Melissa Graham felt like her eyelids weighed a ton, and every joint in her body ached like crazy. It took all her strength just to pry her eyes open.
But the moment she did, the pain hit her like a tidal wave, and suddenly, the image of being pushed off a building kept looping in her head like a broken film.
Melissa rubbed her temples warily and sat up, scanning the room. Then it was like a thunderclap went off in her brain. Everything around her looked painfully familiar. Of course it did. Eight years ago, this was the room where she'd been drugged... and caught in bed by Nathan Blackwood.
Wait—eight years ago? A rush of confusion hit her. Her body was starting to burn up too, and it felt disturbingly identical to the way it had felt that night.
No time to think. Her face was flushed, breath coming fast, her legs almost giving out from under her. That night had left a scar deep enough to haunt her for years. Being back in this room with the same sensation crawling over her skin felt too real.
Dragging her heavy limbs, Melissa stumbled out of the hotel.
The street scene outside was bizarre as if someone had slapped a retro filter over reality. It all felt off. Forcing herself to stay alert, she managed to hail a cab.
The driver glanced back at her swaying, dazed form and asked if Melissa needed a hospital. She didn't answer at first. Her eyes were glued to the tiny digital clock inside the cab. Her fists clenched tight at what she saw. It was like watching her own funeral happen in real time.
"So it really is eight years ago... Am I dreaming? Don't people say your life flashes before your eyes right before death? Is this what that is—am I stuck because I can't let go?" Her murmur was so low it sounded like it wasn't meant to be heard, yet it still made the cabbie's face go ghost-white.
It was barely dark out, and he'd already picked up a passenger this unsettling? Not wanting to linger, he hit the gas and dropped her off at the apartment she had mumbled to him.
Back inside the apartment, Melissa collapsed on the couch, exhaling hard. She checked the time—8 PM. Good. There were still less than sixty minutes before Emily Harris would drag Nathan to that hotel, expecting a scandal.
She stared at the ticking second hand of the wall clock. Each click sounded like it was syncing perfectly with her heartbeat—loud, steady, and suffocating.
Sure enough, not long after she left the hotel, Emily showed up with Nathan in tow.
Emily hadn't even gotten a chance to speak to the hotel staff before Nathan kicked the door open himself, scaring her stiff. But after a second of shock, Emily quickly broke into a bright smile and followed him in eagerly.
Then—disappointment. The room was tidy. Spotless even. The only person in there was a confused-looking man who stood up in alarm when he saw Emily.
Emily subtly shot him a warning look, and the man froze, reining in his instinct to walk over and demand answers.
"Where is she? Didn't you say Melissa was here?" Nathan's voice was icy as he turned his head sharply, glaring at Emily.
"Well... listen, Nathan, maybe she left earlier..." Emily snapped her gaze at the man again, then quickly trailed after Nathan, lowering her voice.
Nathan didn't wait around. He marched down to the hotel lobby, picked a quiet corner, and sat down. He turned to Ryan Clarke and said coldly, "Go check the surveillance footage. I want to know whether Melissa actually entered that room or not."
"Yes, sir. On it." Ryan answered crisply, then headed straight to deal with the hotel staff. It wasn't even ten minutes before he came back holding a tablet in his hands.
"Mr. Blackwood, here's the footage from an hour ago. Please take a look."Nathan took the tablet, his slender fingers tapping the play button as a deep frown settled on his face. Emily immediately leaned in close to watch, but the second Nathan let out a displeased snort, she quickly backed off a bit. She knew she'd just overstepped by getting too close to his personal space, and he clearly didn't like it.
The thought made Emily boil with jealousy. To her, Melissa was like an untamed cat—arrogant, impossible to catch, yet somehow hogging all the attention while pretending not to care.
Craning her neck, Emily stared hard at the footage, her eyes glued to the screen. When she saw Melissa stumbling out of the hotel room looking panicked and weak, her irritation morphed into smug satisfaction.
"Look, it's Melissa! What's wrong with her? She looks like she can barely walk!" Emily blurted out, pointing at the screen excitedly near Nathan's ear.
But Nathan, already fuming, gave her a cold side glance. The look alone was enough to shut her up on the spot.
"Car key," Nathan ordered sharply as he stood up.
Ryan wasted no time handing it over. Without a word or a backward glance, Nathan strode out of the hotel.
Emily tried to follow, only to be blocked by Ryan. His voice was terse. "Miss Harris, Mr. Blackwood's dealing with personal matters. It's best if unrelated people don't tag along. Please go back."
The word "unrelated" hit Emily like a slap. She clenched her fists, forcing out a bitter smile. Deep down, she swore that one day, she'd be the one standing at Nathan's side, looking down on everyone who dismissed her.
Nathan drove straight to Melissa's apartment and started banging on the door, his voice laced with anger as he shouted for her to open up. Inside, the sound made Melissa shiver. Her body was burning up, and she knew she couldn't afford any more complications. So, she ignored him—didn't speak, didn't move. She just hoped to ride it out alone.
"Melissa, open this door. Right now. Or deal with the consequences," came Nathan's cold, commanding voice. Every word seemed to seep through the door like ice, cutting right to her core.
"I'm not opening the door," she replied from inside, her voice firm despite her struggle. "If you want to stand there all night, go ahead." She was trying her best to stay lucid, the memories of Nathan's controlling nature in her past life flooding back. A flicker of darkness crossed her eyes.
"Hah. You really want to defy me, Melissa?" Nathan said coolly. At his words, every hair on Melissa's body stood up. She held her breath, straining to hear every sound outside.
For a second, it went quiet. She actually thought maybe he left—until the faint beeping of the keypad being pressed gave him away.
Melissa let out a defeated sigh. Dragging herself to her feet, she looked up just in time to see Nathan's towering figure stepping in. He smirked at her and said, "Seriously? You're still using the same password for everything."
"Get out," Melissa said, her voice weak but determined. "I don't have time for your nonsense." She tried to head to her bedroom, but Nathan stepped forward and blocked her path.
Looking at the flush on her cheeks, Nathan's anger flared even stronger. He grabbed her chin, his thumb brushing her lips as he leaned in with mocking eyes. "So much for that prim and proper act, huh? Who knew you'd be this desperate?"
Melissa was already losing it. The drug in her system driving her crazy, and Nathan's scent only made things worse. Every part of her screamed to reach out, to cling to him, to soak in some relief.
But no. Not him. Not Nathan. She forced herself to hold onto reason. She had to draw the line. Without thinking, she bit down on his finger, hard, hoping the pain would push him away.
To her horror, it had the opposite effect.
Nathan's eyes narrowed with heat and danger. He actually thought she was provoking him on purpose. His nerves lit up at the pain and warmth coming from her mouth.
"You think this is a game?" he muttered, and in the next second, he scooped her up and carried her straight into the bedroom.
