The Amnesiac CEO's Secret Lifeline

Five years after I faked my death. I got cancer. I was dying. I heard the cold, aloof heir to the Hawthorne Group was getting engaged. To the girl he had loved for years.

To celebrate, his company hosted a giveaway online. They were picking one random winner to receive a million dollars.

I hesitated for a long time before leaving a quiet comment. [Happy engagement. I wish you both happiness.] An hour later. Water was spilling over the edge of the bathtub.

My phone rang. "Congratulations! You won the giveaway!" Chapter 1 I didn't die. That phone call saved my life.

On the other end of the line, the representative laughed and congratulated me. "You are incredibly lucky!" Lucky. Me?

I gripped the slick porcelain edge and forced myself to sit up in the tub. The cut on my wrist was a little too deep.

The water in the tub had already turned a pale, sickly red. "Please provide a bank account number. We will transfer the funds within a month.

Plus, you will receive a VIP discount at all Hawthorne Group properties for an entire year!" I should have laughed.

But when I opened my mouth, my voice came out as a weak, raspy whisper. "Thank you. But I probably won't need it." The line went dead silent for two seconds.

Then, the woman's tone shifted. She sounded cautious. "Are you alright, ma'am? Do you need help?" My head spun. The blood loss was getting to me.

I dragged myself over the edge of the tub. Bloody water splashed onto the bathroom tiles. "I'm sorry," I gasped out. "Could you call 911 for me?" The ambulance arrived fast.

I had just left the hospital that morning. By nightfall, I was back. The ER doctor initially gave me a sharp look, clearly disapproving of my suicide attempt.

Then she pulled up my medical records. Her expression froze. "Ms. Miller." She let out a long breath. "I know you are in a lot of pain right now.

But… please hang in there a little longer." I stared at her. Blank. Numb. Someone else had said those exact words to me a long time ago. But back then, I was falling apart.

I couldn't even save myself. So I chose to run away. Like a coward. Avery rushed into the ER a few minutes later.

The second she saw me in the hospital bed, her eyes went red. "Chloe, are you trying to scare me to death?!" Just that morning, I had promised her I would keep up with my treatments.

Even though our current financial situation couldn't even put a dent in those massive medical bills. Avery's parents died in the earthquake five years ago.

We only had each other now. We pooled our meager savings, opened a small flower shop, and barely scraped by. When she first found out about my cancer, Avery cried for hours.

Then she wiped her face and told me she was going to drop out of college. She was going to pick up a parttime job and take care of me fulltime. I couldn't do that to her.

She was so young. She deserved to enjoy college and live a normal life.

Not be dragged down by a dying burden. "I'm sorry," I whispered, reaching out to her. "I was just so tired." Avery broke down crying again.

A sudden commotion erupted outside the ER doors. Paramedics shouted over each other. Someone mentioned a major car crash nearby. They were bringing the victims to our hospital.

A nurse walked in and told me my room was ready. They wheeled me through the main lobby. A massive flatscreen TV on the wall was playing the evening news.

The billionaire CEO of Hawthorne Group, Vincent Hawthorne, was sparing no expense for his upcoming engagement party.

It was set to take place in two months on a tropical island in the Bahamas. On the screen, a reporter held a mic out to him. They asked why he chose that specific time and place.

Chapter 2 On the screen, the notoriously cold and quiet man let out a rare, faint chuckle. "Because she likes it." Because she likes it. I pressed my lips together.

The phone call from earlier played in my head. The rep had a sweet voice. She was genuinely kind. When she realized I had slit my wrist, she panicked.

She stayed on the line the entire time the ambulance drove me to the hospital. Her words kept echoing in my ear. "Please don't die! If you die, what happens to the million dollars?

You are the luckiest person I've ever met. You're going to stay this lucky for the rest of your life!" I had wanted to say thank you. Her company was incredibly generous.

But the words died in my throat the second I remembered who her boss was. Booking a tropical island in the Bahamas just for an engagement party.

Tossing out a million dollars for a random giveaway. Vincent, you were just as reckless with your money as ever. I had always been unlucky. My whole life.

When I was a kid, a psychic told my parents I was cursed with a rough life, destined to be alienated from family.

At my tenth birthday party, I tripped and faceplanted into my massive cake. It was my first major debut in high society, ruined.

During my high school placement tests, severe cramps wrecked my focus. I bombed and missed the cut for the toptier prep school I wanted.

I choked at every single major turning point in my life. I didn't inherit my mother's stunning looks. I didn't get my father's brilliant mind.

Whenever people mentioned me, I was just an accessory. "Oh, Vincent Hawthorne's childhood sweetheart." Vincent was blindingly bright. We were childhood sweethearts.

