The phone call came at 2:47 AM, and Isabella knew—even before she answered—that her carefully constructed world was about to shatter.
"Ms. Hart?" The nurse's voice was professional but urgent. "There's been an accident. Mr. Black is in surgery. You're listed as his emergency contact."
Isabella's hands shook so violently she nearly dropped her phone. Liam. Her Liam. The man she'd worked beside for four years. The man she'd been secretly married to for two.
The word "surgery" echoed in her mind like a death sentence.
She didn't remember getting dressed. Didn't remember the frantic taxi ride through rain-soaked streets. All she knew was the terror clawing at her chest, the desperate prayer repeating in her mind: Please don't take him. Please.
When she burst through the hospital doors, her wet hair plastered to her face and mascara streaking her cheeks, she looked nothing like the polished secretary who organized Liam's entire life. She looked like exactly what she was—a woman destroyed by fear.
The private waiting room was already full.
Liam's mother, Margaret Black, sat rigid in a leather chair, her face pale but composed. His younger brother, Ethan, paced near the window. And there, perched on the sofa like a perfect porcelain doll, was Chloe Montgomery—Liam's publicly acknowledged fiancée, the woman whose engagement photos had been splashed across every business magazine last month.
The woman who had no idea that two years ago, in a quiet lawyer's office, Liam had signed a marriage contract with his secretary.
"What are you doing here?" Chloe's voice dripped with contempt as she looked Isabella up and down. "Did you follow the ambulance? God, the desperation is pathetic."
Isabella's throat burned, but she forced herself to speak. "How is he? What happened?"
"That's family business," Margaret said coldly, not even glancing at her. "You may wait outside if you're concerned. I'm sure the company will appreciate your... dedication."
The word "dedication" sounded like an insult.
Isabella's nails dug into her palms. Every instinct screamed at her to stay silent, to play her role, to protect their secret. But the image of Liam lying broken and bleeding somewhere beyond those doors made something inside her snap.
"I need to see him."
"Absolutely not," Chloe stood, her designer dress perfect despite the hour. "Security should remove her. She's clearly having some sort of breakdown—"
"Mrs. Black?" A doctor emerged, his scrubs still stained with blood—Liam's blood—and Isabella nearly collapsed. "We've stabilized him, but we need consent for additional procedures. There's swelling on the brain, and we need to—"
"Yes, of course, do whatever—" Margaret began.
"I'm his wife."
The words came out stronger than Isabella expected. Louder. They echoed in the sudden, suffocating silence.
For three heartbeats, no one moved. Then Chloe laughed—a sharp, cruel sound.
"Oh, this is rich. Did everyone hear that? The secretary thinks she's—" Chloe turned to Margaret with mock sympathy. "You really should screen your son's employees better. This one's clearly delusional."
"Ms. Hart," Margaret's voice could have frozen fire. "I don't know what fantasy you've constructed in your mind, but making such claims during a family crisis is not only inappropriate, it's—"
"Call security," Ethan said quietly, pulling out his phone. "Have her removed."
The doctor looked between them, confused. "I... I need legal next-of-kin to—"
"I'm his fiancée," Chloe stepped forward, flashing her enormous engagement ring like a weapon. "We're getting married in three months. Obviously, I'm—"
"Ma'am, I need documentation. A marriage certificate or—"
"I have one," Isabella whispered. Her hands shook as she reached for her purse. "I can prove—"
"Enough!" Margaret rose, her eyes blazing. "I will not tolerate this circus. My son is fighting for his life, and you—you secretary—dare to fabricate—"
"Mrs. Black, please," the doctor tried again. "Time is critical. If there's any question of legal marriage, I need to see—"
A nurse rushed in, interrupting. "Doctor, we have Mr. Black's personal effects. His phone keeps lighting up. Should I—"
"Give it to me," Margaret commanded, holding out her hand.
But the nurse had already placed it on the side table, and in the harsh hospital lights, the screen illuminated.
Everything stopped.
The lock screen photo was crystal clear. Isabella, curled up on the charcoal gray sofa of Liam's penthouse—the penthouse no one was allowed to enter—fast asleep with her hair falling across her face. The photo was taken from above, intimate and tender, capturing a moment so private it felt like witnessing a prayer.
She was wearing one of Liam's shirts.
The room fell into a silence so complete, Isabella could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Chloe moved first, snatching the phone. Her face drained of color as she stared at the image. "This is... this is Photoshopped. It has to be. Liam would never—"
"My son doesn't keep photos," Margaret whispered, her voice strange and distant. She'd gone completely white. "Not of anyone. Not even family. He says they're—" She stopped, staring at Isabella as if seeing her for the first time. "He says they're a weakness."
