Heart of Revenge

My husband Julian Westbrook went missing in Lysander during our honeymoon. While searching for him, I was kidnapped by a local gang and suffered terrible abuse at their hideout.

After I escaped, I spent five years desperately searching for him, only to discover he had already returned home and lost his memory. He believed his true love was my half-sister.

I tried everything to make him remember me, but he refused to even see me.

Left with no choice, I brought our old photo albums to his house to find him, but was chased into a nearby alley by a stranger with a weapon.

I huddled next to a dumpster, listening to footsteps outside, my hand trembling as I dialed Julian's number again.

The phone rang for so long that my hand holding it went numb from the cold, but no one answered.

This place was quite far from downtown. Although I'd already called the police, they couldn't get here right away.

Julian lived very close by. If he would just answer the phone and come downstairs, I'd be safe.

The dark figure was getting closer. My heart sank, but then the call connected.

Julian's cold, irritated voice came through the phone: "Anastasia Torres, will you ever stop? I already told you, I won't acknowledge you as my wife. Don't you think you're disgusting, constantly bothering me like this!"

Even though I'd gotten used to Julian's coldness during this time, my heart still ached.

He used to love me so much, keeping his phone on him 24/7, afraid he'd miss my calls.

And now, he was using this icy tone, saying I was bothering him, calling me disgusting.

I'd been searching for him for five whole years!

Because of him, I suffered endless torture in that hellhole. I barely escaped, only to find that the person I loved most had forgotten me!

But I couldn't dwell on the pain - the person chasing me was getting closer!

"Julian, could you please come to the alley on the right side of your house with your bodyguards?"

I tried hard to hold back my tears, afraid my voice would be too loud and give away my position. "I... I'm being followed."

Julian didn't say anything on the other end.

I thought he was too shocked to respond and was about to speak again, when I heard a cold laugh through the phone.

"Anastasia, you'll tell any lie now to get my attention, won't you?"

His tone was full of indifferent disdain. "Why would anyone be following you? I'm taking care of Layla and don't have time to deal with you. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me. Stop harassing me and making Layla misunderstand, or I won't be nice to you!"

Hearing that name made my throat feel bitter.

Layla Torres - my half-sister who'd had a congenital heart condition since childhood.

The time I was held captive by the gang wasn't long, yet it felt endless. I'd imagined our reunion so many times, thought he might have had some accident, even thought that no matter what he became, I would still love him.

The one thing I never imagined was that he'd fall in love with someone else.

He used to be the best surgeon, but for Layla, he turned down countless surgeries just to be by her side whenever she needed him.

I understood that he'd lost his memory and forgotten me, but my life was in danger - wouldn't he even believe me?

"Julian."

I swallowed the metallic taste in my mouth, my voice rising involuntarily. "I'm not lying to you."

But before I could finish, he hung up.

The mechanical busy tone drilled into my ears, making my heart sink into coldness.

I wanted to call again, but a shadow fell across me.

Looking up, I met those blood-red eyes full of murderous intent.

I instinctively tried to scream, but he covered my mouth and nose tightly with a handkerchief. It had the sharp smell of ether.

But my body was special - anesthetics needed a very heavy dose to work on me, so I didn't pass out as he'd hoped.

As I struggled, my nails scratched his hand.

The attacker cried out in pain and swung the hammer in his hand hard at my face.

Sharp pain shot through my head. I watched blood spray out, my vision gradually blurring, and soon lost consciousness.

When I woke up again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose, and cold lights shone overhead.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this. Otherwise, the person I love will die."

A familiar deep voice came, gradually bringing me back to my senses.

It was Julian's voice.

I struggled to open my eyes, but everything was white - my face was covered with a white sheet.

It hurt so much!

Had the police arrived and taken me to the hospital?

Before I could process this, an anesthetic needle was injected into my body.

My consciousness became hazy, but my chest suddenly felt sharp pain.

I struggled to look down and saw a slender hand using a scalpel to cut open my skin and flesh. That hand had a small crescent-shaped scar between the thumb and index finger.

That was Julian's hand?

What was he doing?

I was shaking all over from the pain, struggling to speak, but could only make helpless, muffled sounds.

My windpipe had been cut too.

Julian noticed something was wrong. His hand paused for a moment, but then quickly cut again, steadily slicing through my muscles and blood vessels.

The piercing pain made everything go dark, but my body couldn't move at all. Only tears soaked through the white cloth in front of my eyes.

Blood flowed from the incision. I heard Julian murmuring to himself: "Don't blame me. I'll compensate your family. You're too badly injured - only a 1% chance of successful rescue, and you'd likely be brain dead and become a vegetable. But your heart can save Layla."

Layla. Layla again.

The sheet was soaked with cold tears, clinging to my face and making it hard to breathe.

How could I have forgotten? The person Julian loved deeply now was Layla.

He'd always been ruthless. To save the person he loved, what wouldn't he do?

The pain of the surgery lasted so long. I listened to the urgent sounds of the life-support machines, almost wishing I could die sooner.

After what felt like forever, the heart monitor let out a short, sharp beep, announcing that my life had ended at this moment.

So many images flashed before my eyes, all memories of Julian and me.

When we were little, he held my hand and brought me home when I was lost, secretly bringing me candy when the servants locked me in a dark room.

When we grew up, he chased away all the boys who sent me love letters, saying I would only be with him.

Later, when our parents agreed to let us get engaged, he filled the city with fireworks for me, saying he'd cherish me forever and never let me suffer.

But Julian, who loved me so much, disappeared during our honeymoon trip after our wedding.

That night, we'd planned to take wedding photos on the beach, but he never showed up.

The police searched the entire city but found no trace of him. The final conclusion was that he might have been killed by a gang.

The Westbrook family searched hard at first, but eventually accepted reality and gave up.

Only I stayed in Lysander, using every possible method to find him, even risking danger by going to gang territory, only to end up kidnapped and imprisoned, suffering endless beatings and torture in that dark place.

But when I barely escaped, I learned he'd gone home.

He no longer loved me. He was convinced that the person he loved was Layla. Even when our marriage certificate and wedding photos were right in front of him, he thought marrying me was something he'd been forced to do.

I still remember Julian's expression then - he looked at me with disgust and contempt: "Anastasia, why didn't you die out there? What disgusting methods did you use to force me to marry you?"

"I won't be coerced by you anymore. Layla is the only one in my heart. Don't even think about separating us."

I didn't give up. I tried everything to awaken his old memories.

But the little cakes I made were thrown mercilessly into the trash. The soup I'd simmered all night was knocked over carelessly. He tore up our wedding photos, threw our rings into a sewer, and used the cruelest words to humiliate me for being shameless.

The person who once loved me most had forgotten me completely.

And now I had no strength left to keep trying.

I slowly closed my eyes and finally lost consciousness completely.