We were inseparable. The day we finally made our relationship public, Instagram nearly crashed from the gossip. It made perfect sense to everyone.

We were from equally oldmoney families. A perfect match. Until the year we graduated from college. The truth came out. I was the switchedatbirth daughter.

Two pregnant women went into labor at the same time. A nurse made a careless mistake.

My biological parents and the real heiress to the family had already died in a car crash years ago. My entire world flipped upside down. My adoptive mother cried every single day.

When she lost control, she screamed the words that gutted me. Why wasn't it you who died in that crash? My adoptive father would just look at me and sigh.

He gently suggested I move out for a while. The vicious whispers in our social circle. The strange, pitying looks from the maids. Every single detail stacked on my chest.

Suffocating me. Vincent was my only salvation back then. He didn't care about my fake identity. He didn't care about the nasty gossip. He shielded me in public several times.

Mountains of ridiculously expensive gifts flooded into my apartment. It was his way of telling the entire world he still had my back. I used to scold him for wasting his money.

But Vincent would just wrap his arms around me.

He pulled me flush against his solid chest and buried his face in the crook of my neck. "I don't care," he murmured against my skin. "Let them try to say another word about you." We were so young.

We were stupid enough to think love could conquer everything. Then the Hawthorne family stepped in. They cornered him, demanding he dump me. Vincent had just graduated.

He had no real power in the company yet. He worked himself to the bone during that time. He took orders, joined the corporate grind, and fought desperately to prove his worth.

He wanted to earn the right to choose his own wife. Several times for our dates, he would show up hours late. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes.

His broad shoulders slumped. So during dinner, I tried every joke I knew just to make him smile.

Chapter 3 But by the time I racked my brain and finally managed to deliver a punchline, I looked up. Vincent was fast asleep. He was sitting straight up in his chair across from me.

He only got busier. Our conversations dwindled. He still sent me good morning and good night texts. He still asked if I was eating three meals a day.

But I started retreating into silence. At another social event, the thinly veiled insults finally broke me. I locked myself in a bathroom stall and called him. The line connected.

Before I could even let out a sob, his exhausted but gentle voice came through. "Perfect timing.

I was just about to call you." He told me the massive project he was leading finally closed. It was his first major contract since joining the company.

He had worked overtime for a month straight just to lock it down. When the deal was signed, his father gave him a rare compliment. His mother was finally softening her stance on us.

I didn't say a word. He paused. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" "No." I swallowed hard. I clamped down on the massive wave of grief tearing up my chest.

I wanted to tell him they were being so cruel. Their hidden, mocking glares were a freezing wet towel wrapped tightly around my skin. Suffocating. Icecold.

I wanted to tell him I couldn't hold on anymore. But when I opened my mouth, I forced a light, airy tone. "Nothing happened. I just missed you." How could I add to his burden?

He was already fighting so hard just to keep us together. And I couldn't do a single thing to help him. After that day, I cut off all social contact.

For a long time, I hated leaving the apartment. I was terrified of people looking at me. I drew all the curtains shut. My appetite vanished.

In just two months, I dropped over ten pounds. When Vincent finally realized something was wrong, he rushed to my place and dragged me out of bed.

That was when I realized we hadn't seen each other in over a week. "Did you eat dinner?" he demanded.

I thought about it. "No." "Lunch?" "No." "What about breakfast?" I shook my head again.

His face went dark. "When was the last time you ate?" I tried hard to remember. "Maybe last night? Or yesterday at noon?" I honestly couldn't recall. My memory was a mess lately.

I forgot to eat. I forgot to shower. I forgot to reply to his texts. All I did was lie in bed doing nothing, but I was bonetired. Vincent carried me to the bathroom.

He washed my face and brushed my teeth himself. Then he sat me down and forced me to eat. "Chew your food. Don't just swallow it." But I was just so exhausted.

A single meal took me an hour to finish. After eating, the drowsiness hit me again. This time, Vincent didn't leave. He laid down in bed next to me.

As I drifted in and out of sleep, he pulled me flush against his chest. His lips brushed my ear. "Give me a little more time," he coaxed. "I know you're exhausted.

Just wait for me a little longer. Please." After that day, Vincent moved in with me. I bought the place back in college. Just a small twobedroom apartment.

Once he moved in, my life fell back into a strict routine. Every morning before work, he prepared breakfast and lunch for me. He stood there and watched me eat every last bite.

Chapter 4 Every day after work, he rushed back to eat dinner with me. Then he dragged me outside for a walk. My health visibly improved. But Vincent was wasting away.