Ethan grabbed the phone from Chloe's trembling hands. His eyes widened. "The metadata says this was taken two days ago. At 11:43 PM. In his apartment."
"That's impossible," Chloe's voice rose to a shriek. "I'm his fiancée! He wouldn't—she's just a secretary! A nobody! This is some kind of trick, some—"
"Ms. Hart?" The doctor's voice cut through the chaos. He was looking at Isabella with new respect—and urgent concern. "If you are indeed his wife, I need your consent. We're losing time."
Isabella's voice came out barely above a whisper. "Do whatever you need to save him."
"Wait—" Chloe lunged forward, but Ethan held her back.
"Let me see that certificate," Margaret demanded, her voice shaking now.
Isabella pulled the folded document from her purse with trembling fingers. She'd carried it every day for two years, hidden in a secret pocket. Her lifeline. Her proof. Her greatest secret.
Margaret snatched it, her eyes scanning the official document. The date: two years ago, three months after Liam's father died. The signatures: Liam Black and Isabella Hart. Legal. Binding. Real.
The paper slipped from Margaret's fingers.
"Two years," she breathed. "You've been married for two years, and he never—" Her eyes turned to ice as she looked at Isabella. "What kind of arrangement is this? What did you do to manipulate my son?"
"I didn't—"
"She's a gold digger!" Chloe screamed. "She probably drugged him or blackmailed him or—"
"Ma'am, I need you to sign here," the doctor interrupted, holding out forms. "We need to operate now."
Isabella signed with shaking hands. Each signature felt like sealing her fate.
The doctor rushed away, and the room fell into terrible silence.
"You will explain everything," Margaret said quietly, dangerously. "When my son wakes up, we will get to the bottom of this farce. And if I find out you've manipulated him in any way—"
"Mrs. Black!" Another doctor burst in, younger, panicked. "We have a complication."
Isabella's world tilted.
"The head trauma is worse than we thought. We've stopped the bleeding, but—" The doctor's eyes found Isabella. "Mrs. Black, you should know... there's a strong possibility of memory loss. Brain injuries like this, the swelling, the impact—he may not remember recent events."
"How recent?" Ethan asked.
The doctor hesitated. "It varies. Could be days. Could be months. In severe cases..." He paused. "Could be years."
The floor dropped out from under Isabella's feet.
"No," she whispered. "No, please—"
"Are you saying my son might not remember his own engagement?" Chloe asked, a strange hope in her voice. "That's... that's terrible, but surely—"
"We won't know the extent until he wakes up," the doctor said carefully. "If he wakes up."
If.
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
Seven hours later
Isabella sat in the hard plastic chair outside the ICU, her body numb, her mind screaming. Margaret had banned her from the room. Chloe kept pacing, making calls to friends, already spinning the story to her advantage. Ethan watched Isabella with an expression she couldn't read.
When the doctor finally emerged, everyone stood.
"He's awake."
Relief crashed over Isabella so powerfully she nearly collapsed.
"Thank God," Margaret pressed a hand to her chest. "Can we see him?"
"He's stable, but confused. I need to warn you—" The doctor looked directly at Isabella. "The amnesia is significant. He remembers his childhood, his father's death, building the company..." He paused. "But nothing from the last two years."
Isabella couldn't breathe.
"Two years?" Margaret repeated slowly. Then her eyes cut to Isabella. "So he doesn't remember—"
"He doesn't remember marrying her," Chloe said triumphantly. "He doesn't remember any of this fake marriage nonsense!"
"It's not fake," Isabella whispered, but her voice broke. "We're really—"
"You're nothing," Chloe hissed. "You're a stranger to him now. A secretary he won't even recognize as anything more than an employee."
"Mrs. Black," the doctor addressed Isabella gently. "I understand this is difficult, but you should know—in his mind, it's two years ago. Before whatever happened between you. Before the marriage. You need to be prepared that he may not—"
"I want to see my son," Margaret interrupted. "Now."
They were led to Liam's room. Isabella stayed back, her heart breaking with every step.
Through the window, she could see him. Pale, bandaged, but alive. His eyes were open.
Margaret entered first. Then Ethan. Chloe tried to follow, but the doctor stopped her. "Family only right now."
"But I'm his fiancée—"
"A fiancée he doesn't remember," the doctor said firmly.
Isabella watched through the glass as Margaret took Liam's hand, as Ethan spoke to him. She saw Liam's confusion, his questions.
Then his eyes found her through the window.
For one moment—one breathless, impossible moment—she thought she saw recognition. Something flickered in his gaze.
