Things couldn't stop getting foggy as I awoke. My eyelids fluttered, heavy as stones, and for a moment, I didn't even know where I was. The first thing that struck me was the ceiling—white, flawless, and cold like marble. Too sterile. Too silent.
But then another realization hit me harder than anything else: the sharp, piercing scent of antiseptic. The hospital.
My stomach churned at the smell, and a bitter taste rose to my mouth. I hated hospitals, hated them with every fiber of my being. They reminded me of everything I wanted to erase, everything that chained me to memories I couldn't face. And yet, here I was—again.
What happened?
I pushed my head up a little, only to feel a stabbing pain that sent a shockwave through my temples. My head throbbed like it was about to explode, my pulse hammering in my ears. Blinking against the dizziness, I scanned the room. It wasn't the same one as before. This was different—more sterile, quieter, with machines humming softly in the background. The ICU.
My chest tightened.
Where was Fei-Fei?
The thought alone made my hands tremble. My fingers gripped the blanket, cold sweat forming on my palms. She should've been here. She was always here. My throat burned with panic.
And then I heard it—a voice. Masculine. Young. Firm. It cut through the silence like steel through silk.
"You're awake. You shouldn't move your body."
I turned my head and saw him. He was setting down a tray with syringes and small bottles of liquid drugs, his movements careful, practiced. My clouded mind screamed one thing: they were for me.
"Where's Fei-Fei?" My voice came out raw, almost desperate, as I darted my eyes around the room.
"Your secretary?" he asked without looking up. "She went out to buy food. We told her it was about time you woke up, but she was concerned about what you would eat."
His tone was calm, almost too calm, like he had spoken this line a thousand times to restless patients. He finished measuring the liquid, then carefully inserted the syringe into the drip bag hanging beside me.
"I won't be using that for so long." My voice was flat, but my glare made my point clear.
He glanced at me then, and for the first time, I saw his face fully. The smile he gave me wasn't mocking. It wasn't professional either. It was… familiar. Too familiar.
My heart gave a confused jolt. That face, those eyes—they tugged at something in me, some half-buried memory I couldn't place. I felt like I knew him, but I was certain I'd never met him. Maybe I was still drowning in the past, hallucinating faces where they didn't belong.
"What's your name?" The words slipped from me before I could stop them.
"Ning. Just Ning."
"Ning?" I repeated. "Are you a doctor here?"
He shook his head lightly. "No, I'm an intern." Then he hesitated, his gaze lowering. "I'm sorry about what she did. She's always like this." He bowed his head in apology.
"She?" My brow furrowed. "What she? What did she do?"
His lips tightened. "She's a mistress of the owner of this hospital. And she thinks everyone is beneath her. Many of our supervisors have warned her, but they all ended up fired."
The words didn't register immediately. Mistress. Owner. Fired.
"Owner?" I echoed numbly.
This couldn't be right. The owner of this hospital? No. Impossible. If memory served me well—and I knew it did—this hospital was mine. Mine. My sweat, my blood, my nights clawing at nothing until success bent its knee. I wasn't bragging when I said it: I was the third richest person in the world. Ten billion dollars to my name, maybe more, and this hospital had been one of the stones in my empire.
So where on earth was this 'owner' he was talking about?
"Where's my phone?" My voice hardened, urgency leaking through.
"I'm afraid it's not in our possession," Ning said carefully.
Before I could demand further, the door opened.
And there she was—Fei-Fei. My secretary. My shadow. My only anchor. She rushed inside, her face pale but lighting up the moment she saw me awake.
"You're awake?" She gasped, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes before she leaned down to hug me. Her warmth nearly undid me. "I thought you were—" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze flicking briefly to the intern who bowed politely before stepping aside.
"What happened?" I asked, voice tight.
Her shoulders sagged. She exhaled, but not with relief. No—her silence told me she was treading carefully, afraid that if I remembered everything, I would not remain calm.
"You panicked," she said quietly. "And you know what always happens when you do."
Panic.
The word echoed in my skull. A chill clawed up my spine.
I stilled. My lips parted, but for once, I breathed slowly instead of snapping. "Where's she?" I asked coldly.
