"Victor."

"Just when I thought everything was mine," Richard sighed, his arm resting on his forehead as he leaned back in his office chair.

It was 11 PM, and sleep eluded him. Clad in a luxurious robe, he sipped on wine in his study room.

"Jane," he whispered, his gaze fixed on an old flip phone.

A smirk played on his lips as he opened and closed the phone, toying with it.

It was Victor’s phone.

"You had a woman," he sneered.

Earlier in the evening, Richard had been sifting through Victor's belongings when he came across an old flip phone. It had never caught his attention before, dismissed as insignificant. An old, seldom-used phone.

The device had been powered off, but Richard decided to switch it on. As the phone rang, a woman's name appeared on the screen: Jane. Curiosity piqued, he answered the call.

For five minutes, he listened to a woman crying on the other end, testing his patience. He didn't utter a word. The impulse to hang up was strong, but he resisted. Oddly enough, her sobs brought him a strange sense of relief.

"I wonder if you have a preference for emotional women," he jeered.

Richard picked up his phone from the desk in front of him and dialed a number on his speed dial.

"Yes," came the answer from the other end.

"Come to my room immediately," Richard commanded.

A knock sounded on his study room door a minute later.

"Enter," Richard called out.

Harry, Richard’s assistant, hurried into the room, clearly out of breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead, evidence of his rushed journey from wherever he had been when he received the call.

"You called," Harry gasped, struggling to catch his breath.

As Richard scratched his forehead, he asked, "Was there a woman in my life before the accident?"

Harry's expression shifted, a mixture of guilt and sorrow.

"Yes," Harry replied in a sympathetic tone.

He continued with a subdued voice, "You met her at the Grand Hotel a few months before the accident."

Richard acted as though he had forgotten his memories. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed, "Losing my memory in that accident has left me at a loss."

Harry was more than an aide to Victor; he was a close friend who Victor occasionally confided in.

Richard's performance was so convincing that Harry was fully taken in. Two brothers attacked by a mafia gang in broad daylight. The elder brother, Victor, risking his life to save the younger one, only to lose his memory in the process.

Richard's switch with Victor had been carried out with meticulous precision. Even Victor's closest aide, Harry, couldn't doubt the identity of the man he worked for.

"Don't lose heart. We're all here for you," Harry said, attempting to uplift the spirits of the man he believed to be Victor.

Richard often played the memory loss card, especially when he wanted to extract information from people.

"Was I serious about her?" Richard inquired seriously.

"I can't speak to your emotions at the time, but you did appear happier after meeting her," Harry confessed. He was committed to aiding Victor in recovering his memories. His responses were genuine and honest.

A smirk crossed Richard's face. He couldn't contain his reaction. The idea of his brother falling in love was amusing to him. Victor, who had always been aloof around women, had allowed a woman to enter his life and influence his mood.

Harry observed Richard's expressions, finding his smirk discomforting.

"Your suit is prepared for the ball. What time do you plan to depart?" Harry asked.

Richard reclined in his chair, his arms resting on the armrests, maintaining an air of pride. "The protagonist of the ball should make a grand entrance at the end."

"Understood." Harry exited the room.

As the door closed behind Harry, he scratched the back of his head and pondered, "Can a person's personality undergo such drastic change after losing their memory?"

 

 

******

 

 

The city lights painted a mesmerizing panorama on the canvas of the night. The reflection of the lights danced upon the tranquil river, creating a captivating sight on the horizon. The bridge, a sentinel in the night, stood as a vantage point for the breathtaking view of the city's twinkling skyline and the glistening river below. The air was crisp and infused with a touch of mystery, the ambiance heightened by the play of light and shadows.

In the stillness of midnight, Jane found herself standing at the very spot where she had experienced her first kiss. The enchanting beauty of the scene before her was bewitching. The chilly wind whispered secrets that made her shiver, yet she remained captivated by the allure of the river and its surroundings. Nature's embrace was accompanied by the embrace of a man—Victor—who stood behind her, his arms enveloping her in warmth.

"It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Victor?" Jane's voice carried a mixture of admiration and awe.

"To my eyes, you are more beautiful," Victor's reply was accompanied by a gentle smile, his gaze fixed on the scenery before them.

A soft chuckle escaped Jane's lips, followed by playful words, "You're not going to trick me with flattery."

Victor's demeanor remained sincere as he leaned closer, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. Jane's fingers found their way into his hair, her senses immersed in the affectionate exchange. However, an unexpected sensation on the back of Victor's head drew her attention away from the moment.

Sticky warmth stained her fingers, and her bewildered gaze focused on the crimson hue on her hand. The enchanting view shifted dramatically, darkness consuming the picturesque scene. The man she held in her arms transformed from a loving presence to a figure drenched in blood, his face contorted in pain. Blood oozed from a wound on his head, staining his features in a gruesome tableau. His face grew ashen, his lips pale and tinged with blue.

"Victor!" Jane's voice cracked with a sense of helplessness as she cradled the bloodied figure in her arms.

"Open your eyes, Victor! What happened? Please, open your eyes!" Her cries resonated in the darkness, echoing her desperation.

 

"Victor!"

With a gasp, Jane jolted awake, her body drenched in perspiration. Panting heavily, she clutched the fabric of her sheets, her heart racing with fear. 

The nightmare had haunted her for days. She felt trapped, unsure of how to break free from its grip on her mind.

Jane swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet making contact with the cool floor. A glance at the room adjacent to hers revealed that Bella's lights were still on.

