The Fake Amnesia: Punishing My Billionaire Husband

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The doctor tells him Im losing my memory, and the man who spent years tormenting me suddenly looks like hes the one dying.

For years, our marriage has been a lie. In front of the flashing cameras, Keaton plays the devoted movie star husband. Behind closed doors, he despises me. He has a mistress he spoils, a girl he calls "Wifey" while I sit at home, ignored and invisible.

I used to cry. I used to fight for us. But now, a sickness is eating away at my brain, erasing him piece by piece.

The irony is delicious.

Now that Im finally letting go, Keaton is panicking. Hes trying to manufacture romantic surprises, desperate to fix the damage he caused. He clings to me, trembling, terrified of the blank look in my eyes.

He doesn't realize it's too late.

He can only watch, helpless, as I forget his nameand fall in love with someone else.

Chapter 1

In the seventh year of our wara relationship defined by loving and killing each other in equal measureKeaton finally met the woman he actually liked.

Her name was Callie. A rookie actress, fresh out of drama school.

She was innocent. Cute. When she smiled, she was a carbon copy of my younger self.

Our friends whispered that she was just a stand-in. A placeholder.

They said Keaton was just looking for a fresh thrill. He was just playing around.

After all, Keaton and I had spent years breaking up and making up.

Everyone had watched this proud, arrogant man break his own spine just to make me smile. They watched him cry for me.

Everyone knew he loved me. They knew he was obsessed.

I suddenly remembered a night from our past. We had just reconciled after a brutal breakup.

He didn't bother with zippers. He gripped the fabric and ripped my dress apart. He took from me with an insatiable hunger.

I melted into a puddle beneath him.

Through the haze, his breath scorched my ear. His voice was a low, seductive growl. "Baby, we're going to tangle together and torment each other for the rest of our lives."

I used to believe that. I thought Keaton would never have the energy to love another woman the way he loved me.

Until the third year of our marriage. The cracks appeared.

And right on cue, Callie showed up.

At first, Keaton despised her.

They were filming a drama together, playing lovers.

Callie was a fan. Every time they had to hold hands or hug for a scene, she turned a burning crimson. She couldn't hide her adoration.

Back then, things were still good between us.

He complained about her constantly. He said he hated the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes.

Callie wore cartoon T-shirts. Keaton called her infantile.

Callie wore booty shorts. Keaton called her trashy.

No matter what Callie did, Keaton found a reason to hate it.

But maybe he didn't even realize it himself. Every time he mentioned her, the corners of his mouth lifted.

During our nightly phone calls, his mind started to drift.

Usually, it was because Callie was "clumsy." She always had some stupid question to bother him with.

Keaton would complain about the annoyance, yet he never failed to answer her.

One night, before hanging up, I asked him a question.

"Tomorrow, can we stop talking about Callie?"

He gave a wicked little smirk. "Jealous, wifey?"

He teased me while tapping his screen. He blocked Callie's number right there.

I thought that was it.

Until a few days later. Callie posted a tweet.

"A lingering kiss scene. Two hearts actually moved. Can't sleep tonight. Going to talk all night with my crush!"

That night, Keaton didn't call me.

I called him.

The line was busy.

I realized then. This time, with Callie, Keaton wasn't acting.

He had actually fallen.

Chapter 2

After that night, it was like a switch flipped. Keaton just stopped loving me.

We entered a cold war. No explanations. No apologies. No coaxing.

For a full month, silence was the loudest thing in our house.

Until the wrap party. The cast was doing a live interview.

A reporter asked him, "Now that work is over, what's the one thing you want to do most?"

Keaton pulled out his phone. He showed the screen to the camera. It was a photo of me in an apron, pouting playfully at him.

He smiled, his eyes soft. "I miss my wife. I'm craving her cooking."

In a way, Keaton was my sugar daddy. He paid the bills.

If he didn't love me anymore, fine. I'd just bury my heart, listen to him, and focus on securing the bag.

That night, I cooked a feast.

But Keaton didn't come home.

I didn't wait up. I went to bed early.

Until midnight. My phone rang.

He sounded drunk. His words were slurred, whiny. "Wifey good wifey I miss you so much. Come pick me up. Take me home."

It had been so long since he called me that.

My eyes stung. I stayed silent.

Then I heard Ellis's voice in the background, jeering. "Who's the big movie star calling? Is it Callie?"

The boys started shouting at the receiver. "Mrs. Vance! Keaton made a wish today! He said he wants to be with you forever! Eternity!"

Oh.

He was calling Callie.

He was calling her his good wifey. His brothers were calling her "The Missus."

