After losing my memory, I divorced Don

I went to the small art gallery where I worked as a curator, seeking the comfort and routine of familiarity.

A brand-new, matte black armored SUV was parked menacingly in front of the glass doors.

Caspian leaned against the hood, radiating a lethal aura.

His mere presence terrified the morning commuters on the sidewalk, forcing them to cross the street just to avoid his line of sight.

He pushed himself off the car the moment he saw me.

"Did you block my number?" he demanded.

His tone was fiercely controlled, masking a dangerous vulnerability beneath.

I didn't break my stride, walking right past him toward the gallery entrance.

"Yes," I replied coldly. "I needed a break anyway. Why don't we just go see the mob lawyers now and get the divorce settlement sorted out?"

The air around him turned heavy and freezing.

He moved faster than I could react, stepping in front of the door and blocking my path with his broad chest.

"Unblock me," he ordered.

"Sorry." I admitted fault bluntly. "I shouldn't have blocked you."

His expression briefly softened, taking on a stiff, unfamiliar huskiness of a forced apology: "I'm sorry, darling, you know I love you. I never broke my oath."

I rolled my eyes: "Blocking you just makes signing the divorce papers inconvenient."

Caspian's face darkened: "Add my number back."

I swiped at my phone: "I can't. I forgot your number."

Caspian went terrifyingly stiff.

He stepped into my space, bending down until his face was mere inches from mine.

"Did you really forget?"

His gaze was sharp as a blade, as if trying to slice through me to find any trace of a lie.

I avoided staring into those dark depths, merely brushing past his shoulder: "That's right. I forgot."

"How could you forget? You loved me so much. Darling, do you have amnesia?"

My body froze: "We're done. Why would I bother remembering your phone number?"

But he moved with the swiftness of a predator.

Before I even registered it, he had snatched my phone away.

"Give that back!" I snapped.

He ignored me, tapping the screen to wake it up.

His thumb punched in his own birthday.

The screen buzzed aggressively, signaling an incorrect passcode.

"Did you change it?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

I remained stubbornly silent.

As he stared at the lock screen, a flash of genuine pain crossed his rugged, chiseled face.

He punched in another six-digit sequence.

The date of our Mafia blood oath.

Failed.

He stared at the device for a very, very long time.

Then, his long fingers entered a new set of numbers.

My birthday.

The phone clicked unlocked.

Caspian gave me a dark, terrified look that made my breath catch in my throat.

His thumb moved rapidly across the screen.

He instantly reset the passcode to our wedding anniversary.

"Give it back." I snatched the phone angrily from his hand.

I tapped the screen to open my messages, but it was locked again.

I quickly typed in my birthday.

Failed.

"What did you do?" I demanded furiously.

Caspian just stood there, watching me.

I stared at the screen, genuinely confused.

I tried his birthday again. Still nothing.

I looked up at him, anger boiling over.

"What numbers did you use?"

Caspian's gaze sharpened, cutting like a razor.

He saw the genuine confusion in my raw reaction.

I watched his sharp mind piece the scattered fragments together.

"Ever since you woke up from your suicide attempt, you've been like a different person," he stated with absolute certainty. "Sienna, it seems you have amnesia..."

I stumbled backward, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I lied desperately to cover up my memory loss.

"I didn't lose anything," I snarled. "I just got a wake-up call after surviving a near-death experience, and I never want to be your submissive pawn ever again."

I truly did have amnesia, and Caspian had caught on to the clues.

The divorce proceedings slowed to a crawl.

After work, I unlocked my door, but the moment my heel crossed the threshold, I gasped; the fingers gripping the doorknob instantly lost all their warmth.

Caspian was sitting on my cheap fabric sofa.

He sat there with his long legs bent at an awkward angle. His worsted wool suit clashed entirely with the peeling wallpaper, yet he commanded the cramped space as if sitting on a throne.

"How did you get in?" I demanded.

"I paid off your landlord."

He said it so casually, as if bribing his way into the building was an everyday occurrence.

I dropped my bag onto the scuffed floor, holding out a trembling hand.

"Give me the keys," I ordered. "I'm changing the locks tomorrow."

Caspian ignored my threat.

He stood up slowly, his massive frame making the already tight room feel even more suffocating.

He was convinced he knew the truth—that I hadn't stopped loving him, I had just forgotten.

"Sienna, exactly how much have you forgotten?"

His voice was a soft, almost dangerously low whisper.

I backed toward the door.

"I told you, I haven't forgotten anything," I snapped, my heart racing. "I just don't love you anymore."

Caspian lunged.

He moved so fast, far quicker than I could react, it was practically lethal.

He wrapped his thick arms securely around my waist, lifting my feet entirely off the ground.

He buried his face against my stomach, pulling me flush against his hard body.

"We will deal with this when you remember," he murmured to me.

"Let me go!"

I struggled to break free from his vice-like grip, my fists pounding against his broad shoulders.

"If you don't love me, then let me leave!" I screamed. "I've always wanted to escape you!"

Caspian only held me tighter, completely unfazed by my frantic hitting.

It was infuriating; he was dismissing my genuine outbursts as nothing more than a lover's quarrel.

He set me down, then slowly slid his large hands up to cup my face, forcing me to look at him.

"I need to explain the shadows that ruined us," he began.

I tried to turn my head away, but his thumbs pressed firmly against my jawline.

His voice was hoarse and laced with pain.

"Elena's grandfather saved my father from an assassination attempt," he explained, his gaze piercing. "The blood debt bound me to protect her family's bloodline."

He stared deeply into my eyes, searching for a shred of understanding.

"I swear on my life, Sienna, there is no love between her and me. Only duty."

I scoffed at him, scoffed at his twisted mafia logic.

"A duty that places another woman's life above your wife's means this marriage is worthless," I lashed out.

I shoved hard against his chest, but he didn't budge.

"If she is your duty, then go fulfill it, and leave me out of it."

Caspian gently pinched my cheek, treating my anger like a child throwing a tantrum.

He let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"I'm sorry I kept quiet in the past," he whispered. "I thought you understood the rules of our world."

He leaned down and pressed his warm lips against my forehead in a lingering kiss.

"I swear to you," he murmured against my skin, "never again."