Alexander's apartment was located on the top floor of a high-rise building in Manhattan's Upper West Side, accessible via a private elevator. When the elevator doors opened, I was surprised by the sight before me—not the cold modern style I had expected, but a warm, almost cozy space with art hanging on the walls and shelves filled with books.

"Not what you imagined?" Alexander noticed my expression, his lips curving slightly upward.


"Definitely not," I admitted. "I expected to see more glass and steel, less... signs of life."

"Most people have that impression," he said, taking off his coat. "It's an advantage for me. People see what they expect to see, not who I really am."

This statement made me think. In my past life, I never truly understood Alexander Blake. I fell in love with a phantom, an image of him I had created, not the real him.


Alexander led me into the living room and poured two glasses of whiskey. "You were brave tonight," he said, handing me a glass. "But also reckless."

"Sometimes, you need to take risks to get rewards," I replied, sipping the drink.


"You could have told me the details of your plan," he said, with a hint of reproach in his voice. "I could have protected you better."

"I needed to make sure Sophia and Katherine’s reactions were genuine," I explained. "If everything seemed too perfect, they might have gotten suspicious."

Alexander pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Clever. But dangerous."

We sat on the living room sofa, with New York's night lights visible through the window.

"What now?" Alexander asked. "Katherine and your stepsister were caught in the act, but this won't stop your stepmother."

"I need to show my father the evidence," I said. "The copies of Victoria's diary, medical records, tonight's recording. Everything."

"Do you think he'll believe it?"

I hesitated. In my previous life, my father had consistently refused to see Victoria's true nature until it was too late.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But I have to try."

Alexander was silent for a moment, then said: "There's one more thing you should know. About your father's finances."

I looked up at him. "What is it?"

"The Stanford Group did indeed invest your father's funds through our company, but not in the conventional way." Alexander's expression grew serious. "They used a complex structure that was essentially money laundering."

"Money laundering?" I asked, shocked. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Alexander said. "But my team has been investigating. We've found that large sums were transferred to offshore accounts and then flowed back into seemingly legitimate investments."

This aligned with what I had discovered in my previous life, but with Alexander's help, we now had more details.

"Victoria has been stealing my father's money," I said. "She's been doing it for years."

Alexander nodded. "It appears so. And Katherine and her father helped her complete these transactions."

"We need all the evidence," I said firmly. "Enough evidence for the police to get involved."

"My team is gathering it," Alexander assured me. "By tomorrow morning, we should have a complete report."

I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me, as the tension and pressure of the day finally caught up with me. Alexander noticed.

"You should rest," he said, his voice gentle. "The guest room is ready."

He led me to a spacious guest room with a large bed and an attached bathroom.

"If you need anything," he said, "my room is at the end of the hallway."

When he turned to leave, I called after him. "Alexander."

He looked back at me.

"Thank you," I said. "For tonight. For believing me."

His expression softened somewhat. "I believe what I see, Ella. And what I see is an extraordinary woman fighting for those she loves."

After the door closed, I sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating this new version of Alexander Blake. He was so different from the cold, calculating man in my memory. Or perhaps, he had always been this way, and I had never truly seen it.

The next morning, I was awakened by the ringing phone. Alexander was already up, and I could hear him talking quietly in the living room.

After I finished washing up, I put on a set of clean clothes prepared by Alexander—simple jeans and a shirt, obviously purchased by his assistant. When I walked into the living room, Alexander was finishing a call.

"Good morning," he said, handing me a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I expected," I admitted. "Any news?"

Alexander's expression turned serious. "Yes. Not good news. Your father was taken to the hospital last night. Heart attack."

My heart sank. "What? Is he okay?"

"He's stable, but the situation is serious. Victoria is with him."

I needed to go to the hospital, but I knew Victoria would be waiting for me there. This could be another trap.

"Any other news?" I asked.

Alexander nodded. "My team has completed the investigation. We have solid evidence of Victoria and the Stanford family's fraud. Evidence sufficient to bring criminal charges."

"I need that evidence," I said. "Now."

