
The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings.
Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me.
To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive.
I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger.
But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear.
"Stay here and don't starve."
I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force.
7.3
e didn't come to stop my wedding to Daniel. He came to claim me for himself.
One moment I was walking toward "I do" - toward Daniel, my safe, predictable future. Next, his men stormed the church, and I was dragged from the altar in my lace dress, veil torn, dreams shattered. I became the prize of the most dangerous man in the city.
Eric Moretti. The Mafia King. Cold eyes. Sinful mouth. Hands that have ended lives... and now own mine.
"Daniel can't protect you," he growled against my ear that first night, locking me in his penthouse. "He never could. But me, Seraphina? I'll owe you. Cherish you. Destroy anyone who looks at you twice. You're mine now."
I fought him. I screamed. I clawed.
He pinned my wrists above my head and showed me exactly what resistance costs.
But somewhere between the silk sheets and the dangerous midnight confessions, hate began to blur with something far more terrifying-need. His touch sets my skin on fire. His voice commands my pulse. And when he looks at me like I'm the only light in his dark world, I forget Daniel's name. I forget I was ever meant to be someone else's bride.
"I should let you go," he admits one night, lips trailing down my throat. "Send you back to your safe little life with Daniel. But I'm a selfish bastard. And you... You've gotten under my skin, Bella."
But in his world, love is a death sentence. Enemies circle. Betrayal festers. And when they come for him, they'll have to go through me-the bride who stopped being a captive the moment I chose to stay.
They say the Mafia King has no heart. They're wrong. He gave it to me-and I'll burn this city down before I let anyone take it from him.me to add more tension between Eric and Daniel, or make Daniel a bigger threat?
7.2
I went to the bank to set up a trust fund for my twins, only to have the manager look at me with pity.
"Mrs. Dunlap, the trust requires the *biological* mother's signature."
I froze. I *was* their mother. Or so I thought.
That day, I learned my husband, the most powerful Mafia Don on the coast, had used his ex-lover’s frozen eggs.
For six years, I wasn't his wife. I was just the incubator.
When his "true love," Iliana, returned from exile, my life disintegrated.
My children, poisoned by her lies, pushed me down the stairs and called me "just the nanny."
Gavyn didn't help me up. He stepped over my bleeding body to take his "real family" out for ice cream.
But the ultimate betrayal happened on a windswept cliff.
Staged by Iliana, we were both tied up, allegedly rigged to explode.
Forced to choose who to save, Gavyn didn't hesitate.
He cut Iliana loose.
"You did this to yourself, Alex," he said, driving away with the children, leaving me to die.
He thought he was leaving behind a corpse.
He didn't know I had skimmed ten million dollars from the household accounts.
"Cut me loose," I told the hitman, transferring the money. "And tell him the ocean took me."
Two years later, the Don is on his knees in my garden, begging for a second chance.
Too bad he has to get through my new fiancé first—the head of the rival cartel.
8.4
Eleven years ago, Damien Falcone pulled me from the freezing waters, and I thought I was marrying my savior.
Instead, he orchestrated my absolute ruin by forging evidence to frame me for selling a vital mafia bootlegging route to the FBI.
Under the guise of saving me from the family's brutal death sentence, he stripped away my future as his Mafia Queen. He dragged me to New York and locked me in a gilded penthouse cage. For eleven years, I rotted away as his secret prisoner until my failing body finally gave out.
As I collapsed in the freezing New York snow, he caught me, his hands trembling as he held my dying body against his chest.
"No, Fia, stay with me. I did it to keep you alive. I had to—"
I didn't want to hear his monstrous lies anymore. I had given him all my love, and he repaid me with a tomb. Loving him was the only unforgivable sin I ever committed.
"I pray... we never meet again."
When the howling wind faded, I opened my eyes to the heavy stench of rust and lake water. I wasn't dead.
I was back in the cramped cabin of a cargo freighter, exactly sixteen years old again. It was the very night my jealous cousin sent an assassin to carve up my face and void my marriage to the Falcone family.
This time, I quietly gripped the heavy oak slat under my mattress.
7.5
I didn't fall for him.
I crashed.
Liam Cage wasn't supposed to matter. He was just the arrogant stranger with a dangerous smile and eyes that undressed me in a single glance. Just a man passing through my life.
Until our parents got married.
Now he's everywhere, in the kitchen at midnight, leaning against doorframes like he owns the air I breathe. In the hallway, too close. Always too close. Every look between us feels like a secret. Every argument feels like foreplay. Every silence feels loaded.
We don't talk about it.
We don't have to.
Because the truth is there in the way my pulse stutters when he says my name. In the way he watches me like he's trying to decide whether to ruin me - or save me.
He's wrong.
For me.
For my family.
For my sanity.
But when he touches me, the world narrows down to skin and heat and the terrifying realization that some mistakes don't feel like mistakes at all.
They feel inevitable.
This story is about craving what you shouldn't, crossing lines you swore you wouldn't, and discovering that sometimes the most dangerous love is the one that feels the most real.