The Swimming Pool

"Why should I tell you?" Serena shot back, a sneer touching her lips as she scrambled to break the suffocating tension. "So you can prepare yourself?"

She did not wait for a response. She pushed her palms flat against his chest, shoved him away with all the strength she could muster, and turned on her heel.

She walked fast, feeling as though a pack of starved wolves snapped at her heels. Being near Damian always brought an indescribable pressure to her chest.

She thought she had escaped.

"Serena." His voice cut through the sterile air of the hospital corridor, freezing her in her tracks.

She stopped but refused to turn around.

"Don't ever go looking for Vivian again," Damian stated. His tone was a glacier, devoid of the vulnerability from moments ago.

Serena frowned. She turned her head to meet his gaze. "Are you honestly that terrified I'll bully your precious lover?"

Damian did not hesitate. "Yes."

The single word struck her like a physical blow. Serena froze for a few long seconds, the harsh reality sinking in. A bitter, cold smile curved her lips. She shook her head in silent disbelief, her heart turning to lead, and turned to leave.

"I said, don't ever go looking for her," Damian reiterated, his voice lowering into a deadly pitch. "You are the sole reason she can no longer play the piano."

Serena stopped dead. Her breath hitched. Her pupils dilated as the words echoed in her mind. She turned back, her face drained of color. "What did you say?"

Damian had already turned his back on her, his broad shoulders retreating down the hall.

"Damian! What do you mean?" she demanded.

He ignored her. He walked away, fading from her sight.

Serena stood rooted to the linoleum floor, her mind spinning in a whirlwind of bewilderment and dread. Was this why he refused to help her save Declan? It was not just blind hatred. It was because she had destroyed Vivian's career. What else had she done before her memories were wiped away? The guilt gnawed at her, a heavy weight.

Three days passed in an anxious blur. Serena returned to the hospital, this time sitting in the pristine office of her neurologist rather than wandering the wards.

The doctor studied her recent test results, adjusting his glasses with a reassuring smile. "You are recovering well, Ms. Sterling. Physically, I see no lingering after-effects from the crash."

Serena fidgeted with the strap of her handbag, her mind plagued by Damian's parting words. She hesitated before speaking. "Doctor... what about my mind? I lost all my memories in that accident. Is there any chance I will ever get them back? And if so, when?"

She needed to know what kind of monster she had been.

The doctor lowered the file and let out a gentle sigh. "The human brain is a complex system. We see many cases of retrograde amnesia following traumatic accidents. Sometimes, a patient regains their memory spontaneously. But there are cases where the memories never return. There is no exact timeline, nor a guaranteed answer."

A wave of profound disappointment washed over Serena. She lowered her gaze, staring blankly at her hands.

Noticing her dejection, the doctor leaned forward. "However, there are methods to stimulate the brain. If you are determined to recover your past, I suggest immersing yourself in your old life. Ask your family or close friends to take you to places you frequented. Engage in routines you used to do. Experiencing familiar environments might act as a trigger to help unlock those lost memories."

Serena absorbed the advice, a flicker of resolve lighting in her chest. She gave a firm nod. "I understand. Thank you, Doctor."

At seven o'clock that evening, the grand banquet hall of the hotel was a dazzling display of wealth. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in bright light, and the air hummed with the lively chatter of the city's elite.

Serena arrived right on time, wearing a simple yet elegant evening gown. She had leveraged her connections to find out Damian was attending this specific dinner party. Her harsh words from three days ago still lingered, and the crushing guilt of what she had supposedly done to Vivian weighed heavy on her conscience. Yet, she had no other choice. She needed his help for Declan. She had to try again.

She scanned the crowded ballroom, but Damian was nowhere to be seen. Slipping away from the main hall, she stepped out into the sprawling garden to continue her search.

The winter air was sharp and biting. A massive outdoor swimming pool dominated the center of the garden, its deep, crystal-clear water shimmering under the ambient lighting. Given the cold, only a handful of guests lingered outside, chatting in small, bundled-up groups.

Serena's eyes darted around the perimeter until she spotted the familiar, imposing silhouette standing near the edge of the pool. She gathered her courage, her heels clicking against the stone tiles as she approached.

"Hi, Damian."

