Chapter 2

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else," I said, trying to pull my arm from his grip. His fingers were digging into my skin, and a flicker of annoyance, not fear, went through me. "Please let go."

The man's handsome face was a mask of confusion and anger. "Mistaken for someone else? Ava, we were engaged. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. Does that ring a bell?"

I looked at him blankly. The words meant nothing. They were just sounds, disconnected from any emotion or memory in my mind. The space where he should have been was a perfect, peaceful void.

His shock was palpable. He stared at me, his grip loosening slightly as he searched my eyes for any sign of recognition, any flicker of the love that he thought should be there. He found nothing. All he saw was the polite, detached curiosity one might show a stranger who was behaving erratically. This was not the reaction he had expected. He had anticipated tears, accusations, a dramatic scene. My calm indifference threw him completely off balance.

"I need to go," I said, pulling my arm free. I had a schedule to keep, a new life to step into. This man was a distraction, an unpleasant and confusing one. I turned and walked away, my footsteps steady on the pavement. I didn't look back. I had a task to complete, moving to Daniel's estate, and this strange, hostile man was not part of the plan.

From a distance, I heard him shout my name again, his voice laced with a frustration that was quickly turning into something else, something closer to panic. But the sound was already fading, becoming just another part of the city's noise. He was left standing on the sidewalk, watching me walk away without a second glance. The woman who had once loved him more than anything was gone, and he was only just beginning to realize it. His self-assurance began to crack, replaced by a seed of doubt. Could she really have forgotten him?

Later that evening, I was packing the last of my architectural models when Ethan came over. I mentioned the strange encounter.

"A tall guy, really angry, said we were engaged," I told him, wrapping a delicate balsa wood structure in bubble wrap.

Ethan' s face tightened. "That was him," he said quietly. "That was Liam." He pointed to a crumpled tech magazine on my coffee table. On the cover was the same man, hailed as a "Tech Visionary." The headline read: "Liam Vance on his upcoming marriage to childhood sweetheart Chloe."

I picked up the magazine and studied the face. Nothing. No anger, no sadness, just a clinical observation. "So that's the man I chose to forget." A small, humorless smile touched my lips. "It seems I made a good choice. He's very unpleasant."

A profound sense of relief washed over me. The hypnosis had worked better than I could have imagined. I was free. The pain he had caused, which Ethan had described to me in vague, careful terms, was gone. I felt no lingering attachment, no phantom ache. Just a clean slate. My decision had been the right one, a necessary act of self-preservation. I felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. I had taken control of my own mind and my own happiness.

My peaceful state was shattered the next day. I was at my old studio, collecting my personal drafting tools, when a young woman approached me. She was pretty, with wide, innocent-looking eyes that were now filled with tears.

"Ava," she said, her voice trembling. "How could you? After everything Liam has been through."

I recognized her from the magazine cover. Chloe.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied calmly.

"Don't play dumb!" she cried, her voice rising. "Liam told me how you acted yesterday. He's worried sick about you, and you treat him like a stranger? You're cruel!" She held up her hand, which was wrapped in a bandage. "And now this? You send people to threaten me? To tell me to stay away from Liam?"

Before I could process her accusation, she did something unbelievable. She took a step back, her eyes wide with fake terror, and deliberately slammed her bandaged hand into the sharp corner of a metal drafting table.

"Ah!" she screamed, stumbling backward. Blood began to seep through the white gauze. "You pushed me!"

Her scream brought people running. And at that exact moment, Liam burst through the door, his face a thundercloud of rage.

He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look for any other explanation. He saw Chloe on the floor, crying and holding her bleeding hand, and he saw me standing there, frozen in shock. His eyes, cold and hard, locked onto mine.

He strode over to me, grabbed my shoulders, and shook me hard. "What did you do to her?" he roared, his face just inches from mine. "I knew you were unstable, but this? Hurting Chloe because you can't accept that I'm with her now? You're pathetic." He shoved me backward, sending me stumbling into a rack of blueprints, which crashed to the floor around me. He didn' t even glance at me. He was already kneeling by Chloe's side, his voice soft and soothing as he cradled her injured hand. "It's okay, Chloe. I'm here. I won't let her hurt you again."