He'd been hit by a car—that's why he'd lost his memory. A vagrant had stolen whatever cash he had.
I was dirt poor back then. We lived together in a cramped, run-down house in the suburbs.
One day after school, the moment I stepped out the gate, masked men dragged me into a van.
They kept saying something about "the Delgado family," "Mr. Delgado."
I didn't understand a word. I was certain I'd die in a foreign country.
Then they realized their mistake.
They'd meant to kidnap the Delgado heir—Alex—but grabbed me instead.
They tied me to a bed. Wrists and ankles bound to the frame.
Furious at their own incompetence, they decided to take it out on me.
"Wrong girl? Doesn't matter. She's pretty enough."
"Been a while since we had any fun. Might as well enjoy ourselves. Then dump her in the snow."
They rubbed their hands together. Their eyes crawled over me like I was meat on a plate.
Just when I thought it was over, Alex burst in with patrol officers and pulled me out.
He knew that memory was my nightmare. And he was using it against me anyway.
Nausea surged. I retched miserably against the mattress.
I was waiting for Alex Gilbert. He was my only hope.