CHAPTER FOUR: POISONED IN SILK

ELLA

The door shut behind them, the thud echoing through the room. Anya rubbed my shoulders gently.

"You know how your mother-in-law is; don't take it to heart," Anya said gently. I nodded, not because I did not mind, but because I minded too much.

Jaelle must have been a woman who would take anything from anyone, especially this mother-in-law of hers. I was still trying to process everything that was happening when the door opened and a woman in a shimmery black floor-length dress entered.

She looked like she had been carved from the same stone as Lady Eleanor – elegant, poised and with an unreadable air around her. Anya's sigh beside me told me that she was bad news, but I was curious. Her eyes scanned the room. Was it the first time she was here? They landed on me, and for a second, I saw desire flicker in her eyes before the corner of her lips drew into a smile.

"I came as fast as I heard..." She stopped, put one foot forward, and rushed to me at once, sitting by the bed and holding my hand. "You had us all worried," she added. She did not sound worried; it was almost as if she was disappointed that I had woken up. My mind raced with what to do. I could not recognise her, and even worse, was she a friend or a foe?

"Who are you?" My voice was too low as I slipped my hand out of hers. She tilted her head slightly, the blonde hair falling over her shoulders, and bold purple lips parting slightly.

"Are you playing games with me? Jaelle," she spoke as her lisp trembled in amusement.

"No," I shook my head because of all the people to play games with, I definitely was not interested in her, who looked scheming.

"The doctors said it is some kind of post-coma trauma, and she would be fine soon." Anya chimed in before I could ask her once again and risk looking like a fool.

"Oh," her mouth rounded and her eyes raised in the small smile she was trying to hide. She leaned in, and the smell of roses mixed with some oud caught my nose. There was something underneath it that was almost fearful, but no matter how much I sniffed, I could not get it.

"Are you saying she remembers nothing?" She asked, and I nodded. How could I tell them that I could not remember the life of Jaelle, but the memories from my life as Ella Carradine stayed in my memory? "Nothing at all?" she asked again, her eyebrows going up and her tone as well. She was fishing, but why?

"And here I was thinking we'd find the culprit of the accident and why you fell as soon as you woke up." Her shoulders relaxed a little too much, or maybe I was being paranoid. A woman like her did not seem like good news, and my gut was screaming at me. Do not believe her, but what could I believe?

"You still haven't told me your name." I murmured lowly and then strengthened my shoulders to tower over hers.

"Oh yeah, right!" she nods and then smiles sweetly. "Clarisse," she adds.

Her presence already made my skin crawl and my stomach tie in knots, but the sound of her name rang an alarm in my ear endlessly. She held the smile a little too long as he continued inspecting me.

"It's a miracle you survived the fall, isn't it?" she added.

"Of course it is," Anya interjected. From her one-sided frown, I could tell she did not like her either. Well, gut feelings never lie, do they? Just like I had the hunch that Marcus was cheating on me, I refused to believe it until I saw it with my eyes.

"And as soon as she gets her memory back – which is very soon." Anya's eyes ran up and down her body, and her eyebrows rose. "We would find out who did this."

"I only hope we do." The door opened, and Bastina stepped in.

"Clarisse. You are here!" He sounded like he was both happy and sad to see her. His hand pushed into his pocket as his eyes stayed on me.

"I had to be; I heard she was awake, so..."

"And who informed you?"

"Your mother!" she said as if it were her birthright. She got up from the bed and catwalked to Bastina. Each sound of her heel clicking against the wall pounded at my heart like a drum. She stopped in front of him, and I watched as her eyes ran up and down him.

The way her eyes trailed down his chest told me everything — she wanted him. My stomach clenched, and I felt my fingers clutch the bedding beside me, the fabric soft and plush in between my fingers. But why was I angry at that? This was not my life, and he was not my husband, but I did not think I could sit by and watch another woman destroy another happy relationship. If I were given a chance, then this would be different.

"If you have a moment, then we could..." She paused, and then her tone got more slurry. "Talk about the business," she added. I needed more information; were they business partners?

"Jaelle just woke up; I think it would be inappropriate right now," Bastina responded, and for the first time, I was so glad that a man had common sense.

"I know that, but..."

"I will have my assistant discuss that with you," he cut her off, and I watched her face clench and then relax at once. She pushed a deceiving smile and then nodded.

"I guess it can wait till tomorrow." She turned to me again so I could fully see her face. "If there is anything you want me to help out with, please do not hesitate to let me know."

I sat there blank-faced, and my eyes bored into her intensely. I wanted to tell her that I did not need anything from her, but Bastina beat me to it.

"I was thinking of hosting a dinner to celebrate my wife." He walks over her and comes close to me. "Just a few family and friends. Do you think you can plan it?"

"Of course," she jumped at the offer without thinking too much about it. "I am sure I can handle that."

"Okay, good." His eyes moved from Anya to Clarisse. "Jaelle needs to rest now." He was asking them to leave, and I was grateful, but I did not know what was supposed to happen when it was just the two of us left in the room.

"Aren't you going to walk us out?" Clarisse asked, and then her eyes fell on me. "Or maybe you want to..."

"You can go." The words were not mine, but they hung in the air, polite, borrowed and weak. Jaelle was used to conceding for her to win, and even though she was not the one in here, her habits were locked up in me.

"See that? She does not mind." She held her hand and dragged him out.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Anya asked, and I nodded. "I will check on you tomorrow," she added and left me alone in the room.

Was Anya to be trusted? She was too nice and too good to be real. Clarisse rubbed me the wrong way. My thoughts stopped midway when I realised that I was already getting comfortable in this life that was not mine.

I walked to the mirror and stared at myself. “If this is my second chance,” I whispered to the reflection, “then this time, I’ll win.