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I Faked Amnesia to Test My Boyfriend,Then Found His Mistress in Our Home Novel Cover

I Faked Amnesia to Test My Boyfriend,Then Found His Mistress in Our Home

Saved from a Southeast Asian black-market auction, she spent five years believing her billionaire rescuer was her devoted savior. But a harmless hospital prank shatters her reality. When she fakes memory loss, her boyfriend’s secretary steps forward to claim him, cold-heartedly relegating the protagonist to the status of a mere housekeeper. Worst of all, the man she trusted completely agrees. In this tense modern romance novel, a playful test uncovers a devastating web of lies.
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Chapter 1

My boyfriend bought me at an underground human auction in a Southeast Asian black-market district.

From that moment on, he became my only salvation, the last person I had left in this world.

And he was good to me. So good it felt like he would have plucked the stars from the sky and laid them at my feet, just to see me smile.

Until the day I got hurt and ended up in the hospital.

When I woke up, I had the sudden urge to play a little prank on the man I'd been with for five years.

"Who are you? Where am I? What happened to me?"

My boyfriend froze. But before he could speak, his secretary stepped forward and curled her arm around his.

"This is my boyfriend. You're his housekeeper."

"You got hurt yesterday. We're the ones who brought you to the hospital."

This time, I was the one who froze.

My boyfriend recovered fast. He picked up right where his secretary left off.

"Lena's right. You're my housekeeper."

……

I didn't know what to say. I just sat there on the hospital bed, motionless, silent.

A flicker of guilt crossed Barnaby Heath's eyes.

"Caroline Manning, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lena Floyd immediately patted the back of his hand, her touch soothing, possessive.

"Oh, Barnaby, she just woke up. She probably hasn't gotten her bearings yet."

"Come on, let's step out and let Caroline rest."

The moment the words left her mouth, Lena grabbed Barnaby and pulled him out of the room without sparing me a single glance.

Under the blanket, my hands clenched into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. A bone-deep chill seeped through me, flooding every limb.

I threw back the covers and got out of bed. Through the door, I could hear Barnaby talking to the doctor in the hallway.

"What's her condition? Why doesn't she recognize anyone? How long will this last?"

The doctor held my brain CT scan, his words careful, measured.

"Based on the test results, there's no medical reason for memory loss."

"That said, nothing in medicine is one hundred percent certain. There's a very small probability something like this could occur."

"As for how long it might last, I can't give you a definitive answer. It could be a day, a week, a month."

A calculating look settled over Barnaby's face. Then he took Lena by the arm and walked straight down the corridor without looking back.

I cracked the door open and followed them.

In the stairwell at the end of the hall, Lena wrapped her arms around Barnaby's waist, leaning into him with practiced dependence.

"Barnaby, what if Caroline gets her memory back?"

"Will she blame me? After all, she's your girlfriend. What does that make me?"

Barnaby's gaze softened when he looked at Lena, his eyes full of tenderness. But the instant my name came up, a flash of irritation cut through.

"So what if she gets her memory back? She's been with me for five years. There's no way she'd have the guts to break up with me."

"Can't you see? She's completely devoted to me. She can't survive without me. Besides, she's an orphan with no family. If it weren't for me, she'd have died in that hellhole overseas."

"And she's so easy to handle. When the time comes, I'll just tell her I was joking. She won't say a word."

Lena's face bloomed into a satisfied smile.

"Barnaby, thank you."

Barnaby's hand slid under the hem of Lena's blouse.

"As long as you're happy, I'll do anything."

I couldn't watch another second. I turned and ran back to the hospital room like I was fleeing a fire.

Five years ago, when we first met, Barnaby Heath was the CEO leading his company's team-building trip to that Southeast Asian black-market district.

And me? I was nothing more than a lot about to be auctioned off in an underground club.

An iron shackle chained to my ankle, I stood on that stage, staring out at the crowd in terror, not knowing whose plaything I was about to become.

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