Chapter 2

My temples were still throbbing.

I opened my eyes and stared blankly at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Last night I tossed and turned in this unfamiliar bed, Brad's ridiculous lie replaying in my head over and over—"He's your boyfriend."

How absurd. A three-year girlfriend turned into a stranger overnight, while Brad's business partner Jordan—a man I barely exchanged nods with—had somehow mysteriously become my "lover."

Oh Brad, your breakup tactics are truly refreshingly original. Just pack up your girlfriend and hand her over?

Light clattering sounds came from the kitchen—Jordan must be preparing breakfast.

Time to start my performance.

I deliberately made some noise, and soon heard footsteps approaching.

"Rebecca, you're awake?" Jordan walked into the living room carrying coffee, his tone unusually gentle. "How are you feeling?"

I rubbed my eyes, putting on an innocent, confused expression: "Jordan... these machines are so complicated, I can't remember anything..."

I pointed at the smart speaker on the wall, deliberately looking bewildered: "What's that black thing? Does it talk?"

Jordan froze. The "Iron Rose" suddenly being afraid of a speaker must have been quite shocking indeed.

"That's a smart speaker. I'll teach you how to use it." Jordan walked over, his voice surprisingly patient. "Just say 'Hey, Alexa' and it'll respond."

"Alexa... Alexa..." I called out cautiously, deliberately making my voice as soft as a feather. "Why won't it answer me?"

"You need to speak louder." Jordan couldn't help but smile. "You weren't like this before."

Before? My heart stirred, but I put on an even more confused expression: "What was I like before? Was I mean?"

"Not mean, just..." Jordan paused. "You had a powerful presence."

I deliberately frowned: "Then why am I so... weak now?"

Jordan looked at my pitiful appearance, and I caught a familiar emotion flashing in his eyes—protectiveness.

"It's okay, take your time. I'll teach you." His voice was unprecedentedly gentle.

For the next half hour, I played the complete "tech illiterate." Too scared to touch the coffee machine, afraid to use the microwave, even needing Jordan to teach me the remote control hand-by-hand.

Watching Jordan patiently teach me every operation, I actually... kind of enjoyed being taken care of?

"Rebecca, do you really not remember anything?" Jordan finally asked.

"I only remember that you're very good to me." I blinked my innocent eyes.

This sentence made Jordan's body visibly stiffen.

Just then, the TV automatically switched to the sports channel, broadcasting my match from last month.

On screen, I was brutally knocking down my opponent in the ring, eyes cold as blades, each punch carrying devastating power.

Time to perform.

"Ah!" I suddenly screamed. "That woman is so scary! She's hitting people! Turn it off! Turn it off quickly!"

I clutched Jordan's arm tightly, curling up in his embrace, deliberately making my body tremble.

Jordan looked shocked at me "trembling" in his arms, then at the domineering boxing queen on TV, completely stunned for several seconds.

"It's okay, it's okay." He gently stroked my back. "It's all turned off now."

I pressed close against Jordan's chest, breathing in his faint cologne, feeling his warm body temperature.

This man... his heartbeat is so fast.

This doesn't feel like acting.

"Jordan, why are you so good to me?" I looked up, deliberately letting my eyes still glisten with "frightened" tears.

Jordan looked into my moist eyes, his lips moving as if wanting to say something, but the words died on his lips. He hesitated for several seconds before finally saying with difficulty: "Because... because you're my girlfriend."

Girlfriend? I sneered inwardly. If I really were your girlfriend, why were you so shocked last night?

"I'll go prepare lunch in the kitchen." Jordan fled hastily, his panic making me even more certain—this man had feelings for me, but we definitely weren't in a romantic relationship.

At 2 PM, I pretended to get water from the kitchen, wanting to walk around and familiarize myself with this "home."

Passing Jordan's study, I heard voices inside.

"Brad, are you sure this is right?" Jordan's voice carried obvious unease.

"Right or wrong?" Brad said impatiently. "She's like an idiot now, doesn't remember anything. This is good for all of us."

Hearing this, my heart went completely cold.

"But Brad, deceiving someone with amnesia..." Jordan's voice held hesitation.

"Deceiving?" Brad laughed coldly. "Jordan, honestly, I've had enough of her long ago. Violent boxing women don't fit my social circle—she embarrasses me every time."

My hands clenched into fists. Violent woman? Crude? Brad, is this your evaluation of our three-year relationship?

"Brad, you can't talk about Rebecca like that." Jordan's tone became serious. "She's an excellent woman."

"Excellent?" Brad scoffed. "Jordan, you haven't lived with her. Always throwing punches, loud voice, completely doesn't understand what gentleness means. Women like Jennifer are what belong beside successful men."

Jennifer?! My heart jumped.

"When she 'recovers,' I'll gradually train her to learn ladylike behavior. If she can't learn..." Brad paused. "Then I'll have to consider other options. You take care of her for a few days—I can focus on handling other matters."

Train? Other options?

I gritted my teeth, almost unable to resist rushing in to punch Brad. But reason told me this wasn't the time.

I quietly returned to the living room, still maintaining an innocent expression on my face, but my heart was already burning with flames of revenge.

Brad Martinez, do you think I'm easy to bully?

That evening, Jordan prepared a late-night snack for me—simple ham sandwiches and warm milk.

"Try it, does it taste good?" Jordan asked carefully.

I took a bite, putting on a delighted expression: "So delicious! Jordan, you're so good at taking care of people."

"You weren't... like this before." Jordan blurted out.

"What was I like before?" I feigned curiosity.

"You used to be very independent, and had a much bigger appetite than now." Jordan couldn't help saying.

My heart tightened. He observed so carefully?

I put on a worried expression: "Will I become malnourished like this?"

"No, I'll take good care of you." Jordan's voice was firm.

I looked up at him: "Jordan, I'm so confused... Why don't I have any memory of you at all?"

Jordan's hand stiffened, nearly dropping his cup.

"The doctor said amnesia is normal, memories will gradually return." He answered carefully.

"But what's strange is..." I put on an even more bewildered look, "When I look at you, I feel warm inside, very secure. But I just can't remember any scenes of us together. How did we meet? When did we start dating?"

Jordan was silent for a long time. I saw pain flash in his eyes.

"You don't remember... that's normal." His voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Then can you tell me?" I blinked innocently. "Like our first date? When did we first say 'I love you'? I want to know our story."

Jordan froze completely. He opened his mouth but couldn't speak.

Sure enough, there was no "our story" at all.