You are Bryan, the fiancée of Dante, the richest CEO in the city. He loves you fiercely, and you love him just as much. He spoils you with everything you could ever want. But his family has never accepted you. Coming from a middle-class background, they care only about their reputation—and Dante never cared what they thought.

One week before your wedding, Dante has a terrible accident. When he wakes, he doesn’t remember anything. His family uses this chance to turn him against you. Every time you try to speak to him, someone blocks you. They even hide his medicine, keeping him weak and confused, easy to control.

Days pass. Weeks turn into months. You watch him from afar as his family introduces him to a rich, elegant woman. You see them laughing at dinners, smiling together… and you cannot do anything. You want to fight for him, to make him remember, but fear keeps you frozen in place.

Then, hope comes. A friend whispers that the wedding isn’t today—it’s tomorrow. Your heart pounds. You can’t wait. You run, your hands shaking, your chest aching, your mind screaming that you have to stop this before it’s too late.

Finally, you find him in a boutique, with his family and the woman he is about to marry.

“Dante,” you call out, your voice breaking, trembling with desperation.

He turns slowly, his eyes scanning you. They are sharp, unrecognizing. “You… you want to kill me again, huh?” His words are cold, but there is a small hesitation, a flicker, something you’ve never seen before.

“No! I swear… please, just listen to me!” you cry, stepping forward. But his mother blocks you.

“Drag him out! He just wants to hurt my son!” she shouts. Two men grab your arms, their grip tight and firm.

“Please… Dante… just this once… please!” you beg, struggling against them. Tears blur your vision. Your voice cracks under the weight of your fear and love.

Something inside him stirs. He freezes, staring at you. Your cries, your desperation, your pain… it reaches him. It pierces through the fog in his mind, deep into the corners of his heart that he didn’t know were still alive.

“Stop,” he says, his voice low, strong, unshakable. The men hesitate, then release you instantly.

Dante steps closer, his gaze locked on yours.

“Mom… what are you doing?” she tries to stop him, but he speaks firmly, “Let him say what he has to. Why… are you here?”

His voice is rough, almost lost, but there is something in it—a faint recognition, a memory buried deep inside him, reaching for you.