Chapter 3

The SUV tore through the city, finally braking in front of a crumbling, filthy apartment block on the fringes of the city.

Julian shoved me up the graffiti-stained stairs and banged on a rusted metal door.

A disheveled, hollow-eyed man with an obvious limp pulled it open. He reeked of cheap bourbon.

The moment his bloodshot eyes landed on Julian, he recoiled in pure terror, falling backward onto the floor.

"I'm sorry! Summer, I'm so sorry!"

"It was all my fault! I shouldn't have done that to you!"

"Your family already broke my leg! Please, just let me go, don't torture me anymore!"

I backed away in horror, shaking my head violently.

"I don't know him! He isn't Lucas! He can't be Lucas!"

Julian let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Then tell me, Summer. Who is Lucas? What does he look like?"

I choked.

Nothing came out.

I couldn't describe his face.

Yet in my gut, I knew that this pathetic, trembling addict was NOT the man I was yearning for while staring at the cold walls of that mental ward!

"Enough, Summer! Wake up!"

Julian grabbed my shoulders, shaking me hard.

"There is no Lucas Sterling! The words you carved on that hospital wall were the delusions of an unhinged mind! This scumbag right here—Kyle Evans—he was your only boyfriend! He broke you! He ruined you so thoroughly that your mind shattered, and you invented a knight in shining armor named Lucas to cope!"

"Do you know why we found you at that club so easily?"

"Because when you were with him, he forced you to work in an underground lounge for six months just to pay off his debts!"

Julian's voice faded into a deafening ring.

A sudden, blinding spike of agony ripped through my skull.

It felt as though someone was violently hammering a missing puzzle piece into my brain.

Then, the memories rushed in like black water.

I remembered.

God, I remembered.

The drunk on the floor was Kyle Evans. A con artist.

He had charmed me in college, used me, isolated me, convinced me to elope to New York, blew all my money, and forced me into a nightclub to support his addictions.

The club owner was his cousin. I had been trapped in that hell for half a year before Julian tracked me down, rescued me, and crippled Kyle as payback.

No wonder Julian found me so fast.

He knew I was in New York. He knew my trauma history. He just checked every underground club in the district.

If this memory was real...

Then was Lucas a delusion after all?

My world spun.

I vividly remembered the absolute despair of being abused by Kyle. That level of torture was more than enough to drive anyone insane.

"Except..."

My family were still liars!

They had paid off doctors to fry my brain.

And "Nicholas" was an actor! My entire new life was an orchestrated theater production!

"Summer? Did you remember something?"

Noticing my trembling hands, Julian took my palms into his, his voice softening into desperate affection. "Now do you see? I didn't lie to you. We're your family. Why won't you just trust us?"

"Come home with us. Explain things to Nicholas. He truly cares for you. With our backing, the wedding will still happen—"

My fear cracked, snapping into boiling rage.

"Stop it!" I screamed, yanking my hands back.

"Maybe Lucas is fake, but Nicholas Thorne is a complete lie!"

"The man you brought to me isn't Nicholas Thorne! You are all frauds! Every single one of you!"

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I glared at my brother. "Julian, please, I'm begging you. Just tell me the truth! What do you actually want from me?!"