Chapter 2 Whispers From The Past

• The night sky stretched endlessly above their heads, studded with stars and the shimmering city lights that looked like tiny fireflies from such a height. The glass elevator came to a soft halt, and its doors slid open to reveal a luxurious restaurant at the top of a skyscraper.
• The restaurant's interior radiated elegance, frozen in a kind of reverent silence. A grand crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting warm reflections onto ivory marble walls. Round tables were draped in deep navy velvet, adorned with tall glass vases holding white lilies, adding an exclusive intimacy to the already majestic space. The chairs, upholstered in dark brown leather and finished with brass studs, looked both sturdy and regal.
• There were no other guests.
• Only a few waiters stood silently in their black and white formal attire with bow ties. In the open kitchen, chefs worked with almost no sound. A manager in a charcoal-gray suit bowed respectfully as they entered.
• Elena walked slowly beside Dominic, looking breathtaking in a champagne-colored evening gown. The fabric flowed gracefully with each step, its A-line silhouette simple yet undeniably elegant. The back of the dress was partially open, adorned with translucent beadwork like dewdrops catching light. Her long hair was partially swept up into a soft bun, with the rest cascading gently down her back. A small crystal hairpin glimmered on the left side of her head. Her nude stiletto heels sparkled faintly beneath the hem of her dress. She looked like a modern aristocrat—delicate, sweet, but dangerous to touch without care.
• At her side, Dominic resembled a nobleman. His black suit was tailored to perfection, a classic design from an Italian fashion house, with subtle details at the shoulders and a sharp, commanding waistline. A crisp white shirt peeked from beneath his jacket, collar open without a tie, relaxed, yet intimidating. A luxury watch gleamed on his right wrist, and his polished leather shoes reflected the marble floor beneath. He was like a shadow that never left Elena’s side, calm, dominant, unshakable.
• They sat at the table closest to the enormous glass wall that offered a breathtaking view of the city like a living painting.
• The table was meticulously set, draped in rich navy velvet. Gold trimmed porcelain plates, slender candlelight flickering beside crystal wine glasses, and the scent of fresh lilies mixed with the aroma of truffle from the kitchen, all blended into a surreal harmony.
• Moments later, a waiter arrived with an exquisite spread of Italian cuisine: truffle risotto releasing a fragrant steam, veal parmigiana oozing with perfectly melted cheese, lobster linguine in fresh tomato and basil sauce, and a beautifully presented tiramisu in an elegant glass.
• Dominic looked at her with gentle intensity. “Do you like the food?” he asked, voice low but warm, his eyes searching hers as though he could see through her soul.
• Elena gave a soft nod and smiled. “I love it... everything looks delicious,” she replied, then tasted the risotto. Creamy and rich with the distinct sharpness of truffle—it melted on her tongue.
• Dominic smiled, though the smile seemed carefully controlled. “Next time, I’ll take you somewhere even better than this.”
• Elena set her fork down slowly and looked at him with a newfound boldness. “I want to go somewhere more crowded... Somewhere people can see us... and know we’re a couple. Maybe a party…”
• Dominic paused, his smile fading into something unreadable. His eyes dulled, as if her wish was a breeze he had no intention of catching.
• Elena looked down, swallowing her disappointment. Her gaze wandered again over the room, perfect but quiet, there is only the sound of classical music.
• Then a strange feeling crept over her. Something familiar... or was it?
• “This place feels... familiar,” she murmured to herself. “Like I’ve been here before... but I can’t remember when.”
• Dominic turned sharply. His fork froze mid-air. His jaw clenched, eyes suddenly sharp. He stared at her as though trying to extract a memory from her mind.
• 'Could this place trigger her memory?' he thought, unease prickling under his skin.
• But his face quickly returned to calm. He smiled again, though it looked like a mask. “Yes... This used to be our favorite place.”
• “Really?” Elena’s eyes lit up for a moment, surprised.
• “Yes, Darling. That’s why I brought you here tonight. But I had to book the entire place... so no one would know you were here. Because…” He turned toward the glass wall. “Our enemies already know this is our favorite spot.”
