Sun rays landed on her flawless thighs.

A woman laid down flat on her back by the King's bed, the night robe shaping her physique, and it was smooth, right on her abdomen.

Inhaling a larger amount of air, she tried to fall back to sleep, but her mind stayed awake.

Hearing a distant conversation outside of room, she slowly opened her eyes, and plastered it upon the ceiling.

A fully-groomed ceiling with the chandelier's shadow complete with its radiating bulbs was the first thing she saw.

The woman processed everything, but there was nothing to process in the first place.

She swallowed, clearing her throat, and stood up, leaning her elbow in the warm comforter.

The scent was unfamiliar, too. More like a man was residing here.

Squinting her eyes, she observed the whole area. The bedroom was enormous, but it's empty. No one was present besides her.

Pursing her lips, she checked her clothes, and saw the pale, peach night robe ending above her knee.

The woman pulled the other ends of the silk around her delicate shoulder, and she realized what she was doing.

She nearly shrieked, but she covered her mouth fast. Soothing the cloth, it was extravagant.

Checking every single thread of it, she furrowed her eyebrows, and wondered who gave her this cloth.

She racked her brain repeatedly, but there was nothing.

Everything in her mind was now gone. What happened the night before she fell asleep?

"A fine cloth no one can afford but the rich," she whispered. A faint laugh reached her ears.

Turning to the door, it was coming outside of the bedroom.

It sounded like a young man hollering with his thin lips. High-pitched, but hoarse, and so disturbing to even hear.

If she'd hear it every morning after she wakes up, she'd go crazy.

"That was insane." Shifting in her seat, she scrutinized more. Still, there was nothing.

Swinging her legs at the side, she pulled open one of the cabinet drawers, and saw… a knife!

The woman froze, wondering what a sharp knife was doing at one of the drawers.

She looked around, checking if there was someone hiding behind the cabinets.

Her eyes landed on the knife's sharp surface once again.

She successfully picked it up, swiftly as possible, but there was someone who burst the door open.

The woman clambered underneath the comforters, hid the knife inside her night robe, between her cleavage and snuck in some air.

"Do you think… she's alright here?" A man's voice resonated all over the room.

The woman's heart pounded louder, and she didn't know how to calm it down.

Staring at the comforter's plump beddings, she waited for the two men to converse at each other.

"We don't know, Randall. We have to confirm it with Leo. Besides, he's the one managing this mansion, and not us." A manly, hoarse voice answered.

She widened her eyes, thinking of her situation, and why was she hiding.

Is it because she doesn't know who is she, or because she doesn't know where she is?

Tilting her head to one side, she tried to think of her name, of her place, of who was the owner of this bed.

Everything is blank, similar to a white piece of paper, of a whiteboard with nothing but a temporary marker and eraser.

"What exact situation she's in? Do you know her name?" The manly, hoarse voice asked. The other one sighed. Silence came, but then he answered, yes.

The woman's brain stopped working.

An adrenaline rush coursed through her body, and it made her jumped from her place, setting aside the comforter.

The two men got startled by what happened.

The woman hoisted the knife's handle, aiming it at the two of them.

"She's…" The woman glared. She doesn't know what she's doing, but her body had taken control.

There was a short man behind the tall one, and even though she saw their faces, she couldn't say their names.

The woman doesn't know anything about them, even a single thing.

She went out of the bed as quickly as possible, slashing the knife in front of them, and finally, after a few moments of finding herself, she managed to croak out, "Don't come near me if you don't know my name."

The two men glanced at each other. She's still on a night robe, but she has gone feisty.

This woman was spontaneous, as the tallest man thought.

He signed to his colleague not to aim a pistol.

They should calm down, and not treat her like an enemy, or else, she'll slash that knife unknowingly. To defend herself, of course.

"Calm down, young woman---"

"You don't know my name! Where am I?! Why am I in here?!" she shrieked.

She has been waiting for it since. The man sighed, ordered something behind him.

It was just a finger, but the short man understood it, and stood straight, bowing down his head, as if obliging with his command.

The woman creased her forehead. What was this man doing?

"We can talk without using a knife, young woman." His eyes were soft, but underneath that coat, there might be a gun in a holster.

The woman couldn't be deceived.

Silence consumed the huge room with nothing but the tension in their eyes.

The man placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm her down. But it was impossible to let her relax.

Even him… the man didn't know her name.

"How can I not aim this knife on you when you can't even say my name? Where am I? Where did I come from?" Gripping the handle of the knife, the sharp tip pointed right at his eyes.

The man knew this woman fighting back if being aggravated.

As he tried to come closer, she swung on her bare heels. Her hair swirled around, and slung her wrist right in his neck.

It was fast. So fast that the man didn't even know what happened.

The woman's body was the one thinking, and not her brain.

She's disoriented. Not to mention that racking her brain of information was useless.

The woman imprisoned the tall man right in front of her chest, aimed the sharp tip right at the side of his neck, and kicked the back of his knee.

The man knelt down.

There's nothing he can do but to oblige, or else, this woman will slit his throat.

The woman threatened the knife, asking, "What is my name?"

It's something the man couldn't answer. He closed his eyes, huffed for a few seconds, assuring, "Wait for my---"

The door burst open.

Several of men who have the same outfit went inside the bedroom, and there was a gap in the middle.

The woman knelt down behind the man, piercing the tip a little in his skin, and hushed, "Who are all of you?! What is this place?! What is my name?! Who am I?!"

All of the questions rushed out of her mouth that fast.

There was a gap on the center, and she wondered the use.

The woman tilted her head to one side, whispered on the man's ear, asking, "How many are you here? Are you trying to kill me?"

"What? We're not murderers, young lady."

"So what is the purpose of the knife in that drawer?! That was where I got it," she shrugged.

The man turned to the woman, meeting her cold eyes, and waited for Leo Luciano, the leaders of Cassanos, to show up.

"Now, answer me. Who am I?"

"You're my wife." A gentle voice resonated all over the room, and the woman widened her eyes. She's the only one who's surprised.

All of them clenched their jaws, snickering, as if trying to comprehend why she has done that scene.

Leo went inside, straightening the crease of his coat.

"Laina, stop that." Randall, the one who was kneeling down, knew he's putting an act.

He's trying to find a solution to let the situation be under control, and Randall didn't know what his plan was.

As Leo hunkered down to retrieve the knife from the woman's hand, she got awestruck.

Hooded and almond eyes, thick eyebrows, pointed and prominent nose, glassy skin, even her lips… it was pinkish.

A warm look in his eyes.

He's taller than the one kneeling down.

His coat has a pure cerulean color, and his tie was black. Why are they wearing formal clothes? Is there an event?

Leo retrieved the knife, held her hand, and there she was, on a peach night robe, staring straight at him.

He soothed her cheek, saying, "It is okay. I'll say something to you after they went out, okay? Stay put in your bed."

Leo turned to the man kneeling down, and nodded.

Laina, as they said her name was, couldn't take her eyes off of the man named Leo.

"His name is Randall. I reminded you every day of that, Laina."

So she has… an amnesia? A what? What is going on with her?

Randall, as the man he threatened earlier, nodded, reassuring her.

Standing up from the floor, she removed her eyes from Leo, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll get back to you later, love. I'll just have something to say to the team."

Randall tucked in Laina in the comforter. She isn't giving an answer.

"Are we okay with that? Let's have some breakfast later."

Laina nodded, calming down slowly.