It was 2 a.m. when Ashley was roused by a faint sound downstairs. She lay still for a moment, listening—something, or someone, was moving in the living room.
Silently, she slipped out of bed and crept downstairs. There, bathed in moonlight, sat Lucas on the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands gripping his head. He looked like a man in pain, utterly alone.
"Lucas?" she whispered.
He looked up sharply. For an instant, his eyes held a strange, unfamiliar sharpness—then softened back into the gentle calm she knew.
"Ashley," he said hoarsely. "Did I wake you?"
"Are you alright?" she asked, moving to sit beside him. "Another nightmare?"
Lucas was quiet for a long moment, then nodded. "Fragments. Just flashes. But they felt real."
"What kind of fragments?" Ashley gently rubbed his back.
"There was a huge office. Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the New York skyline. A man stood in front of me, saying… 'Alexander, you are the hope of this family.'" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Alexander… that name feels familiar."
Ashley's heart skipped. Alexander was no ordinary name.
"Anything else?" she asked, trying to stay calm.
"There was a woman. Beautiful, but her eyes were cold. She said… 'If you don't cooperate, don't blame me for being ruthless.'" Lucas frowned. "The strange thing is—I was afraid of her. Really afraid."
Ashley recalled Amelia's words from earlier. The unease in her heart deepened.
"Lucas," she said softly, taking his hand, "if you remember anything—anything at all—you can tell me."
He stared into her eyes. "What if I'm not the man you think I am?"
"Are you lying to me right now?" Ashley countered.
"No," he said firmly. "My feelings for you are real. But I'm scared. Scared the truth might make you leave me."
"I need the truth, Lucas," she said gently. "Not because I don't trust you—but because someone is already investigating you."
His expression turned serious. "What do you mean?"
"Didn't you catch Amelia's tone earlier?" Ashley explained. "She was probing you. She knows something."
Lucas stood and began pacing. His movements were precise, almost instinctively authoritative.
"I need time," he said finally. "Give me a little time. I'll figure this out."
"Alright," Ashley nodded. "But in the meantime, we need to be careful—especially around Amelia."
The next morning, while making breakfast, Ashley overheard Lucas on the phone in the next room.
"Yes, I need you to check something for me… What? What did you say?" His voice grew tense. "That's impossible. How could they…? Alright, I understand."
Ashley quietly shuffled some utensils, pretending not to notice.
"Tell Thomas I can't reveal my identity yet… Yes, I know time's short, but now isn't the time."
Thomas. She made a mental note of the name.
When Lucas returned and saw her watching him, he gave a sheepish smile. "Work call. I, uh… I've contacted a few people to see if they can help figure out who I am."
"Oh?" Ashley handed him a cup of coffee. "Any progress?"
"Not yet," he replied, taking the cup. "But soon, I hope."
Just then, Eric entered through the front door.
"Morning," he greeted. "Lucas, I need a word with you."
"What is it?" Lucas asked.
"I ran into an old colleague at the hospital yesterday," Eric said gravely. "He works at a private clinic in New York. He mentioned someone's been looking for a missing person—and the description sounds an awful lot like you."
Lucas paled. "What description?"
"Young male, black hair, green eyes, about six feet tall, slight New York accent. Most notably—possible case of selective amnesia."
"Selective amnesia?" Ashley repeated.
Eric nodded. "It usually follows severe psychological trauma. The person forgets specific painful memories, but retains everyday knowledge and skills."
Lucas was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "What if I told you… I might be from New York?"
"Then we'd ask what brought you here," Ashley replied calmly. "And what you're so afraid of."
"I think…" Lucas hesitated. "I think I may be caught up in something dangerous."
Just then, the sound of a car engine broke the silence. Ashley looked out the window and saw a black sedan pulling up in front of the house.
"We have visitors," she said.
Lucas, however, reacted with alarm. He rushed to the window. When he saw the car, he went white.
"I need to hide," he said urgently. "Ashley, if they ask about me—tell them you haven't seen me."
"What?" she asked, confused. "What's going on?"
"There's no time," he said, gripping her hand. "Trust me—it's for your protection."
And with that, he slipped out the back door.
Ashley and Eric exchanged a look. A knock came at the front door.
"I'll get it," Eric said.
Two men in black suits stood outside—straight out of a spy thriller.
"Good afternoon," one of them said. "We're looking for a missing person. This is his photo."