• Elena’s body stiffened. Her appetite vanished. But with the fear came something else: curiosity. What was their past?
• “You have to understand,” Dominic said, placing a hand gently over hers. “I keep you hidden for your own good. After the accident… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again.”
• “But… how long will we live like this?” Elena whispered. “I’m lonely. I have no one to talk to but you. And you’re always busy. I even tried talking to the bodyguards or the chef at the mansion, but… they’re like statues. Trained to serve, not to listen.”
• Dominic was silent. Then slowly, he pulled his hand away.
• “If you need someone to talk to,” he said flatly, his eyes turning cold, “I’ll consider it. Now, finish your meal.”
• Elena bowed her head and returned to her food. But it no longer tasted the same.
• She glanced occasionally at Dominic, who now didn’t touch his food again. He simply watched her, like a warden watching a prisoner. Yet they were husband and wife. Or… weren’t they?
• Several minutes passed in silence. Only the soft clinking of cutlery and faint classical music from hidden speakers filled the space. Elena stared at her plate, trying to swallow both the emptiness on her tongue and in her heart.
• She put down her fork and slowly turned to Dominic. “May I go to the restroom?” she asked quietly.
• Dominic nodded once without looking. “Don’t take long.”
• Elena rose, her heels clicking lightly against the cold marble floor as she walked carefully down the narrow corridor. The hallway was adorned with classical paintings and golden lighting, too lavish for a mere bathroom path.
• Inside the restroom, she found herself alone. It was no less elegant than the rest of the place, delicate floral wallpaper, a tall mirror framed in gold, glossy porcelain sinks, and a soft rose scent lingering in the air.
• She splashed her face with water, staring into her own reflection. Her champagne dress still looked flawless, her makeup untouched.
• As she reached for a tissue, the restroom door opened slowly. A young woman in a waiter’s uniform entered, wearing a neat black apron and carrying a tray of damp towels and miniature perfume bottles.
• But what made Elena turn alert wasn’t the tray, it was the woman’s expression. Emotional. Almost trembling.
• “I’m sorry, Miss Elena,” the server said softly, voice shaking. “Why haven’t you gone home?”
• Elena frowned. “What are you talking about?”
• The waiter looked confused. "Your parents have been searching for you everywhere. They’re certainly you’re still alive."
• Elena’s blood turned to ice. “What ... Parents?”
• “Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Palvin,” the girl repeated gently. “They came to this restaurant two months ago, showing your photo, asking if we’d seen you.”
• That name.
• Palvin.
• Something shuddered in her chest. She looked at herself again in the mirror, hoping the reflection would give her an answer. But it didn’t. Just the face of a woman staring back, as if she were seeing her own ghost.
• “I... I don’t know them,” she whispered. “Dominic said I had no one. That I belonged to him... because we married after I lost my memory.”
• The server looked crushed. “No, you do have someone. Your parents—Benjamin and Rosalina Palvin. You’re Elena Palvin, their only daughter. You are famous in Vegas, and were never married. You disappeared after a car crash with your brother, Eduardo Palvin.”
• “What?” Elena shook her head, dazed. “I… I don’t understand… This doesn’t make sense…”
• The girl reached into her apron and pulled something out, a photo. She handed it over with trembling hands.
• “We kept this... from one of the flyers they posted. It’s you, Miss Elena. Before you disappeared.”
• Elena stared at the picture, a smiling young woman with the same eyes as hers. Her hair was longer, wavy and carefree, dressed in a cozy sweater. That smile… so alive.
• And she… she was just a shadow of that photo. A version reformed and reshaped by someone else.
• “I…” Elena clutched the photo to her chest. “Why don’t I remember anyone?”
• Footsteps echoed outside. The waiter instantly stepped back.
• “I have to go,” she whispered quickly. “Please… don’t tell anyone that we spoke.”
• The door swung open.
• A male server stood there, smiling politely. “Excuse me, Miss. Mr. Marino has requested your return.”
• The female water had vanished. Only the photo in Elena’s shaking hand remained along with the fear and confusion that now rooted itself deeper than ever before.