Until one day, he passed out in the middle of a board meeting from low blood sugar. By the time I rushed to the hospital, his mother was already there.

When she saw me, her brow furrowed slightly. I froze in place. "Mrs. Hawthorne." She didn't curse at me. She simply handed me a folder.

Inside was a list of potential marriage candidates she had picked out for him. It detailed their family backgrounds and the corporate connections they could provide.

She watched me grow up, after all. She didn't say the words out loud. But I understood perfectly. What did I have? I had nothing left.

While waiting for Vincent to wake up, my mind raced. The apartment was bought back in college. Would I take a loss if I sold it now? My adoptive parents raised me for years.

They were blinded by grief over their biological daughter's death, but would they be sad if I just vanished? And Vincent. He had fought so hard for me.

If I broke up with him now, would I be completely heartless? How was I even supposed to bring it up? Time dragged on into an eternity.

By the time Vincent woke up, I had made my decision.

The second his eyes opened and landed on me, before he could even form a smile, I spoke. "Vincent, let's break up." Dead silence filled the hospital room.

After a long time, Vincent slowly pushed himself up and sat against the pillows. "Take that back right now, and I will pretend I never heard it." I shook my head. "Vincent, let's break up." Another suffocating silence stretched between us.

I didn't dare look him in the eyes. Figuring he must be thirsty after waking up, I poured a glass of water. I set it on his nightstand and turned to leave.

His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. From behind me, his voice came out barely a whisper. "Does being with me cause you that much pain?" I didn't answer.

When he finally looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot. His voice cracked, begging. "Can you just hold on a little longer?" Just hold on a little longer. For him.

Couldn't I just hold on a little longer? "Vincent." I let out a long breath. His grip on my hand was bonecrushing.

But prying his fingers off was too easy. "Please let me go." Let me go, and let yourself go. I had always been an unlucky person. After losing my parents, I lost Vincent.

During the first few weeks after the breakup, he was constantly worried about me. Whenever he saw something I liked, he bought it and had it delivered to my door.

When I confronted him about it, he gave me an excuse. Couldn't normal friends send each other gifts? Sure. Of course they could. I turned around and sold every single piece of it.

I realized this wasn't working. So I applied to join Teach for America, hoping a change of scenery would clear my head. A few months after I arrived, a massive earthquake hit.

I almost lost my life. So many people died in that disaster. Digging through the rubble, I found Avery. She had lost her parents and her entire family. She was all alone.

She was eight years younger than me. She needed a guardian. Chapter 5 survived, and I took over Avery's late older sister's identity. I left my old name behind.

I was just Chloe Miller now. But even with a new name, my bad luck followed me like a shadow. At twentyseven, I got cancer. My time was running out.

But now, someone was telling me I was the luckiest person they had ever met. A million dollars. It really was incredibly lucky.

When Avery found out, she cried tears of joy. "We have the money for your treatment!" Yeah. How wonderful. I needed money, and someone just happened to drop a fortune into my lap.

The patient in the room next to mine was recovering from a car crash. Doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the door all day. Whoever was inside was clearly someone important.

After two days of rest, the doctor finally discharged me. Before I left, she practically begged me to keep up with my treatments. The flower shop had been closed for two days.

I missed several preorders. I called the customers one by one to apologize, promising them a free bouquet next time. Our shop was just a block away from the hospital.

We got a lot of foot traffic from people visiting patients. The second I opened the doors today, I got a massive order.

The customer chose the most expensive flowers and paid a hefty delivery tip. The delivery address was a specific room in the hospital. I glanced at the slip.

It was the exact room next to the one I just stayed in. I rushed to arrange the bouquet. By the time I finished, the sky was already getting dark.

When I reached the hospital room, two massive bodyguards stood outside the door. They patted me down and finally let me in. I pushed the door open.

The man in the hospital bed was reading a book. Hearing the noise, he looked up. Our eyes locked. My breath hitched. Just like all those years ago, I froze in place. Awkward.

Completely helpless. I never expected to see Vincent here. It was the first time we had seen each other in five years. But Vincent acted like he didn't even recognize me.

He gave me a brief, indifferent glance, then looked away. He flipped a page in his book. "Just leave the flowers there." I stood there staring at him like an idiot.

He seemed to remember his manners. "Ah. Thank you." His voice was incredibly gentle. "I appreciate it." I turned and walked out of the room. A metallic taste flooded my mouth.

I had bitten straight through my lower lip without even realizing it. Just then, a woman walked past me to visit him.

As our shoulders brushed, her warm voice drifted over. "How are you? Feeling any better today?" Vincent finally set his book down. He looked up at her and smiled. "No.