Fei-Fei fidgeted, eyes darting away. And that's when I saw it—the bruises.
"What the fuck happened to you?" My voice thundered as I caught her wrist, my eyes scanning every dark mark.
"Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly. "I was afraid you would… murder someone. So, I—"
"Idiot!" My voice cracked, a mixture of rage and fear. "How many times do I have to tell you not to hug me when I turn frantic? And now you're hurt." My chest twisted painfully at the sight.
"You don't have to worry. I'm okay."
"Who said I was worried? I'm afraid people will call me bad." I scoffed, masking my trembling heart with sarcasm.
She chuckled softly. She knew me too well. She knew the walls I built weren't walls at all, just paper shields against storms too violent to face.
"But apologizing wouldn't hurt though," she teased gently.
I snorted, but my voice softened. "Take care of your wounds. Look beautiful tomorrow." I muttered.
"Apology accepted," she smiled, her eyes glimmering with warmth as she pulled out a plastic bag. "Eat something."
The moment the chopsticks touched my hand, I devoured the food like a starved beast. The flavors barely registered, but my body greedily accepted every bite until the plates were empty.
"Gosh, I'm full," I sighed, sinking back into the pillows, exhaustion crawling into my bones.
Silence hung between us for a moment until Fei-Fei spoke, her tone cautious.
"Do you want to see her?"
I knew who she meant. I didn't answer. Instead, I asked the question that had been burning holes in my mind since Ning's words.
"That intern told me that my hospital—the one I sweated for—is owned by someone else. Care to interpret that?"
Her face shifted, and she hesitated. That alone told me everything: this was bad.
"I was surprised when I heard it from her," she admitted at last. "Then I dug into the matter and found something disturbing."
"Disturbing? What could that be?" My back straightened, adrenaline prickling my skin.
"Well…" She inhaled, as though steadying herself before breaking news that could shatter glass. "The man you appointed to take care of the hospital—one of the shareholders—he… he suffers from dementia. Since we only came to inspect our investments yearly, his son took the opportunity to claim ownership. He embezzled hospital funds, used them on that… bitch."
Her voice trembled with disgust as she said it.
"What happened next? They became proud? How come we never got to know of that?" My fists clenched so tightly, my nails dug into my palm.
"Just like you witnessed yourself," she said, throwing me a nervous glance, measuring her words. "They've kicked out less privileged patients, demanded double payments from the wealthy, fired nurses and doctors who resisted. Even the mistress—you saw her—she has no medical experience, but she demanded influence, and he granted it."
The actual hell.
This went on under my nose, and I had no idea? The betrayal tasted metallic on my tongue. This—this was why I fought, why I clawed my way to the top. And someone dared impersonate me? Dared to spit on my empire?
"Why did you bring me here?" My voice was low, venomous.
"Because this was your hard-earned money, and I wanted you to see it yourself," she said, lowering her head. "And… I had hired a psychologist. She was supposed to meet you once, but after witnessing your trauma today, she rescheduled. Said you needed rest."
"Take me to them."
"What about—"
"Don't make me repeat myself," I growled.
Fei-Fei swallowed and nodded. She knew what that tone meant. She knew what I was about to unleash.
"Submit all evidence to the police. I'll let them go when I'm done with them."
And she knew—letting them go didn't mean mercy. No. With me, it never meant mercy. When I was done, they would beg for death, but death itself would turn them away.
I ripped the needle from my veins, the sting barely registering as I followed Fei-Fei down the sterile halls.
We arrived at a secluded wing of the hospital—an experimental room, though its silence resembled a morgue more than anything. The air was thick, suffocating.
I opened the door.
And there she was. The smug bitch. That same grin I wanted so desperately to carve off her face. She looked at me as if she'd won. But she hadn't. Not yet.
Nightmares clawed at me, but rage steadied me. I would make her life a living hell, one so brutal that every time she heard my name, she'd remember misery knocking on her door.
But then—he walked in.
Of course I knew him. The air left my lungs as recognition crashed over me.
The reason I lost hope.
The man who called me nothing after I gave him everything.
The ghost of my past.
My ex.
Daniel.