But then Margaret said something, and Liam looked away.
The doctor touched Isabella's shoulder gently. "Would you like to go in?"
"Does he..." Isabella's voice cracked. "Does he remember me at all?"
"He knows you as his secretary. He remembered your name immediately when we asked about his emergency contact. He seemed surprised it was you, but..." The doctor paused. "He doesn't remember anything from the past two years. The marriage, whatever relationship you had... in his mind, it never happened."
Isabella's legs gave out. She caught herself against the wall.
"I can't," she whispered. "I can't go in there and see him look at me like... like I'm no one."
But even as she said it, the door opened.
"Ms. Hart?" Liam's voice, rough and confused. "They said you're here. Why—" He stopped, his brow furrowing. "Why are you crying? Did something happen at the office?"
He looked at her with polite concern. Professional concern. The way a CEO looks at a valued employee.
Nothing more.
Isabella's heart shattered into a million pieces.
"The office is fine, Mr. Black," she managed to say, forcing herself to stay standing. "I'm just glad you're alright."
"They're telling me I've lost two years of memories," Liam said, his frustration evident. "That doesn't make sense. I remember last week's board meeting. I remember you organizing the merger documents. How can I just... lose two years?"
Last week's board meeting. Three years ago.
"The mind works in mysterious ways," the doctor said carefully.
"Ms. Hart, I'll need you to brief me on everything I've missed," Liam continued, all business. "Two years of company developments, I'll need full reports—"
"Liam," Margaret interrupted sharply. "That can wait. You need to rest."
"There's something else you need to know," Ethan added, his eyes flicking to Isabella with something like pity. "Something important happened in those two years. Something about—"
"Not now," Margaret cut him off with a look that could kill. "The doctor said not to overwhelm him."
"But he should know about—" Ethan gestured to Isabella.
"I said NOT NOW."
The silence was deafening.
Liam looked between them, confused. Then his eyes landed on Isabella again. "Ms. Hart, you look exhausted. Have you been here all night? That's not necessary. Go home and rest. I'll call you when I'm released and we'll schedule that briefing."
So professional. So distant. So completely unaware that she was his wife.
"Of course, Mr. Black," Isabella heard herself say. "I'll prepare those reports."
She turned to leave, her vision blurring with tears.
"Ms. Hart?" Liam called after her.
She stopped, hope flaring painfully in her chest. Maybe—
"Thank you for coming. I... I appreciate your dedication to the company."
Dedication to the company.
Not dedication to him. Not love. Not the two years of secret marriage, of stolen moments, of him holding her while she slept and taking photos because he said he needed proof their happiness was real.
Just dedication to the company.
Isabella walked out of that hospital room, and with every step, she felt their marriage—their love—disappearing like it had never existed at all.
In the hallway, Chloe was waiting, a cruel smile on her perfect face.
"Well," Chloe said sweetly. "Looks like you're nobody again. Back to being just the secretary." She leaned in close. "And I'll make sure it stays that way. Whatever you think happened between you and Liam—it's gone now. He's mine. He always was."
Isabella said nothing. She couldn't. If she opened her mouth, she would scream.
She made it to the parking lot before she collapsed against her car, sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe.
Her phone buzzed. A message from the lawyer who had handled their marriage contract.
Heard about the accident. I'm sorry, Isabella. If he doesn't remember, legally, you're still married. But emotionally...
The message ended there, because what else was there to say?
She was married to a man who didn't remember loving her. Married to a man who looked at her and saw only an employee. Married to a man who might fall in love with someone else—with Chloe—all over again.
Another message came through. This one from an unknown number.
Stay away from Liam. He doesn't remember you, and he never will. I'll make sure of that. This is your only warning.
- Chloe
Isabella stared at the threat through her tears.
Then her phone rang. Liam's mother.
"Ms. Hart," Margaret's voice was cold steel. "We need to talk. About this... marriage. About how you're going to make it disappear before my son remembers something that will ruin his life."
Isabella closed her eyes.
She'd survived four years of hiding her feelings for Liam. She'd survived two years of a secret marriage, of loving a man who could never claim her in public. She'd survived watching him pretend she meant nothing while he worshipped her behind closed doors.
But this—losing him completely, watching him look at her like a stranger—this might finally break her.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Isabella said quietly.
She ended the call and looked back at the hospital, at the window where she could still see Liam's room.
I'm still your wife, she thought desperately. Even if you don't remember. Even if you never remember. I'm still yours.
But in that moment, staring at the man who had forgotten her completely, Isabella realized the cruelest truth of all:
Having Liam's ring on her finger meant nothing if she no longer had his heart.