I still cant remember." "Then what are we going to do about the engagement party in two months?" The heavy door clicked shut, cutting off the rest of their conversation.

My mind went blank. She was so beautiful. Even prettier in person than on the news. That must be his fiancée.

On my way out of the hospital, the nurses at the front desk were whispering. The patient in Room 15 came from a seriously wealthy family. He was admitted after a bad car crash.

He suffered a traumatic brain injury during the wreck. A blood clot was pressing against his nerves, causing partial amnesia. He forgot a lot of people and memories. I stood there.

A hollow numbness spread through my chest. So he wasn't doing it on purpose. He wasn't ignoring me. Vincent had actually forgotten me. I lowered my eyes.

I couldn't tell if it was relief or devastation sinking into my bones. After that day, business at the flower shop suddenly boomed.

It felt like ever since my cancer diagnosis, my luck had finally turned around. On the Winter Solstice, we got several massive backtoback orders.

Chapter 6 By the time I finished working, the sky was pitch black. Avery was staying at her dorm tonight. After locking up the shop, I hesitated for a moment.

I decided to buy a cake. My birthday always fell on the Winter Solstice. When we were dating, Vincent used to joke about it.

He said the second the first snow fell, he knew my birthday was right around the corner. It was the same this year. The bakery was just about to close when I walked in.

The cashier gave me an apologetic look. She said the very last cake had just been sold. I nodded, swallowing my disappointment. But just as I turned to leave, the store phone rang.

The cashier grabbed the receiver, listened for a second, and called out to me. "Wait!" I turned back. She told me a customer who preordered a cake just called to cancel.

It was a fourinch strawberry chocolate cake. The perfect size for one person. "You're incredibly lucky," the cashier said with a bright smile.

I stared at the neatly packaged box in my hands. This streak of good luck was surreal. As I stepped out of the bakery, a black car drove past on the opposite side of the street.

The tinted window was slowly rolling up. I caught a splitsecond glimpse. My lungs seized. I was running before I realized it.

I slammed hard into someone on the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I gasped out. But I didn't stop running. I didn't even care that the cake box was crushing against my ribs.

A red light stopped the traffic at the upcoming intersection. The car halted. I finally got a clear look at the license plate. I stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn't his number.

I stood there, gasping for air. It wasn't him. A sharp pain suddenly flared from where I bumped into that stranger. Tears spilled down my face before I could even process the ache.

The girl I crashed into caught up to me. She took one look at my arm and gasped. "Are you okay? You're bleeding!" I looked down. The stitches on my wrist had torn wide open.

Fresh blood soaked through the bandages. No wonder it hurt so much. The girl insisted on taking me to the ER.

Terrified she would think I was trying to extort her, I quickly promised I'd cover my own medical bills. The nearest hospital was the exact one Vincent was staying in.

When we got there, the ER doctor took one look at my familiar face and sighed. I stood there clutching my smashed cake box, utterly embarrassed. What a disaster of a birthday.

After getting my wrist rebandaged, I walked out of the treatment room. A tall figure stood in the ER lobby. Someone who had no business being down here. It was Vincent.

Our eyes met. I froze for a second before ducking my head, desperate to avoid his gaze. I wondered what he was even doing downstairs at this hour.

The girl who brought me in went to the billing counter. I found an empty plastic chair and sat down, planning to wait for her so I could transfer the money.

A moment later, a shadow fell over me. A broad, solid frame dropped into the seat right next to mine. Every muscle in my body locked up.

The latenight ER lobby was packed with people rushing past. But sitting next to him felt like sitting on a bed of nails.

The silence dragged until he finally spoke. "The cake…" "Huh?" I jerked my head up.

Vincent pointed a long finger at the crushed cardboard box in my lap. "How did it get smashed?" he asked.

His tone carried a faint hint of pity. "Oh." I licked my dry lips, shifting awkwardly in my seat. "I accidentally bumped into someone." He fell silent for two agonizing seconds.

Then he spoke again. "Is it your birthday today?" "Yeah," I gave a tiny nod. "Happy birthday." "Thank you." Chapter 7 He wished me a happy birthday just like he would a complete stranger.

The girl who bumped into me finally came back. I grabbed her arm and quickly transferred the money for my medical bill.

When I turned around, I saw Vincent's fiancée, Vivian Pierce, walking down the hall. "Vincent, do you have zero selfawareness as a patient?" she snapped. "What are you doing wandering around down here?" I didn't dare stick around to listen.

I turned on my heel, ready to bolt. But suddenly, I heard a voice call out— "Chloe