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The sharp antiseptic smell hit me, making my head spin for a second.
Suddenly I saw eighteen-year-old Alexander Fitzgerald clearly.
He always sat in the front row, back ramrod straight.
His shirt collar had been washed so many times it was faded, the edges frayed into fine threads.
Once he missed three days of class with a fever.
I found him at a construction site, hauling cement bags under the sun.
I stuffed five thousand dollars into his backpack.
He chased me down three blocks to return it, said hoarsely, "Miss Sterling, please let me keep my dignity."
After that I started “accidentally” bringing extra breakfast, “casually” lending him my notes.
One freezing winter night he appeared outside my dorm, clutching two roasted sweet potatoes to keep them warm.
He stood in the biting wind until lights-out.
His first words:
“Victoria, can you wait for me?”
Years later he built his company from nothing and took it public.
That night he held me tight until dawn, voice thick with emotion.
“Back then I slept three hours a night. I was terrified I couldn’t keep up, that you’d find out I had to save for a whole week just to buy you coffee.”
It wasn’t until he met my parents—until he saw my father in our living room—that the truth hit him.
Victoria Sterling’s “Sterling”… was the Sterling family.
He later told me that at that moment all he could think was:
“I gave everything I had, only to discover my finish line is still miles short of your starting point.”
After learning who I really was, Alexander turned into a machine.
He killed himself closing deals, chasing projects, ruining his health to claw his way into Manhattan’s highest circles.
Then he paved an entire garden with 99,999 gold-dipped roses to propose.
What did he say then?
That his only reason for living was to become a man worthy of me.
The anesthesia wore off. A faint sting bloomed across my chest.
Alexander’s love for me had been…
grand and brilliant.
Sadly, fleeting.
Promises are only beautiful the moment they’re spoken.
The “forever” we swore didn’t even survive seven years.
“Miss Sterling?”
My eyes flew open. My fingertips brushed cold wetness at the corner of my eye.
An ache bloomed in my chest, impossible to suppress.
The butler’s voice was soft.
“Mr. Fitzgerald has returned.”
I looked down.
The skin was perfectly replaced—new, slightly pink, smooth.
No trace remained.
Alexander walked in carrying shopping bags.
He smiled at me the way he always did.
Set the bags down—logos from the most exclusive jewelers—and reached to touch my face.
“Victoria, Chloe went too far today.”
“I bought you a new necklace. Let it go, okay?”
The medical team was gone. Only security remained in the shadows.
Alexander noticed nothing unusual. He smiled again, opening a velvet box.
Diamonds caught the light inside.
“I promise I won’t let Chloe mess around anymore.”
The unconscious tenderness in his voice when he said her name was unmistakable.
I stood silent, watching him.
The watch on his wrist was worth millions now.
The frayed collar long gone, replaced by mother-of-pearl buttons.
Even the gardenia scent clinging to his skin matched Chloe’s hair.
Seeing all that cultivated privilege, I suddenly remembered that winter night at eighteen—
him standing in the snow, down leaking from his coat sleeves, holding sweet potatoes to keep them warm.
“Victoria?”
He stepped closer when I didn’t answer.
The gardenia scent grew stronger.
Chloe burst in, stumbling, throwing herself into his arms.
“Alex!”
“She had them hold me down… and cut the skin right off me…”
“You promised you’d always protect me! It hurts so much…”
Alexander’s breathing caught.
His gaze flicked from the bandage on her chest to my smooth, unmarked skin.
His voice turned hard.
“Victoria, what have you become?”
“Something so… vicious?”
Chloe sobbed softly against him.
But when her eyes met mine, they burned with pure challenge and triumph.
“She’s so young! What’s she supposed to do with a scar that huge?”
His tone sharpened. “Do you have to destroy her?”
Watching him shield her, I suddenly remembered eighteen-year-old Alexander—
so careful, always afraid to hold me too tightly.
His first promise had been to protect me forever.
I gently touched the new skin on my chest, enduring the sting.
“Did you ever think about what I would do with those words?”
“She tattooed them on me. I took a piece of her skin. Fair trade.”
Alexander opened his mouth. No sound came out.
Seeing him hesitate, Chloe burrowed deeper into his arms and shrieked, hysterical.
“Alex! I’m pregnant with your baby!”
“You can’t let her do this! Take me away! Take me away, please!!”