Alexander took out a folder. "Here are copies of everything. The original files have been safely stored, just in case."

I quickly browsed through the documents—bank transfer records, offshore account details, forged investment documents. These, together with copies of Victoria's diary and medical records, formed an irrefutable chain of evidence.

"I need to go to the hospital," I said. "But first, I need to see my mother and Oliver."

Alexander nodded. "My car and driver are waiting downstairs for you. He will take you anywhere and then wait for you."

I looked up at him. "You're not coming with me?"

"I have some matters to attend to," he said. "Regarding Katherine and her father. But I'll join you as soon as possible."

I understood what he meant. As the CEO of Blake Enterprises, he needed to deal with the fraud that the company might be involved in.

"Thank you," I said. "For everything."

Alexander's eyes softened. "Be careful, Ella. Victoria is more dangerous now than ever before."

In Oliver's apartment, my mother was anxiously waiting. When I entered, she immediately embraced me.

"Ella! Thank God you're alright. We heard about what happened last night."

"I'm fine, Mom," I reassured her. "But Dad's in the hospital. Heart attack."

My mother's face turned pale. "Richard? Is he okay?"

"He's stable, but I need to see him." I turned to Oliver. "We have all the evidence. Enough to prosecute Victoria and the Stanford family."

Oliver examined the documents and nodded. "These are indeed powerful. I'll contact the police immediately."

"No," I said. "Not yet. I need to see my father first. He should hear the truth from me, not from the police."

Oliver hesitated. "Victoria will be there. It could be dangerous."

"I know," I said. "But I have to do this."

My mother gripped my hand. "I'll go with you."

I shook my head. "It's too dangerous, Mom. We can't predict how Victoria will react if she sees you."

"Ella," my mother's voice was firm. "I've been hiding for twenty years. No more hiding. Richard is my husband. If he's ill, my place is by his side."

I saw the determination in her eyes and knew I couldn't persuade her.

"All right," I finally agreed. "But we need to be careful."

Outside the private room at New York Presbyterian Hospital, a security guard stood at the door. When we approached, he straightened his posture.

"Sorry, only family members are allowed in."

I showed my ID. "I'm Ella Haston, Richard Haston's daughter."

The security guard checked a list, then nodded. "Miss Haston, you may go in. But this lady..."

"She is my mother," I said firmly. "Elizabeth Haston. Richard's legal wife."

The security guard looked at the list in confusion. "But the list says Mrs. Haston is already inside..."

"That's my stepmother," I explained. "Please let us in."

The security guard hesitated for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside.

When we walked into the hospital room, Victoria was sitting by my father's bedside, holding his hand. Seeing us, her face turned pale.

"You!" she stood up, pointing at my mother. "How dare you come here!"

My father, weak but conscious, turned toward the doorway. When he saw my mother, his eyes widened.

"Elizabeth?" his voice was almost a whisper. "That's impossible..."

"Richard," my mother said softly, walking toward the bed. "I'm here."

Victoria stood in her way. "Leave! You're not allowed here!"

"Enough, Victoria," I said coldly. "The game is over."

I took out the folder and dumped its contents onto the bed where my father could see.

"This is the evidence," I said. "Proof of how Victoria drugged mom to make her appear mentally unstable. Proof of how she stole your money and conspired with the Stanford family to commit fraud. Proof that she planned to do the same to me."

Victoria's face twisted. "She's lying! Richard, you can't believe her! She's as mad as her mother!"

My father picked up the documents and began to read. His expression changed from confusion to shock, then anger.

"Is this true?" he finally asked, his voice trembling. "You drugged Elizabeth? You stole my money?"

"Richard, darling," Victoria tried to salvage the situation. "These are forgeries! Ella is trying to divide our family!"

"What about your diary?" I asked. "Is that a forgery too?"

I pointed to the photocopied pages in the documents, covered in Victoria's own handwriting, detailing her plans.

Panic flashed in Victoria's eyes. She suddenly turned to me, the mask on her face completely slipping away, revealing the anger and hatred underneath.

