He had fought vigorously from the penthouse up until they brought him here. He'd lost his cufflinks in the process. His shirt was torn at the collar.Even inside Blackthorne Psychiatric Institute, he still struggled with the orderlies, but their grip was firm."Serena!" His voice bounced off the walls. "Serena, look at me!"She stood at the intake desk wearing the cream-colored Valentino suit Damien had bought her last season. She didn't look up. Didn't make any sign that she heard him. She just kept signing whatever they asked her to sign.Dr. Heller stood beside her. Thin man in a white coat. He'd already made up his mind about Damien.One of the intake nurses asked softly, "Mrs. Wicker, are you sure you want the full restrictive protocol? That means no visitation at all."Serena capped her pen and put on the most pitiful face she could muster. If Damien didn't know the truth, he'd have bought it."Do you think I want this? He's my husband. It hurts to see him this way. But he's a d

When Damien woke up, he was strapped to the bed. It took him a while to remember where he was. When he eventually did, the pain returned.It wasn't just the pain in his left shoulder. It was the pain from the betrayal. What had he done to deserve this?Well, it didn't matter now, did it? What mattered now was that he had to find a way out of this place.He spent the first minute studying the room. No window. Just a steel door with a small reinforced window. One camera high up in the corner. The red light blinked every three seconds. The bed was bolted to the floor. The restraints were standard. Leather. Metal buckles. Locked with a small hex key.He tested the cuffs. The left hand had a little give—maybe a quarter inch. The right was tighter.Just then, the door opened. A nurse walked in. She was young, with dark hair pulled back. Her name tag said Chen. She carried a tray with a paper cup of pills and a plastic water bottle."Good morning, Mr. Wicker." She set the tray on the rolling

Damien kept walking long after the fire disappeared behind him. The rain had stopped, but his clothes were still soaked. Cold wind hit his skin, yet he barely felt it anymore. His body moved on its own, one weak step after another, while his mind stayed trapped inside that living room. His mother's blood on his hands. Her last breath. The way her fingers went cold inside his. He could still hear her voice. Run. Damien pressed the earring tighter into his palm as he walked down the empty street. The sharp edges dug into his skin, but he welcomed the pain. It reminded him that he was still alive, even when he no longer wanted to be. Cars passed him slowly. Some drivers stared. A woman standing outside a small shop covered her mouth when she saw him. A man sitting near a bus stop shook his head quietly as Damien limped past in a torn hospital gown with dried blood on his chest and bare feet covered in cuts. Nobody stopped him. Nobody asked if he was okay. Maybe he looked like a

Three months had passed.Serena sat in the living room of the Wicker mansion. Her red gown hung upstairs. Her diamonds sat on the dresser. She was almost ready to leave.She smiled to herself.Tonight was important. The Ashford family had found their lost heir. They would show him to the world at the charity ball.Serena needed him.Wicker Dynamics was dying. The stock kept falling. Nothing she did helped. The board was angry. Investors were pulling out.She thought Adrian would fix things. That was the deal. She would marry Damien. She and Adrian would take the company. Adrian would run it. She would take the money.But Adrian could not do it.He made promises. He talked big. But when the numbers went down, he had no answers. Just excuses.The company needed Damien. Serena hated to think about it. But it was true. Damien built the company. Damien knew the business. Damien kept everything running.And she had put him in a hospital.She pushed the thought away. It did not matter now. D

Total silence fell on the entire hall. all eyes were on Damien. Serena could not mkve, she was rooted to the spot."Serena, say something." Adrian said, grabbing her arm.but she could not speak.Damien sat in the Ashford chair like he belonged there. His guards stood behind him. He looked at Adrian.Adrian stepped forward. His face was red. "This is fake," Adrian said loudly. "All of this is fake."People turned to look at him.Adrian pointed at Damien. "That man is crazy. He was in a hospital. He beat his wife. He beat me too. He should be locked up, not sitting there."The butler looked at Adrian. His face did not change. "Do you have proof?" the butler asked."Proof?" Adrian laughed. "yes. we have all his medical reports."The butler reached into his jacket. He pulled out a folder. It was thick."Would you like to see my proof?" the butler asked.He opened the folder. Papers fell out. Photos. Legal papers. Birth records. A letter with the Ashford family seal on it.The butler held