1. The Deeper Deception
Airon's previously cold face was now replaced with a definite look of shock and concern after Helena finished throwing up. He quickly turned to the executive assistant, barking a command: "Bring her some warm water and a fresh towel. Immediately."
The assistant hurried to obey. Airon waited until the assistant had left, then looked back at Helena, who was leaning against the basin, utterly weak.
Helena's expression had brightened momentarily with the relief of having expelled the medicine, but she quickly saw the look on Airon's face—a look that indicated he was about to press her for answers.
Airon walked closer, his voice low and serious. "Helena, that was not an act. You are genuinely sick. I need you to tell me exactly what you remember about the last 24 hours."
Oh, honey. The moment I break the amnesia plot, I'm toast. This isn't a gentle second-chance novel, this is a hostile takeover. Aika's inner nerd took over. Must maintain the façade. Trauma, trauma, tears.
Helena stumbled back to the couch, pulling the cashmere tight. She forced herself to look confused and distressed, channeling the perfect victim persona.
"I... I truly don't know, Airon," she whispered, tears suddenly welling up (genuine stress tears). "I keep seeing flashes of traffic, of a bus... and then I woke up here. That's all. I don't know why I ran, or why I threw up. Everything is blurred. It's so scary."
Airon watched her for a long moment. He didn't believe the simple amnesia story, especially after her earlier outbursts. But he saw the raw, genuine distress.
"Fine, you idiot," Airon stated, his voice tight with frustration and concern. "Just rest. I'm telling you this for your own safety—you will not leave this room. I will deal with the Chairman, and I will personally vet every report that comes to you."
He stepped toward the door. "You will eat, you will rest, and you will not attempt to run again. If you show any signs of instability, I will personally have you admitted to the hospital. Do you understand, Helena?"
Helena nodded meekly, keeping her eyes downcast. "Yes, Airon."
The moment the door shut, Helena collapsed back onto the couch, panting.
Well, Chapter 4 is already exhausting. Crisis averted. I guess being grounded is better than being poisoned, Aika thought. Now I need a new strategy. Running is out. Dying is out. Time for the 'Chill, Observe, and Wait for Plot Hole' tactic.
2. Forced to Face the Chairman
Airon's long stride took him quickly across the room and toward the door. He was already pulling out his phone to call the Chairman when the device in his hand vibrated violently, displaying the expected contact: "Chairman D'Arven."
Airon answered the call, holding the phone away from his ear. The Chairman's voice was a roar of fury that echoed slightly through the vast room.
"Airon, where the hell are you? And where is she? I need you both in my office downtown in ten minutes! If you take more than a minute past that, be ready to face the consequences! Tell that girl I mean it!"
Airon sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. He looked back at Helena, who was still huddled on the couch, looking pale and unwell. The plan to quarantine her was instantly dead.
He ended the call and walked back to the couch.
"Your father," Airon stated curtly. "He doesn't believe your 'shock' story and wants to see you immediately. In his office. Let's go fast."
Helena's eyes widened in panic. Oh, great. Boss Battle. I need an employee handbook and a corporate jargon dictionary, stat.
"No! I can't go!" Helena protested, her voice weak. "I just threw up! I have amnesia! Tell him I'm sick!"
Airon looked entirely unsympathetic. "Do you think the Chairman cares? If we don't present you as stable and in control, he will transfer your shares to his subsidiary and publicly humiliate you. You need to come with me, now."
He didn't wait for her to argue. He grabbed her arm, pulling her off the couch.
"Go put on some shoes. Five minutes. You got it."
"Let him send the shares! Who cares!" Helena muttered, still clinging to the idea of freedom. I already died once, losing a few million is literally a side quest.
"Yeah, when your memories come back, you are going to hit me," Airon said dryly, anticipating Helena's fury at losing money. "So for now, get up and change your clothes! You can't go like that."
Helena just stared at him, exhausted and desperate. "I don't even know anything about business or IT! What am I supposed to do there?"
But she knew resisting meant Airon would physically drag her, so Helena reluctantly got up. She pointed a defiant finger at the wall of expensive gowns. "I am not going to wear those clothes! They are not my type, got it? I am going as I am right now!"
Airon looked at the bizarre, thick, layered outfit—a fashion disaster. He sighed, rubbing his temples in defeat.
"Fine. Just put on some shoes," he conceded. "We are already late."
Airon waited only long enough for Helena to swap her silk slippers for some flat designer loafers.
Scene Transition: As soon as they stepped out of the private wing, Helena felt a wave of crushing social anxiety. The hall was lined with security staff and household servants, and they were all staring—at the infamous Miss Helena D'Arven in her strange, bulky, unfashionable attire.
