Chapter 5

At ten in the morning, there was a knock on the door.

I thought Johnson was back and rushed to open it.

Standing outside the door was a woman, dressed in a designer outfit, carrying a Hermès bag, her makeup flawless, down to every strand of hair.

She stood at the entrance of our rental apartment, completely out of place amidst the shabby surroundings, like a valuable rose stuck in a pile of trash.

She sized me up, her eyes filled with unconcealed disdain.

"You're Simmons?"

[She's here, she's here! The original female lead, Moore!]

[That aura, the villainess is completely outclassed.]

[It's over, it's over, the villainess is done for.]

Before I could speak, she walked straight into the apartment, glanced at the cramped living room, and pursed her lips slightly.

"My name is Moore, Johnson's fiancée."

She turned to look at me, her tone flat.

"He had amnesia, which is why he was with you. Now he's regaining his memory, and it's time for him to come home."

I gripped the doorknob tightly. "What's your proof?"

She took out her phone and showed me a photo of Johnson with an old man, with a luxurious villa in the background.

Johnson in the photo wore a custom suit, his demeanor completely different from now—distinguished, cold, like another person.

"This is a photo of him with his grandfather, Stuart."

Moore put away her phone.

"His true identity is the only son of the Alston family in New York, the sole heir to the Alston Group. Do you, a nurse, really think you're good enough for him?"

Every word was like a needle pricking my heart.

Because this relationship, from the very beginning, was something I'd tricked him into with lies.

But hearing her say it to my face still made me so miserable I wanted to cry.

"He... regained his memory?" My voice trembled.

"Yes." Moore sneered. "Last night's treatment went very smoothly. He'll remember everything. Do you think he'd still want you after remembering who he is?"

I bit my lip, saying nothing.

Moore looked around the room again, scoffing, "You let him live in a place like this? And let him work hard to support you?"

"Miss Simmons, not only are you not worthy of him, but you also made him suffer so much. If you had any conscience, you'd disappear on your own."

She offered me a plane ticket. "This afternoon's flight. Go wherever you want, just don't come back."

I didn't take it.

Moore placed the ticket on the table. "Miss Simmons, you've taken care of Johnson for half a year. The Alston family thanks you. But some dreams should end."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice.

"Don't harbor any false hope. After he regains his memory, the first thing he'll investigate is that lie about the fifty thousand dollars. You know what you did."

My whole body stiffened.

"Just leave. I'll give you five hundred thousand dollars, enough for you to live on for a while."

I picked up my phone and called Johnson. No answer.

I called again. Still no answer.

I called seven or eight times, all unanswered.

[The male lead regained his memory, he doesn't want to answer her calls.]

[He's about to be in an arranged marriage, why would he care about her? The villainess brought this on herself.]

[Honestly, five hundred thousand dollars isn't bad. Take it and leave. It's a better outcome than in the original story.]

My last bit of fantasy shattered.

I suddenly laughed, looking at Moore. "Do you think five hundred thousand dollars is enough to get rid of me?"

"How much do you want?" Moore narrowed her eyes.

My mind raced.

Even if I had to leave, I needed to save enough money for the child.

"Fifty million," I said.

"Are you insane?"

"Then there's nothing to discuss."

I turned, making a move to close the door.

"I've been with Johnson for so long, I don't believe he'd be so cruel as to abandon me. I'll just cling to him and never let go, what can you do about it?"

Moore's face was ashen, veins bulging on the hand gripping her bag strap.

After a long silence, she gritted her teeth. "Thirty million. That's the most."

"Deal."

I answered quickly, though my heart was trembling. I'd never seen so much money.

After the transfer was complete, Moore said coldly, "The plane is at three this afternoon. If you try to pull anything, I guarantee your life will be miserable."

She left.

I stared at my phone screen. Johnson's calls still weren't going through, and tears splashed onto it.

He must hate me now that he'd regained his memory.

I sniffled, wiped away my tears, and started packing my luggage.

I blocked all of Johnson's contact information, then dragged my suitcase out of the rental apartment.

As I passed the fruit store downstairs, the owner called out, "Simmons, your boyfriend ordered a strawberry cake yesterday, said he'd pick it up today. Want to take it?"

I paused, then shook my head. "No, you can return it."

On the way to the airport in the taxi, I cried the whole time.

The driver glanced at me several times in the rearview mirror, wanting to say something but holding back.

At the airport, I checked in.

I wiped my face and dragged my suitcase towards security.

Just as I handed over my boarding pass and was about to go through the gate, the airport announcement suddenly blared:

"Attention all passengers, all flights are temporarily grounded. Now broadcasting a search—"