Ashley glanced at it—and her stomach turned. It was Lucas, without question, but dressed in an expensive suit, with a cold, commanding presence.
"Sorry," Eric said calmly. "Never seen him."
"Are you sure?" the second man asked. "He may be using an alias. He might claim to have amnesia."
"I said we haven't seen him," Eric replied sharply. "Who are you, exactly? Do you have any authority to question us?"
The two men exchanged a look. "We're private investigators. Hired by his family."
"Then show me your credentials," Eric demanded.
"They're… in the car," one of them muttered.
"Then go get them," Eric said firmly. "Or I'll call the police."
Clearly not wanting trouble, the men backed off. "Very well. If you see him, please contact us."
They handed over a business card and left.
Once their car pulled away, Lucas slipped back inside through the rear door.
"They're gone?" he asked.
"Yes," Ashley said, fixing him with a firm stare. "Now you need to talk."
Lucas took a deep breath. "Alright. I'll tell you what I know—what little I remember."
They all sat down in the living room.
"Three months ago, I woke up in a New York hospital," Lucas began. "The doctors said I'd been in a serious car accident, had a mild concussion. But… something didn't add up."
"Why not?" Ashley asked.
"Because of the injuries. They weren't consistent with a car crash. They looked more like… like I'd been beaten."
Ashley sucked in a breath. "God…"
"I overheard things in the hospital," Lucas continued. "People talking about controlling me. I panicked—and escaped in the middle of the night. I traveled west until I ended up here."
"Do you know who you really are?" Eric asked.
"I think my name is Alexander," Lucas said slowly. "And I believe I'm from a wealthy family. But I have no idea why anyone would want to hurt me."
Ashley said, "Those men claimed to be hired by your family."
"If they're really my family," Lucas countered, "why send people who look like hitmen? Why not come themselves? Why sneak around?"
It was a good question. Ashley's mind was spinning with doubts.
"There's one more thing," Lucas added. "I think Amelia is involved."
"What?" Ashley stared at him in disbelief.
"She's been watching me too closely. And the questions she asks… it's like she already knows."
Ashley thought back over Amelia's behavior. The more she reflected, the more it unsettled her.
"We need to investigate her," she said finally. "But carefully."
"Yes," Lucas agreed. "I'm worried she might pose a threat—to you."
"I can take care of myself," Ashley said firmly. "But right now, what's our next move?"
"First, we find out who those men really are," Eric said. "That business card might be a lead."
Ashley picked it up. It read: Brown Investigations, with a phone number.
"I'll look into the company," Eric said. "I've got some contacts at the hospital who might help."
"Thank you," Lucas said sincerely. "But I don't want you getting hurt because of me."
"We're family," Ashley said, taking his hand. "Family protects each other."
Lucas looked at her, emotion flickering in his eyes. "Ashley… if one day you find out I'm not who you thought—will you still say that?"
"That depends on who you are," she replied, echoing her earlier words. "If you're a good man, then no problem. If you're a bad man…"
"What if I am?" he asked softly.
"Then I'll find a way to make you better," Ashley said with a smile. "So far, you've helped me, saved me, protected me. Sounds like a good man to me."
Lucas held her gaze. "Meeting you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me."
"Save that line," Ashley teased. "Say it again after we solve all this."
But deep down, she knew. Whatever secrets Lucas was hiding, her heart already belonged to him.
Night fell again. Ashley lay in bed, turning over everything that had happened. Lucas's past was far more complicated than she'd imagined. And Amelia—her behavior grew more suspicious by the day.
She made a decision. Starting tomorrow, she would begin investigating Amelia's background herself. If the woman was hiding something—Ashley would find out what it was.
Just as she began to doze off, her phone rang.
"Hello?" she answered groggily.
"Ashley. It's me," came Lucas's voice. "I'm outside."
"What? Why?" she sat upright.
"I don't think it's safe to stay in the house," he said. "I need to protect you."
"Don't be ridiculous—come inside," she urged. "We'll figure this out together."
"No," Lucas said firmly. "I've made my decision. Tomorrow I'm leaving town. I need to investigate the truth."
"You can't just leave!" Ashley cried.
"I have to," he said. "It's the only way we can truly be together."
"Lucas, please—listen—"
"I love you, Ashley," he said, cutting her off. "And because I love you, I can't let you be in danger."
The line went dead.
Ashley ran to the window just in time to see his silhouette vanish into the night.
A wave of dread settled over her chest.The storm wasn't over.It was only just beginning.