Chained By His Love

Heidi's POV "Buonanotte, Heidi!" ("Good night, Heidi!") Rose, one of my coworkers at the Roswell Group, the company owned by my late adoptive father, called out to me. "Buonanotte!" I replied with a smile as I headed toward the highway. I waved goodbye to Rose as she walked toward the company scooter she used to commute to work. As for me, I usually took the bus or a taxi. I've lived in Palermo, Italy, for ten years, yet I still struggle to speak Italian fluently. I can understand the language well enough, though. I was sixteen when Marshall Roswell, an Italian businessman, adopted me. He was the man who rescued me from the burning airplane that my mother and I had boarded back in the Philippines. He even gave me his surname. Now I'm twenty-four years old. My adoptive father passed away last year from a heart attack. After graduating with a degree in Business, I started working as the Marketing Manager of the Roswell Group. I walked toward a nearby restaurant since I was already starving. It was seven in the evening. Just as I reached the entrance, a deafening crash erupted behind me. I screamed and instinctively ran away from the collision. But it wasn't an ordinary traffic accident. Several armed men jumped out of one of the vehicles and opened fire on the passengers of the other car. Panic spread instantly. People ran in every direction, and I sprinted as fast as I could while more vehicles became caught in the chaos. I was about to hail a taxi when I noticed a tall man staggering toward me. Blood streamed from his right arm and the side of his head. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit. His short black hair was neatly trimmed, and his rugged, tanned features made him look intimidating. I was terrified to approach him. Yet pity overcame my fear. "Sir, come with me," I said as I hurried to his side. He stared at me, confusion filling his strikingly handsome face. Before he could say a word, his body suddenly gave out. I caught him against my chest, but he was far too heavy. We both collapsed onto the pavement. "Help!" I shouted desperately while waving at passing cars. Fortunately, a taxi stopped. The driver helped me lift the unconscious man into the vehicle, and we rushed him to the nearest hospital, where he was immediately taken to the emergency room. "Who's the patient's relative?" the doctor asked. "U-Um... I am!" I answered instinctively as I hurried toward him. I noticed the man's wallet lying on the floor and quickly picked it up. Searching inside, I found his identification card. Cain Archioni. Twenty-eight years old. "Miss, please fill out this patient information form," a nurse said, handing me a clipboard. I sat on a nearby couch and copied the information from Cain's ID. There was also an emergency contact number written on the back, but no matter how many times I called, nobody answered. "Miss, what is your relationship with the patient?" the nurse asked. I froze. If I admitted I wasn't related to him, I was afraid he might not receive immediate care. "I'm... his fiancée," I blurted out. "We're getting married soon." The nurse smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. We'll do everything we can to save your fiancé." "Thank you." After completing the paperwork, I handed it back to her. Soon afterward, Cain was transferred to the operating room after the doctors discovered a bullet lodged in his right shoulder. While waiting, I stepped outside to buy something to eat. By the time I returned, the surgery was over. "How's the patient, Doctor?" I asked anxiously. "He'll be fine," the doctor replied. "We're moving him to the recovery ward. We'll just wait for him to regain consciousness." "Thank you, Doctor." I paid the initial hospital bill so there wouldn't be any delays. Thankfully, I still had the one hundred thousand euros my adoptive father had deposited into my bank account—a portion of my inheritance from the company. Afterward, I headed to Cain's recovery room. I sat down on the couch and ate the food I had bought outside. I always carried a change of clothes with me, so I decided to take a shower in the ward's bathroom as well. After finishing my meal, I headed into the bathroom. As I lathered soap over my body, Cain's face kept flashing through my mind—the man I had brought to the hospital. Before I realized it, I was smiling. Once I got dressed, I stepped out of the bathroom. A nurse was just finishing changing the bandage on the patient's head. "How's my fiancé's wound, Nurse?" I asked. "The injury on his head isn't serious." "What about the bullet wound?" "It wasn't too deep. Thankfully, you brought him here in time." I let out a sigh of relief. After the nurse left, I lay down on the couch for a short nap. I didn't think the patient would wake up anytime soon. I had fallen into a deep sleep when a loud clatter jolted me awake. I shot upright and saw the patient sitting on the bed. His IV stand had fallen onto the floor. I rushed over and stood it back up. "Please, don't move!" I pleaded as he tried to get out of bed. "W-Who are you?" he asked anxiously. I froze. I wasn't sure if I should keep pretending to be his fiancée. "U-Um... I'm Heidi Roswell," I introduced myself nervously. "H-Heidi? Why am I here? ...Who am I?" I blinked in confusion. He didn't even know who he was. He had amnesia.