"Why is she awake at this hour?" Jane mused aloud to herself.

With a sense of urgency, she knocked gently on Bella's door and entered. The sight that met her eyes was that of her sister engrossed in a sea of paperwork and files scattered across her desk.

"Bella! Why are you still awake?" Jane's voice was tinged with frustration as she stepped into the room.

"There's an issue at work," Bella replied, her attention briefly diverted from the documents in her hand.

"Can I help in any way?" Jane's offer was genuine.

A smile graced Bella's lips as she looked at her younger sibling. The sight of Jane's worried expression touched her heart.

I'll do whatever it takes to safeguard that innocent smile, Bella thought resolutely.

"No specific task for now. Just sit with me," Bella responded warmly.

"Let me get you some coffee. I'll be back in a moment," Jane offered before swiftly exiting the room.

Bella marveled at the efficiency with which Jane returned, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. The aroma of the brew enveloped her senses, providing a comforting embrace.

As Jane settled into the room with her own laptop, both sisters began working on their respective tasks. An hour passed in a blur of concentration and activity.

However, the weight of fatigue eventually caught up with Jane, prompting a yawn that led to the closure of her laptop. She pushed herself off the couch, her movements propelled by the weariness of the day.

"Let's call it a night, sis," Jane announced, her voice a mixture of exhaustion and determination as she plucked the file from Bella's grasp.

Bella sighed in agreement, realizing the lateness of the hour. She shifted toward the bed, ready to find respite in sleep, fully expecting Jane to retire to her own room.

To her surprise, Jane settled beside her, making herself comfortable under the blanket.

Both sisters now shared the same bed, and an odd sense of awkwardness washed over Bella.

"Why are you still here?" Bella inquired, puzzled by Jane's unexpected decision.

"I'll sleep in your room tonight," Jane declared with unwavering resolve.

"Don't be ridiculous. Go back to your room," Bella chided gently.

Jane responded with a defiant turn, wrapping her arms around Bella as she rested her head on her sister's stomach.

"No, I'm staying here," Jane insisted firmly.

Bella sighed, her voice a mixture of amusement and affection. "Alright, then."

In the ensuing silence, both sisters lay side by side, their eyes closed and the weight of the night's concerns hovering over them.

Amid Jane's heavy breathing, she finally broke the quietude, her voice a delicate thread weaving through the room. "How do you deal with nightmares?" Her words bore a softness, yet were tinged with pain.

Bella's eyes fluttered open, the seriousness of the conversation prompting her to respond thoughtfully. "You forget about them when you wake up," she said.

A follow-up question came from Jane, "But what if they keep coming back every night?"

"Then you forget them every day," Bella asserted, her words carrying a sense of determination.

Jane's embrace tightened around her sister, her voice holding a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. "It's difficult to forget."

Bella felt her heart ache for Jane. The weight of Jane's troubles was palpable, and Bella knew that this wasn't just a fleeting worry or casual conversation—it was something significant that was affecting her sister deeply.

Bella's gentle touch traced Jane's hair as she posed a poignant question. "Are you having nightmares?"

Jane's response was tinged with the ache of her emotions. "It's painful," she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of her distress.

Bella shifted her attention fully to her sister, her eyes locking onto Jane's. "What do you see?" she inquired softly.

A moment of hesitation passed before Jane unburdened her heart, a confession wrought with raw emotion. "I see Victor's dead face."

Tears welled up and overflowed, the dam of Jane's emotions breaking. "It's similar to the time when I dreamed about my mother's dead face, and then they actually got into an accident," Jane's voice wavered, her words punctuated by stifled sobs.

Her voice caught in her throat, as she struggled to voice her deepest concern. "I am worried that he might be in danger."

"Don't say that. Believe me, he is alright," Bella's comforting words gently brushed away Jane's worries.

Bella reached out, wiping the tears that streaked Jane's cheeks.

Jane's sobs gradually subsided, exhaustion finally overtaking her, and she succumbed to sleep, the embrace of fatigue drawing her into its arms.

However, Bella remained awake, her thoughts swirling in the darkness. Her mind traced the lines of the intricate situation they found themselves in, like a master chess player analyzing each move. The masquerade ball loomed on the horizon, and with it came the decision of whether or not to expose Jane to the reality that awaited her there.

"Is bringing her to the Ball a good idea?" Bella's thoughts were punctuated by a whisper of doubt, the weight of responsibility resting heavily upon her shoulders. Victor's presence at the ball was not just a possibility; it was almost a certainty.

"People say he turned into a lunatic and power-hungry dog after he rose from his deathbed." Bella whispered, her words laden with the uncertainty of the rumors circulating about Victor's transformation. Victor, the man Jane loved, was rumored to have transformed into a power-hungry enigma, a lunatic shrouded in intrigue. His abrupt shift in behavior after his accident was a cause for concern.

"You must really love him to be having these nightmares," she thought. Bella's reflection on Jane's profound feelings didn't go unnoticed.

However, Bella's concerns remained steadfast. "He was in danger a few months ago, but you don't know how much he changed after that accident. He should have contacted you by now, but he didn't. Evidently, he doesn't want you in his life."

"No matter what, I will protect you," she resolved, a fierce determination settling within her. Yet, there was a duality to her determination. A sense of duty to reveal the truth of the man who occupied Jane's heart also took root. "But you should know the truth," Bella's inner resolve solidified, even as her thoughts remained a silent contemplation.

As the night deepened, Bella held Jane in her arms, the cradle of sisterly love a sanctuary against the storm of uncertainty that raged in their lives.