VANESSA POV

Goodness… my body was killing me today. Somehow it felt even worse than the injuries from the car accident.

A quiet groan escaped my lips as I shifted carefully against the pillows, soreness spreading through nearly every inch of my body. My thighs burned, my back ached, and even moving too quickly sent sharp reminders of everything Kay had done to me last night.

Heat crept into my cheeks instantly.

I pushed the thoughts away before they could consume me again and ran my fingers through my messy black hair while scrolling through my emails on my phone.

I needed to visit my company.

Maybe if I went there, I could uncover more information about my accident… or at least find something everyone else was desperately trying to keep hidden from me.

My thumb froze suddenly when I noticed the sender of the newest email.

Metropolitan Police Department.

My heart stopped.

A strange sense of dread crawled slowly down my spine as I opened the email.

Dear Miss Mullerova,

I hope you are recovering well.

We are contacting you regarding the ongoing investigation connected to your accident. Earlier today, our team recovered additional evidence that may be relevant to your case, including several photographs, surveillance captures, and newly uncovered information connected to the individuals involved.

Some of the recovered materials appear to have been taken shortly before the accident occurred.

Due to the sensitive nature of the evidence, we are unable to attach the files directly to this email. Instead, we have uploaded everything to a secured police database for you to review privately.

Please use the secure link below to access the files:

[SECURE CASE FILE ACCESS]

We strongly recommend reviewing the information as soon as possible. If you recognize anything or remember additional details after viewing the files, please contact us immediately.

Detective Ryan Miller

Metropolitan Police Department

Special Investigations Unit

I stared at the email for almost five full minutes, my pulse thundering violently in my ears.

Then finally, I clicked the link.

The secure police database loaded slowly on my phone screen, protected behind multiple passwords and verification codes before finally opening into a dark interface displaying the Metropolitan Police Department logo across the top.

CASE FILE: V. MULLEROVA

STATUS: ACTIVE INVESTIGATION

ACCESS LEVEL: RESTRICTED

My stomach twisted painfully.

Beneath the case summary sat several folders.

PHOTOGRAPHS

SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE

WITNESS REPORTS

VEHICLE ANALYSIS

PERSONS OF INTEREST

My fingers hesitated over the screen for only a second before I pressed the first folder.

PHOTOGRAPHS.

The first image loaded instantly.

And my blood ran cold.

It was me.

The picture had clearly been taken from far away—grainy, zoomed in—but there was no mistaking it. I was leaving my company building wearing a black blazer over a white silk blouse, sunglasses covering half my face.

The timestamp in the corner made my chest tighten painfully.

Three days before the accident.

I swallowed hard and swiped to the next image.

Another photo of me appeared.

This time I was entering a restaurant late at night. My expression looked tense. Nervous. Like I had already known something bad was about to happen.

But I wasn’t alone.

Jake stood beside me.

His hand rested possessively against my lower back while a black cap and mask partially hid his face. To anyone else, the image would probably look romantic.

But I remembered the truth.

That night had ended in a fight.

A horrible one.

I continued scrolling, my breathing becoming heavier with every image.

Then another picture appeared.

Emily.

She stood outside the restaurant while speaking on her phone, irritation written clearly across her face. The timestamp showed she had arrived nearly twenty minutes after Jake and I.

Then came the next photo.

Jake and Emily together.

Too close.

Far too comfortable.

The image looked like it had been secretly captured through a car window. Jake’s hand tightly gripped Emily’s wrist while she stared up at him with red watery eyes.

My chest tightened painfully.

But not because my heart was breaking.

No.

Because seeing the proof brought back every lie they ever told me.

Every manipulation.

Every fake smile.

Every moment they looked me directly in the eyes pretending they loved me while betraying me behind my back.

I clicked on the surveillance folder next.

Several short video clips appeared on the screen.

The first video showed underground parking footage from the night before the accident.

I watched silently as my own figure stepped out of the elevator.

Then Jake appeared only seconds later.

The footage had no audio, but it didn’t matter.

I remembered everything perfectly.

The argument.

The accusations.

The panic in Jake’s eyes when he realized I knew about him and Emily.