"You ungrateful little wretch!" she hissed. "I gave you everything! I took care of you when your own mother was too crazy to care for you!"

"You stole everything from me," I replied calmly. "You stole my mother, my father, my childhood. You tried to steal my future."

A flash of madness crossed Victoria's eyes. She suddenly pulled out a small knife from her pocket and lunged at me.

"Victoria, no!" My father tried to stand up, but he was too weak.

I instinctively stepped back, but Victoria was too fast. Just as the knife was about to pierce me, a strong hand grabbed Victoria's wrist.

Alexander Blake stood there, a cold fury burning in his eyes. He attempted to twist Victoria's wrist, but she struggled frantically, the blade slicing across his arm, leaving a bloody streak. Alexander didn't flinch; instead, he applied more force, finally knocking the knife to the ground.

"Enough," he said coldly.

The door suddenly burst open, and police officers poured in. Oliver stood behind them, his face bearing a serious expression.

"Victoria Haston," an officer said, "you're under arrest on suspicion of fraud, attempted murder, and multiple other charges."

As the police handcuffed Victoria, she screamed and struggled. "This isn't fair! Everything I did was for Sophia! To give her the life she deserved!"

"Sophia has confessed everything," Alexander said calmly. "She's cooperating with the police in exchange for leniency."

Victoria's face turned pale. "No... she wouldn't..."

"She will," I said. "Because you taught her the most important lesson—self-preservation."

When the police took Victoria away, the atmosphere in the room became quiet and heavy. My father looked at my mother, his eyes filled with remorse and questions.

"Elizabeth," he said softly. "I didn't know... I never..."

"I know, Richard," my mother said, sitting beside his bed. "We have a lot to talk about, many wounds to heal. But now, you need to rest and recover."

I watched my parents, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. In my previous life, they never had the chance to reunite. My mother died, and my father was destroyed by grief and guilt. But this time, they had a second chance.

Alexander came to my side and gently held my hand. "It's over," he whispered.

I shook my head. "No, this is just the beginning."

As night fell, the hospital visitors gradually departed. My father had already fallen asleep, and my mother decided to stay by his side overnight. Alexander insisted on taking me home, despite his arm still being wrapped in bandages.

"You should rest," I said, noticing the fatigue on his face. "You lost blood today."

"I'm fine," he insisted, but I could see his pain.

We took the elevator down to the hospital parking lot, walking silently toward his car. Everything that had happened today—Victoria's arrest, Katherine's testimony, my parents' reunion—seemed to have left us exhausted, unable to speak.

When we reached the car, Alexander suddenly stopped and turned to me.

"Ella," his voice was low and tense. "Today when I saw Victoria threatening you with a knife... I've never felt so terrified."

I looked up at him, seeing the emotions in his eyes—fear, relief, and something deeper.

"Me too," I admitted softly. "When I saw you injured..."

My words trailed off as Alexander suddenly leaned forward, his lips finding mine. The kiss began gentle and tentative, but quickly became more passionate, as if we were both confirming that the other was truly safe, truly still alive.

My arms encircled his neck, carefully avoiding his injured arm. His other hand caressed my cheek, holding it gently, as if I were some precious treasure.

When we finally parted, we were both somewhat breathless. Alexander's forehead rested against mine, his eyes closed, as if savoring the moment.

"I almost lost you," he whispered, his voice carrying a slight tremor.

His words reminded me of my previous life, my death, and the memories I couldn't share with anyone. In that world, Alexander had never protected me like this, had never cared for me this way.

"But you haven't lost me," I answered, my fingers gently caressing his cheek. "Thanks to you, we're both safe."

Alexander kissed me again, more gently this time, but with equal passion. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with a light I had never seen in my previous life—hope, and perhaps love.

"Let's go home," he said softly, opening the car door. "Today has been long enough."

As we drove away from the hospital, my hand remained firmly clasped in his. I knew that whatever dangers Victoria's escape might pose, whatever challenges awaited us in the future, at least for this moment, we were no longer alone.

We had each other. Perhaps, that was enough.