That same night, during the engagement party—
"Boss," one of Edward's men called out.
"What?" Edward replied sharply.
The man whispered something that instantly changed Edward's expression. Without a word, he rushed back to the mansion and summoned the staff.
"Where's the money—and the forty red diamonds?"
"Boss Edward, we don't know. You're the only one know the codes to Lord Martin's vault."
In a Remote Countryside Hospital
Vincent spoke with the doctor.
"Good thing we got to her in time. Due to malnutrition, stress, and physical abuse, she nearly miscarried. And she's experiencing temporary memory loss," the doctor said.
"Did someone hurt her?" he asked.
"No, Doc. She's my brother's wife—he's abroad," Vincent lied quickly.
"We found two bullets lodged in her leg. They weren't deep, but they caused an infection."
"B-bullets?" Vincent gasped.
"Yes. They'd been there for months. We've removed them and neutralized the infection," the doctor assured.
Vincent fell silent, guilt washing over him. He hadn't expected this outcome from his past alliance with Tyra. Seeing Margaret's condition, he chose not to remind her of the past and accepted her temporary amnesia.
Margaret—now going by Lauryn—woke up to find Vincent asleep beside her. She tried to recall what happened, but the effort only brought pain.
"Lauryn, how are you feeling?" Vincent asked, his voice familiar but unrecognizable to her.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"You don't remember? I'm Michael Lopez—your husband," Vincent said, beginning his deception.
"Husband? When did we get married? And why am I in a hospital?"
"You fell down the stairs at our house. I rushed you here, and you're unconscious for weeks. Thankfully, you're safe," he said, feigning concern.
"Lauryn, you're my wife. And you're carrying our children," he added emotionally.
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember marrying you," she said, confused.
"That's just the amnesia talking. The doctor said it's mild. What matters is—you and the babies are safe."
At Tyra's House
"Why haven't I heard anything? Where are those men?" Tyra muttered, worried that Edward might have discovered her plan to kill Margaret and her unborn twins.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Hello? Who is this?"
She was about to hang up when a cold voice replied:
"Waiting for someone? Don't bother. I've already sent them to the hell they deserve. You're next."
"Who the hell are you?! You have no right—"
"Don't worry, Tyra. I enjoy playing dirty with you."
Tyra froze. For the first time, someone was threatening her.
"I'm not afraid of you! Who are you?"
"Doesn't matter. Just know—there are eyes watching your back." The call ended.
The Next Morning at the Mansion
"Boss, one of our cars is on the news."
They turned on the TV:
"Two charred bodies were found inside a burned Bentley Mulsanne Speed with plate PWRS13. Authorities confirm the vehicle belongs to a powerful family whose identity remains undisclosed for security reasons. Investigators suspect the deaths were accidental."
Moments later, General Myers—Chief of Police and ally of the Powers—called.
"General, I have no idea how my car ended up there," Edward said defensively.
"Don't worry, Lord Powers. I'll handle it," the general replied.
"Just make sure my name stays out of this," Edward warned.
Days Later
Tyra was stunned to find her long-missing car parked outside her house. Inside, a note read: I'll come back for you, criminal.
She began to suspect Margaret might still be alive—waiting for revenge. Her thoughts were interrupted by photos of Margaret gambling at a casino, something Edward despised.
The mysterious number called again.
"Did you like my gift?"
"You bastard! You don't know me. I'm Edward Powers' fiancée. I can have you eliminated!"
"Really? Maybe he'll eliminate you first—once he learns all the vile things you've done. Start praying, Tyra." The call ended.
Tyra's first suspicion was that only Vincent and Dr. Gates knew her secrets. She vividly remembered planting a bomb in Vincent's car and watching it explode—believing he had died. And Dr. Gates? She was sure the doctor had been scared into silence.