He had already integrated her into his life.

A sharp pain stabbed through my skull. I slammed the phone down. I buried myself under the duvet, wrapping it tight around my body like a cocoon.

It's okay.

I can pretend I don't care. I'm an award-winning actress, after all.

Rumors of our marital discord spread fast.

Everyone in the circle whispered that Keaton was in love with Callie.

He took her to candlelight dinners. He bought her a house, a car. He rented out entire amusement parks just to ride the merry-go-round with her.

He liked her. He liked her so much he wanted to give her the world.

Even that ruby necklacethe one I had wanted for ages but couldn't findKeaton bought it recently.

I assumed it was for her.

But one morning, I woke up and there it was. Lying quietly on my nightstand.

Next to it was a note.

"Happy Anniversary."

It was Keaton's handwriting.

I stared at it. Then I crumpled the note into a ball and threw it in the trash.

I didn't understand his game anymore. And I didn't want to.

A few days later, at a private gala, I met Callie for the first time.

The moment she saw me, she smiled.

Her eyes locked onto my necklace. Her voice was thin, airy.

"Mr. Vance bought me a pile of jewelry a few days ago. I thought this one looked a bit matronly, so I told him to give it to you." She smiled. "I knew it. You're more mature than me, Lydia. It suits you perfectly. Mr. Vance always says he spoils me like a child. I used to argue with himI'm twenty-two, after all. But standing next to you wow. I really am young, aren't I?"

I froze. A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat.

The anniversary gift I had cherished?

It was just Callie's trash.

Chapter 3

Seeing my displeasure, Callies smile sweetened. She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, practically glowing with self-satisfaction.

"Lydia, don't feel awkward about accepting my gift. Just wear it. Mr. Vance buys me way too much stuff. I can't possibly wear it all. If you see anything else you like, just tell me. Feel free to take it."

I matched her smile, razor-sharp. My voice was dangerously soft. "So, if I like it, you'll just give it to me?"

Callie nodded, smug.

I reached out. My fingers grazed the diamond earring glittering on her lobe.

Then I yanked. Hard.

Callie screamed. She doubled over, clutching her ear. Blood seeped through her fingers.

I looked down at her, my eyelids heavy, my smile unchanged. "Thanks for the gift. Can I have the other one too?"

Callies pupils trembled. Fear flickered in her eyes.

Her blood splattered onto the floor. The crowd began to stir.

Keaton arrived seconds later.

He saw the blood on the floor. His expression turned instantly cold, ruthless. He yanked me into his arms, scanning me from head to toe.

The concern in his eyes it looked so real.

Callie let go of her ear. She let the blood run down her neck, dripping onto her white gown.

She reached for Keaton, her voice trembling. "Mr. Vance it stings"

Keaton lifted his arm, dodging her touch. He shot her a cold glare.

That look froze Callie in place. She bit her lip, humiliated.

She didn't understand. Keaton was Old Money. He could keep a mistress, play around in privatethat was fine. But a public scene? That was a loss of face.

In public, Keaton could only love me.

His thumb smoothed the furrow between my brows. His voice was gentle, coaxing. "Who upset you?"

I didn't speak. No one dared to speak.

Two seconds later, Keaton grabbed a vase and smashed it onto the floor.

Crash.

"Is everyone fucking deaf?" he roared. "Who upset my wife? Speak!"

The air in the room was suffocating.

Callie clenched her fists. She broke.

"It was me! Okay? It was me! It's all my fault! Are you happy now, Keaton?!"

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears rolled down her face as she stared defiantly at him, her voice choking.

"It's my fault for trying to be close to Lydia, only to be hated by her! It's my fault for falling in love with the wrong man! For being willing to be called a homewrecker just to be with him! It's my fault for being delusional! For thinking he actually liked me back! I'm just an idiot!"

She raised her wine glass over her head and poured it over herself. Wine mixed with blood, staining the fabric across her chest red.

She cried, looking straight at Keaton. "Mr. Vance, is this enough? Is your beloved wife satisfied now?"

Keatons hand on my shoulder tightened. His grip was bruising.

He was hurting for her. I could feel it.

He asked me, "Satisfied?"

I laughed. I laughed until tears pricked my eyes. "Pretending to love me it must be exhausting, right?"

I looked him in the eye.

"Keaton, I have a great idea. A way for you to love who you want, legitimately. Give me money. I want a lot of money. And then let's get a divorce."

Chapter 4

Keatons eyes turned to ice.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over my ear. His voice dripped with venom. "Lydia, I should have seen it sooner. You're just a gold-digging liar. You trample on genuine hearts. You deserve to die alone."