The way he grabbed my arm hard enough to leave bruises while begging me not to expose him publicly.

My breathing turned uneven.

I clicked the next clip quickly.

Traffic surveillance footage appeared.

A black SUV followed my car through three separate intersections.

The same SUV.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The timestamp showed the vehicle had tailed me for almost forty minutes before the accident happened.

A cold chill slithered down my spine.

The police had digitally highlighted the SUV with a red marker.

UNKNOWN DRIVER.

My fingers trembled slightly as I opened the witness reports.

Most of them were basic statements until one sentence nearly stopped my heart.

Witness Statement #14:

Victim appeared distressed prior to collision. Witness reported hearing victim yelling during phone conversation moments before impact. Victim repeatedly stated: “Stop following me.”

My grip tightened painfully around the phone.

Because I remembered that call.

I remembered exactly who had been on the other side of the line.

Emily.

I could still hear her voice echoing inside my head.

Cold.

Threatening.

Cruel.

“You should’ve just stayed quiet, Vanessa.”

A wave of nausea hit me so hard I nearly dropped my phone onto the bed.

I immediately clicked the final folder.

PERSONS OF INTEREST.

Jake Yang.

Emily Ryder.

Only their names appeared beneath the investigation notice.

No charges filed.

Under ongoing review.

And Kay’s name wasn’t anywhere.

Not in the surveillance footage.

Not in the witness reports.

Not in the photographs.

Not in the police investigation.

Nothing.

Which meant only one thing.

Kay truly had nothing to do with my accident.

My throat tightened painfully as I leaned back against the headboard, staring blankly at the screen while my pulse thundered violently inside my chest.

They really believed I had lost my memories.

Jake.

Emily.

Everyone.

A shaky breath escaped my lips as I slowly locked my phone screen.

Good.

Let them keep believing it.

Because the second either of them realized I remembered everything…

I had no doubt they would destroy me to protect themselves.

Suddenly, I heard approaching footsteps outside the bedroom door.

Panic shot through me instantly.

I quickly exited the police database and moved the email into a hidden encrypted folder connected to one of my private accounts—an account nobody knew existed.

If either Jake or Emily found out I had evidence against them…

They would end me.

The bedroom door opened a second later.

Kay walked inside carrying a glass of water and painkillers in his hands. The moment I saw him, I forced a soft smile onto my face even while my mind kept replaying the photographs and memories that now refused to leave me alone.

“Are you okay, my love?” Kay asked immediately, concern filling his voice as he handed me the pills and water.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” I replied quietly before swallowing the medication.

His eyes lingered on my face for several long seconds like he knew something was wrong.

Then finally, he nodded slightly.

“Alright.”

His hand lifted gently to my cheek, thumb softly caressing my skin before he leaned down to press a kiss against my forehead.

Warmth spread unexpectedly through my chest.

“Can you do me a favor, Jake?” I asked softly.

God, I hated calling him that.

“Of course, love,” he answered immediately without hesitation.

I studied his expression carefully before speaking again.

“Can we visit my company tomorrow? Maybe… maybe it’ll help me recover more memories.”

For a split second, something dark flashed behind his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.

But then he smiled softly.

“Of course we can go.”

Relief flooded through me instantly.

At least now I had a chance to investigate further without raising suspicion.

A sudden knock sounded against the bedroom door, making me flinch.

Kay sighed heavily in annoyance.

“He’s seriously starting to piss me off,” he muttered under his breath.

Despite everything, a small laugh escaped me.

For a brief moment, some of the fear inside me faded away.

“Can we come in?!” Jake’s voice called from the other side of the door again.

“As I already said before, kay,” Kay answered coldly, “we’ll come downstairs when we want to.”

I heard Jake groan loudly in frustration outside the room.

“It’s already fucking afternoon, jake!”

Kay cursed quietly beneath his breath before completely ignoring him.

Instead, he climbed onto the bed beside me and wrapped one arm securely around my waist, pulling me gently against his side.

“Let’s just ignore him,” he murmured softly against my hair.

And for the first time since opening those files…

I actually wanted to.