He Faked Amnesia just to Keep Her

Third Person's POV

That night, Hazel didn’t sleep a wink. She tore through the apartment, pulled out every gift Dominic had ever given her, and stuffed them into trash bags. If he was no longer the man she thought he was, she didn’t need reminders of him lying around.

After throwing the bags away, she went out again to pick a gravesite for her mother and buried her beside her father. By the time everything was done, it was already evening. Hazel planned to go home and try to rest, but a familiar Maybach suddenly blocked her path.

Before she could react, Dominic stepped out of the car and grabbed her wrist. “Caroline says you’re holding a grudge and that we should make peace, so she arranged a little gathering. I'm taking you there.”

Hazel pulled and fought, but he was too strong. He dragged her into a private room where his friends, who used to laugh and curry favor with her, clustered around Caroline, doting on her until she couldn’t stop smiling.

It felt like an invisible hand had seized Hazel’s chest. She could barely breathe.

Dominic shoved her toward Caroline and said in a voice that left no room for argument, “Get along with Caroline. Stop making trouble.”

Caroline’s eyes flashed with something sharp. She raised a glass and pushed it in front of Hazel.

“Hazel,” she cooed, “I’ve thought it over. I was wrong before. This one’s for you. Let’s put the past behind us, shall we?”

Hazel dug her fingers into her palm so hard the pain bit through. She would never let those crimes be forgotten. She wanted Caroline to pay with blood, if that was what it took. And she would not spare Dominic either.

Seeing Hazel refuse to play along, Caroline lifted the glass as if to drink and then, theatrically, poured the whole thing into her own lap.

“Oh, Hazel, I know you hate me, but you don’t have to treat me like this,” she said, feigning hurt. “This dress was a birthday present from Dominic. I hardly ever wear it. I put it on today just to patch things up with you.”

Before Hazel could answer, Dominic’s displeased voice cut in beside her ear. “Hazel! Didn’t I tell you on the way here to behave and not upset Caroline? Did you just ignore me?”

Hazel shot back, “I didn’t do it. Check the cameras if you don’t believe me.”

Dominic’s eyes turned cold. “Do you think being righteous clears you of suspicion?” he snapped. “Apologize to Caroline. Now!”

“I won’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” Hazel shot back.

Dominic’s patience vanished. He sneered, “If you won’t apologize, then drink everything on that table.”

The bottles on the table were high-proof liquors that would make a non-drinker sick and could tear a stomach lining apart. Hazel was someone who never touched alcohol. A single bottle would likely make her vomit blood.

“You know I don’t drink,” she protested, certain he knew this.

But Dominic, caught in anger, didn’t notice the tremor in her voice. He barked orders, and two men held her down while another forced a bottle to her lips and poured.

“Hazel,” he warned, voice flat and merciless, “I told you my patience has a limit. Don’t push my limits.”