I smiled. I pushed him away, ignoring the throbbing in my skull, and walked away.

Keaton, you really jinxed it.

I haven't told you yet. The doctor says my brain is sick.

It might hurt. I might lose my memory. Or I might just die.

Keaton wasn't wrong. In the beginning, I only said yes to him for his money.

Before him, I had loved another boy with everything I had.

Keaton knew all of that. But he still treated me like a queen. He insisted on being with me. From dating to marriage.

I still remember the rainy day he proposed. We were curled up on the couch watching a romance movie.

He suddenly leaned in, whispering, "Lydia, just say you love me. I'll marry you right now. All my money will be yours to control."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

"I love you." The words were on the tip of my tongue. But I held them back. Who proposes like that? So casual.

So I shook my head, just to annoy him.

Back then, Keaton was shameless. Thick-skinned.

He pulled a massive diamond ring out of nowhere and shoved it onto my finger.

I tried to run. He grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the couch.

He bit my ear, growling, "Keep being stubborn. I'll strangle you."

That day, his kisses nearly melted me.

I begged for mercy beneath him. I said it over and over again. "Keaton, I love you."

I really did love you back then.

But it seems you never really believed me.

My illness got worse every day.

I swallowed handfuls of pills, but the headaches were blinding. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.

Soon, I realized I was starting to forget. Little things about Keaton were slipping away.

My body was failing. The doctor increased my dosage.

As I was leaving, he frowned. "Why do you always come alone? Where is your family? With your condition, you need family. You need care."

But I don't have a family. What am I supposed to do?

When I was six, my mother left me on the street. She said she was going to buy me candy.

She never came back.

I thought I'd never see her again in this lifetime.

Until I ran into Callie at the hospital.

Her earthe one I had rippedwas swollen and angry. She was there to get her dressing changed.

Beside her was a middle-aged woman.

I blinked, thinking I was hallucinating.

That woman looked exactly like my mother.

Chapter 5

My body moved on instinct, bypassing my brain entirely. I sprinted toward her.

Callie stumbled back in fear.

My mother shielded her instantly. She shoved me hard. Her finger jabbed at my face, screaming. "You bitch! You want to hurt my daughter again?!"

She grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. Her voice was shrill. "You dare touch my daughter? I'll beat you to death!"

Slap.

Her hand connected with my face. I couldn't dodge it.

Blood tasted metallic in my mouth. Tears sprang to my eyes.

Mom didn't recognize me. She had forgotten me a long time ago.

She had another daughter now. Her daughter was Callie.

Actually, when I was thirteen, scavenging for plastic bottles on the street, I saw my mom once.

She was across the road, holding Callies hand. They were laughing. She looked so gentle.

I ran to her with every ounce of strength I had. I screamed, "Mommy! Little Treasure is here! Mommy, don't go!"

She stopped. She turned slowly, looking at me with surprise.

Callie tugged at her hem. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Mommy, look at the beggar. So gross."

We were both her children.

But she was wearing a pretty little dress, hugging a cute teddy bear.

And I was wearing rags and shoes with holes in them.

I envied her so much.

I whispered, "I'm not a beggar. I'm your big sister"

I reached out, forcing an ugly smile. "Little sister."

Callie burst into tears.

She hid behind my mom, screaming, "Mommy, make her go away! She wants to steal my bear!"

My mom reacted instantly. She shoved me to the ground.

Back then, just like now, she pointed at my nose and cursed.

"Where did this wild brat come from?! You scared my baby! I'll beat you!"

No. No, Mommy.

I'm not a wild brat. I'm your Little Treasure too.

I'm the Little Treasure you threw away.

I didn't cry and call for Mommy like I did when I was thirteen. "Mommy, it's me."

Instead, I shoved her back. Hard. Just like she had shoved me.

She took the opportunity to rip off my mask. She fell to the ground, wailing.

"The big star is hitting people! Lydia is assaulting us!"

Callie froze for two seconds. Then she ripped off her own mask and fell to her knees in front of me. She begged.

"Lydia, please! I know you've never liked me. You're more famous than me. I can handle you hitting me and scolding me. But my mother is old. Please, don't hurt her."

Phones were out. Cameras were flashing. Callie was putting on the performance of a lifetime.

I should have protected my reputation. I should have covered my face and run.

But I couldn't control myself. I grabbed a fistful of Callies hair.

I stared into her eyes, my voice ice cold. "You really are a devoted daughter. Sister. Then I won't hold back. Whatever your mother did to me, I'm giving it back to you."

I swung my bag and smashed it into Callies face. Again. And again