?Chapter 1164:


    “Keep searching,” Luca cut in, his voice sharp.


    Waiting until morning might be toote.


    He prayed they would find William quickly. He couldn’t inform anyone yet.


    Fatigue wed at him, but Luca shook it off and pushed forward beneath the moonless sky.


    Today, Nina had slipped through his fingers—a failure he couldn’t deny—but William had to be found first. Nina could wait.


    Daniel and Norene Carter would soon notice their daughter missing. Luca only prayed he would find William before then.


    The clouds swallowed the moon. Choria braced for a long, merciless night.


    In the days that followed, Marc never left Ste’s side. Without work, and with the woman he loved in danger, he threw himselfpletely into caring for her.


    He had reflected deeply. Ste had always treated him well, and he had been blind.


    Now, with rity in his heart, he could only hope that saving her might soften her hatred.


    Three dayster, Ste’s eyshes fluttered.


    Marc’s heart leapt.


    Slowly, her eyes opened, confusion clouding their beauty. “Marc?” Her voice was frail. “Where… am I?”


    Marc nearly cried. He sprang from his chair and rushed to her bedside. “You’re in the hospital. You were in aa. How do you feel?”


    Ste blinked, trying to sit up, but her body was weak. She sank back into the pillow and pressed a hand to her temple. “I… don’t understand. We were supposed to go try on wedding gowns tomorrow. How did I end up in a hospital?”


    A faint memory tugged at her—one month until the wedding, a nned fitting at the bridal shop… and then everything went nk.


    And Marc said she had been in aa. How long had it been?


    “Marc, did I forget something? Why can’t I remember? Why thea?”


    Marc froze.


    Wedding gown fitting?


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    Wasn’t she supposed to be trying on gowns with William? Nina had kidnapped her on her wedding day. The gown had already been chosen. Why… why was Ste talking about a fitting?


    Her gaze was earnest, innocent, and utterly trusting. There was no sarcasm, no joke—only confusion.


    Marc pressed the call button. “Doctor! She’s awake!”


    The doctor arrived, calm but efficient, ran a few quick tests, then led Marc into his office.


    “Toxin-induced selective amnesia,” he said. “She’s lost chunks of memory. It could be temporary… or it could be permanent. Be careful. Ease her back into life gently—don’t push.”


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