Cara POV
Charles and Edward stepped back into the room, both looking very tense.
My gaze darted to Edward who stood possessively beside Violet.
Cool, he is sticking to his story.
My eyes went to Violet's arm as she snaked it around Edward's.
I tried to push down my emotions from rising to the top then I looked expectantly at Charles, he was the more mature one, he would end this farce.
"Cara, listen to me."
He took a deep, shuddering breath. I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his sharp corporate mask cracking for the first time since I'd known him.
My heart started to beat erratically.
Charles looked like a man about to confess a murder, or perhaps something even more worse.
He was opening his mouth to speak, when the world suddenly tilted.
At first, I thought it was the painkillers. I expected a wave of dizziness, but everything went eerily silent.
Then, the white walls of the hospital vibrated. A tray of medical instruments toppled over in the corner, the silver tools clattering noisily.
Then, the sirens started. A high, piercing wail that sliced through the sudden chaos.
"What's happening?" Edward's face went the color of the hospital sheets.
All his bravado, his "puppy dog" act, vanished in an instant, replaced by a raw, naked panic.
The door flung open, banging against the wall with a violent crack. A nurse, her hair disheveled and eyes wide, leaned into the room.
"We have to evacuate right away! It's an earthquake! Move, now!"
She didn't stay to help. She didn't have time.
She disappeared into the hallway where the sound of running feet and shouting voices was growing louder.
"Edward, I'm so scared!" Violet whimpered.
She didn't look at me. She didn't check if her sick "best friend" could even stand. She reached out for Edward, her fingers digging into his sleeve.
Without a moment's hesitation, without even looking in my direction, Edward swept Violet into his arms like some noble knight rescuing the princess.
He did not even spare a glance of concern for his own brother, he simply ran out of the room to safety.
I stared at the empty doorway for a full minute, a coldness spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.
Even though my mind was still foggy from the drugs, I tried to process the image.
My boyfriend, had just abandoned me in a collapsing building to save another woman.
My prank had turned to a beast I could no longer control.
Cussing him in my head wasn't enough. I wanted to scream, but my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper, choked with tears.
Then the ground shook again, the violent trembling that woke me from my reverie.
Charles also seemed to snap back into action.
He didn't hesitate. He just rushed to my side and slid his arms under me, lifting me off the bed as if I weighed nothing.
He held me tight against his chest, his heart thumping a steady, powerful rhythm against my ear.
"Hold on tight, Cara," he commanded.
Next thing, he was running down the stairs, dodging panicking patients and staff, while I remained silent.
Every bounce in his arms sent a fresh spike of pain through my bandaged head, but I was too emotionally drained to even wince.
When we got out of the hospital, I looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse of Edward's sandy coloured hair or Violet's strawberry blonde hair, there was nothing.
It was a simple, brutal realization for me.
My boyfriend didn't care if I died. He hadn't even checked to see if I was okay.
He had saved Violet as if she were the one he was crazy about. As if she were the girlfriend, and I was the stranger.
I was forced to deal with the fact that I had been misguided about our relationship.
I just wanted to play a harmless little prank, I thought bitterly as the dust tickled my nose. I didn't know I was playing with a man who would leave me to die.
Looking up at Charles, his jaw set in a grim line of determination, I felt dizzy.
Was this some cosmic punishment for lying?
But a small, stubborn part of my brain told me the truth: Edward was taking advantage of my "amnesia" to pull a fast one on me.
What chilled me to the bone was how quickly he had made the plan to push me to his brother, as if he and Violet had been seeing each other behind my back already.
I had given them a chance to flaunt their affair unashamedly in my face.
The humiliation felt like a hot stone in my belly.
In a wild twist, Charles's arms strangely felt like the only safe place left in a world that was literally falling apart.
* * *
Charles POV
The ride was a blur of traffic and the low hum of the car's engine that lulled me into a space where nothing mattered.
Like a dutiful boyfriend, Charles had insisted on taking me home, saying that the hospital was obviously not safe.
Since I had been about to be discharged, I did not argue. Plus, I had been too mentally drained.
I must have drifted off, because when I felt the car come to a smooth stop, I felt more alert than I had all day.
I raised my head, looking out the tinted window, and my brow furrowed.
"But... this is not my apartment," I blurted out.
The silence that followed was heavy. Charles turned in the driver's seat, his eyes narrowing as he peered into my face.
The "Corporate Devil" was back, his gaze sharp and calculating.
"How do you remember that this is not your apartment, Cara?"
My heart did a frantic somersault. I had slipped. The "Amnesia" mask had cracked.
"I... Erm..." I stuttered, my mind racing for a save. "I just meant... it doesn't feel right. This place looks... it looks like I can't afford it."
It was the truth. The house before us was a magnificent brick estate, sprawling and ancient, with ivy climbing the walls and a driveway that screamed "old money."
It was the castle of a person with great means.
Charles looked into my eyes for a long, agonizing moment.
He looked like he was about to call my bluff, to demand I stop the charade.
Then, he slowly turned his face toward the house, his expression softening into something unreadable.
"I just felt it would be better for you to recover here, at my house," he explained.
He turned back to me, fixing me with a strange, dark look that sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn't the look of a boss. It was the look of a man claiming his possesion.
"You are my girlfriend, after all," he said, his voice dropping into a husky register. "I'm supposed to take care of you. Isn't that right?"
I stared at him, trapped in the car, trapped in the lie I had foolishly spun.
I was in his territory now, and the "harmless prank" had officially become a war.