Why is everyone staring? Oh, right. Famous rich girl, wearing a literal blanket indoors. I'm a mess. Chill, Aika, they're just paid to stare, she reminded herself. She instinctively started walking almost directly behind Airon, using his broad, powerful frame as a shield.
Minutes later, they were in the back of a luxury car, speeding downtown. Airon paid no mind, managing the crisis with cold, rapid-fire corporate language on his phone.
3. Facing the Chairman
The luxury car pulled into a private underground garage. They were whisked up a silent, exclusive elevator that opened directly into an immense executive office suite.
At the center of the room, behind a huge, glass-top desk, sat a man who radiated power like heat from a furnace: The Chairman, Helena D'Arven's father.
He didn't greet them. He simply placed a thick document on the desk and fixed his glare on his daughter.
"You took twelve minutes, Airon. Two minutes past the deadline." The Chairman's voice was quiet, but it carried the chilling weight of absolute authority.
He then looked at Helena—at her strange, shapeless outfit and her obvious fatigue.
"And look at you. You look like a sick nun trying to run a hedge fund."
Helena flinched, shrinking further.
Airon stepped forward immediately. "Uncle," Airon interjected, his voice firm but respectful. "Helena is suffering from severe post-concussion trauma. She has temporary amnesia. The doctor—"
"Silence, Airon," the Chairman cut him off. He leaned forward, his hands flat on the desk. "I don't care about a bump on the head. I care about the four hundred million shares you control, Helena. Now, sit down."
Helena sank into the nearest chair.
The Chairman picked up the thick document. "This is the acquisition proposal for Seta-Tech. You were personally scheduled to sign off on the final valuation yesterday. Now, tell me, Helena. Why should I trust you to manage the D'Arven Corp. controlling interest when you can't even tell me the projected Q3 growth metrics of our core media assets?"
Helena's mind went utterly blank. Q3 growth metrics? Seta-Tech? I thought Q3 was when finals were due! I have an Introvert's Handbook, not a Stock Market one. This is so unfair. This is like asking a history major to solve a physics problem.
The Chairman then looked at Airon. "Airon, leave the room. I will deal with my daughter alone."
Helena flinched. Oh, great. My only shield is gone. Solo mission initiated.
Airon hesitated, clearly worried, but the Chairman's order was absolute. He shot a brief, warning look at Helena—a look that said Stick to the script—and reluctantly exited the office.
As the heavy door clicked shut, sealing her alone with the terrifying Chairman, Aika took a deep breath.
Okay. Time to use my superpower: pretending to be completely clueless. I'm an introverted nerd from the future, my greatest skill is avoidance.
The Chairman watched her silent, internal struggle, misinterpreting her terror as defiant silence.
"Answer me, Helena," the Chairman said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level of cold control. "Where are the Q3 growth metrics?"
Just keep hitting the amnesia button. It's the only functional escape key I have.
Helena looked up, her face pale but sincere. "Sorry, Father, but I truly don't remember a single thing. I can't even remember your name clearly, much less any metrics."
The reply she got was a deafening blast of reality. The Chairman slammed his fist onto the glass desk—not in blind rage, but in calculated, terrifying disappointment.
The sound alone caused Helena to jump violently in her seat.
"Don't insult my intelligence, Helena!" the Chairman roared, the scolding instantly loud and sharp. "A concussion does not remove a lifetime of financial knowledge! Amnesia does not excuse sloth!"
He pointed a commanding finger at the Seta-Tech document. "If you cannot recall the Q3 metrics, you are either a liar trying to evade responsibility, or you have been grossly negligent in your duties, which means you are unfit to manage your shares."
He leaned back, his eyes boring into her. "Which is it, Helena? The excuse of a child, or the negligence of a fool?"
4. The Meltdown and The Shadow's Guard
The Chairman continued, his voice dropping to a colder, more measured tone that sent a shiver of fear through Helena.
"You deserve to just stay at home, wasting my time, competing with your brothers. Do you even have any idea how much both boys work hard, huh?"
The comparison stung. Ugh. Corporate Nepotism 101. Why do all fathers in these stories think comparing their kids is motivation? Aika felt the familiar, crushing weight of the Chairman's disappointment. He really thinks I'm worthless. Wait, he's going to strip me of the shares, then I have no money, and then I die of plot sickness? I need those shares to pay for a private plot escape!
Helena looked up, her lower lip trembling, but she forced her voice to be steady, making her confusion sound like genuine mental anguish.
"Brothers?" Helena whispered, her eyes wide with bewilderment, playing up the amnesia to the extreme. "I... I don't remember any brothers. I remember reading about a dark-haired boy who hated me and a sweet girl named Seraphina..."