Damian turned his head. His expression was a mask of sheer indifference, his dark eyes sweeping over her without a hint of surprise. "Yes?"

He did not bother asking why she was there. He always seemed to know her moves before she made them.

"I..." Serena swallowed hard, trying to form the right words.

Before she could utter another syllable, his phone vibrated in his hand. He held up a finger, cutting her off, and answered the call.

Even from a foot away, Serena could hear the frantic, high-pitched voice of Vivian's manager bleeding through the receiver. "Mr. Sinclair! Something terrible happened! Vivian... She..."

Chaotic background noises—shouting, crashing, and loud sobs—filtered through the line, painting a picture of panic.

"Get straight to the point," Damian barked, his calm demeanor shattering.

The manager was practically sobbing now. "There was an accident on set! Someone pushed Vivian down a flight of stairs! Her legs are broken! I called for an ambulance, but another actress is blocking our way, making a scene. It is total chaos here. I don't know what to do!"

"I understand. I am on my way." Damian snapped the phone shut. The urgency radiating from him was palpable.

"Damian..." Serena reached out, her expression twisting with worry and desperation.

He strode past her. For a fraction of a second, his shoulder brushed hers, his steps faltering just a bit, but he did not stop. He marched into the shadows of the garden, abandoning her without a second glance.

Serena watched his retreating back, a hollow ache settling in her chest. She pivoted on her heel, intending to follow him out, perhaps to catch him at his car, when a sudden force blocked her path.

"Stop right there!" an arrogant, shrill voice snapped.

Serena looked up. Chloe stood in front of her, posing in a domineering stance. Her chin was tilted upward, her eyes raking over Serena with condescending malice.

Serena had zero patience for this. She offered Chloe a blank glance and took a step to the side, attempting to bypass her. But Chloe mirrored her movement, blocking the narrow walkway near the pool's edge with an unhinged look in her eyes.

"You shameless homewrecker!" Chloe hissed, her voice venomous. "Stop following Damian everywhere! Would it kill you to survive without a man's attention? Why are you acting so cheap?"

Serena stood her ground. Even in heels, she was noticeably taller than Chloe, her statuesque figure towering over the other woman. She did not need to shout to command the space; her natural, icy aura was enough to outshine Chloe's desperate bravado.

Serena met Chloe's furious glare with cool indifference.

"Miss Mercer," Serena began, her tone composed and smooth. "I have been legally married to Damian for three years now. We are husband and wife. That title you just used? You should save it for women who know a man is married, yet still choose to throw themselves at him like desperate strays. A woman with actual dignity would never dream of interfering in another person's marriage, regardless of her feelings for the husband."

She took a deliberate step closer, her gaze sharp enough to draw blood. "On the other hand, a disgraceful woman treats her lack of morals as a badge of honor, making a public spectacle of herself just to ensure everyone knows what she is."

Serena's voice never wavered, her expression remaining calm. But her words were lethal daggers.

Chloe's face flushed an ugly shade of red. The sarcastic takedown ripped through her ego. This was what Chloe despised most about Serena—that unshakable, high-and-mighty posture, the way she looked down on everyone as if she were royalty and they were dirt.

Dismissing the fuming woman, Serena looked away and walked past Chloe toward the exit.

Chloe remained frozen, her beautiful features contorting into a mask of pure rage as she stared at Serena's elegant back. It was a sickening pill to swallow. Serena was gorgeous, her movements graceful and magnetic. It was obvious why men gravitated toward her.

Before the Sterling family collapsed, Serena had been the untouchable goddess of Crestmont City. She was rich, brilliant, and breathtaking—the dream of every man and the envy of every woman. When her family fell into ruin, the entire social circle had awaited her destruction. They wanted to see her dragged through the mud, used and discarded.

Instead, she had somehow captivated Damian Sinclair, securing her position as his wife. She had not suffered. She had climbed right back to the top of the food chain.

It is not fair! Chloe's mind screamed, a feral growl vibrating in her throat. Why does she always get the best of everything?!

A blinding, intoxicating wave of jealousy seized Chloe's senses, overriding her logic. Her eyes darted to the deep, freezing water of the pool right beside them.

Without another thought, Chloe lunged forward, slamming her hands hard into Serena's back, shoving her directly toward the steep edge.