She quickly leaned forward, her voice dropping conspiratorially, as if revealing a terrifying secret. "And there was a kitten! A tiny striped kitten that needed saving! Why do I remember the kitten, Father, but not Q3 growth metrics? Am I in the right house? Are these my clothes?" She gestured wildly at the silk and cashmere monstrosity she was wearing.
The Chairman froze. His rage instantly evaporated, replaced by a deep, unsettling concern. The mention of a "kitten" and "Seraphina" sounded like genuine, illogical hallucinations.
He immediately reached for the intercomm. "Airon, get back in here! Now!"
Airon rushed through the door a moment later, his expression immediately settling on the Chairman's shocked face and Helena's trembling figure.
The Chairman pointed a trembling hand toward Helena. "Go, send her home!" he ordered Airon.
He then looked back at his daughter, his voice laced with venomous disappointment. "It's better I had not have a daughter than having this."
Ah, snap. That hit too close to home. Aika's chill facade cracked, mixing her former life's pain with Helena's current humiliation. Why does every father in every reality say this same garbage? The realization turning her internal despair into reckless rage.
Helena jumped to her feet, abandoning the amnesia act for the truth of her pain.
"Then why do you have me, huh?!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "Why didn't you abort me? Having this type of family, it's better I never even be born at that moment!"
The Chairman stared at her, horrified silence filling the room. This was a complete, public psychological break.
Airon immediately moved, stepping between Helena and the Chairman.
"Uncle, this is serious. This is a clear psychological break," Airon stated firmly, taking control of the chaos. "We need to prioritize her stability, or she will cause a public scene that will affect the stock price."
Airon turned to Helena, grabbing her arm with a protective, firm grip. "You are going home now."
The Chairman, breathing heavily, raised his hand to stop them, his corporate logic finally kicking in. He pointed a finger, not at the shares, but at Airon.
"Airon, you are personally responsible for her. You will be her shadow—twenty-four hours a day. I want her silent, stable, and absolutely invisible until the doctor clears her. If she makes one public mistake, I will hold you personally responsible."
"Understood, Uncle," Airon replied, pulling Helena toward the door.
5. The Co-Conspirator Reveal (Conclusion)
Helena, too exhausted and emotionally spent, stumbled out of the Chairman's office and into the executive suite. A bodyguard, alerted by Airon, waited and escorted Helena to a waiting car, which whisked her back to the D'Arven estate. Airon followed closely in another car.
Well, that was certainly faster than therapy, Aika thought, slumped in the backseat. I almost got disinherited, but hey, now I have a personal bodyguard and a free pass to ignore corporate work. Worth it? Probably.
By the time Helena was back in her gigantic room, showered, and back into the thick, shapeless cashmere, Airon was already there. He was standing by the window, looking out at the vast garden, his arms crossed.
"Your father's orders are clear," Airon stated, his voice now purely factual and devoid of emotion. "I am your shadow. I will be using the guest suite attached to this room. I am responsible for your silence, stability, and invisibility."
He walked to the large television screen and displayed a detailed calendar.
"You have a formal dinner tonight at the Thalorien manor—our families' weekly gathering. It is mandatory. You will be polite, you will be quiet, and you will not mention kittens or memory loss. Do you understand, Helena?"
Helena stared at Airon, completely fed up with his presence and his patronizing tone.
"As well, don't you have any work? Are you unemployed or something?" Helena demanded, using a blunt, modern question that definitely wasn't in Helena's vocabulary. "And why are you even following the Chairman's orders? Are you his servant, like some type of personal body assistant or something?"
Airon, who was already thoroughly tired of her bizarre, unpredictable behavior, sighed deeply. He walked over to the armchair facing the couch where she was sitting and sat down heavily, leaning forward.
"Look," Airon said, his patience worn thin. "I think you forgot the agreement between the two of us."
"No, I don't," Helena replied honestly.
Airon sighed again, rubbing his forehead. He then recited the terms of their private pact, his tone flat and professional.
"You promised to help me out with Saira, and in return, I would help you in taking care of your companies' affairs and help you out whenever your father called you."
Saira? Oh, right! The heroine. So Helena was helping Airon get with the heroine, but why? This is more complicated than the syllabus.
Airon continued, his voice heavy with finality. "I am following the Chairman's orders because our companies are intertwined. If you lose your shares and destabilize D'Arven Corp., it ruins the entire Thalorien-D'Arven joint venture. And I lose my ability to approach Saira. You need me to keep you stable and silent to protect the deal."
He fixed her with a hard look. "I'm not your servant, Helena. I'm your partner. Your closest friend. I am your co-conspirator. You just forgot the plot.