The cold wind of the warehouse still seemed to carry the scent of John's fury. Phyllis stood rooted, the iris handkerchief in her hand crumpled. His whispered "Yaya" had been like a faint but clear electric current, instantly piercing through her five years of waiting and pretense. She was certain that, in that moment, John had remembered something – her. But his fleeting coldness, in turn, was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the hope that had just ignited in her heart. How much had he truly remembered? Why did he immediately suppress that vulnerability and pain? Phyllis's heart was a whirlwind of emotions – anger, heartache, confusion – all intertwined, making it almost impossible to breathe. She looked down at the handkerchief in her hand; the lingering warmth and faint scent of blood seemed to remind her that everything last night was not an illusion, and John's pain was real. She knew he hadn't forgotten; he was merely suppressed by some powerful force, and that suppression caused him immense suffering.
The next day, John did not appear at the company. A palpable tension hung over the entire Yarfi Group. Security personnel had visibly increased, everyone's face was grim, and the company's network seemed to be undergoing a large-scale scan and upgrade. Kevin picked Phyllis up for work as usual, but his expression was even more serious than usual, with a hint of imperceptible fatigue in his eyes. Phyllis knew that last night's incident was by no means trivial for John. He must be secretly dealing with something, perhaps not having slept all night. John's office door remained tightly shut. Phyllis passed by several times, hearing low conversations inside, occasionally interspersed with John's suppressed roars of anger. She knew he was swiftly and decisively handling last night's attack and the threat represented by the "Shadow" organization's badge.
Kevin's surveillance of Phyllis tightened even further, practically shadowing her every move. Even when she went to the pantry for water, she would find bodyguards always standing nearby, their gazes vigilantly sweeping the surroundings. Her schedule was meticulously packed by Kevin; besides attending meetings with John, she was sent to various departments within the group to "familiarize herself with operations," ostensibly to "gain a deeper understanding of group functions," but in reality, it was to keep her firmly confined within the Yarfi Building. Phyllis understood that John was using his own methods to firmly "trap" her by his side, giving no opportunity for danger to approach. This feeling of being excessively protected left her feeling both conflicted and complex. She yearned for freedom, yet she couldn't deny the sense of security this protection brought.
However, John's "protection" was not without its loopholes. Phyllis discovered that while he outwardly remained cold and distant towards her, even more so than before, privately, those "coincidental" acts of care became more frequent and detailed. On her desk, in addition to her favorite coffee, a steaming hot breakfast or a dessert she had casually mentioned would materialize. Even if she occasionally complained about too many documents, the next day her desk would have a stack of neatly organized files, complete with John's annotations. When she worked late into the night, John's private chef would "conveniently" deliver a nutritionally balanced dinner, saying it was "Mr. Zhuo's order, to ensure employee health." These seemingly unintentional small details warmed Phyllis's heart, yet also left her feeling a little bittersweet. He clearly cared about her, yet pretended not to know her. This awkward concern unsettled her more than any sweet words. She didn't understand: had he truly forgotten, or was he deliberately hiding something? If he remembered, why couldn't he just tell her? The uncertainty gnawed at her, a slow, insidious torture far worse than any physical threat.
Phyllis didn't give up her investigation. Confined within her luxurious prison, she had to devise new methods. She began to utilize the Yarfi Group's internal employee network, casually joining interest groups of older employees, such as the "Yarfi History Enthusiasts Association" or "Old Photo Sharing Group." She knew that older employees were often looser-lipped and enjoyed reminiscing, especially about old, dusty matters. She would post blurry old photos in the groups, pretending to be curious about the people and events in them, or ask about the group's early development, even deliberately mentioning dates related to the accident five years ago to observe their reactions. Sure enough, some older employees would enthusiastically share stories from the past, including fragmented memories about the accident five years ago, such as unusual actions by senior management at the time, or some of John's habits when he was younger, like his preference for thinking alone in a certain abandoned old warehouse. Though fragmented, these pieces of information were like a jigsaw puzzle for Phyllis, gradually forming the outline of the truth.
Despite the suffocating surveillance, Phyllis refused to yield. The family's internal struggles, fueled by the recent cyberattacks and the resort project's woes, intensified, further solidifying John's ruthless reputation and Phyllis's understanding of his methods.
This gilded cage, though seemingly luxurious, was in fact full of hidden dangers. Phyllis knew she was at the center of a whirlpool, and John, this man who was both familiar and a stranger, was its source. She knew this path would be perilous, but she had no choice. For the vow made five years ago, for the love deeply buried in her heart, she had to fight with all her might, to the very end!
One weekend afternoon, Phyllis utilized the "secret passage" provided by Lynn, quietly slipping into an abandoned old warehouse of the Yarfi Group. Located deep beneath the Yarfi Building, it was filled with discarded early equipment and files, the air thick with dust and the smell of rust, a blind spot in the security system. Wearing gloves, she carefully sifted through dusty boxes and files, hoping to find more clues about the "Shadow" organization. Time ticked by, her patience almost exhausted. Suddenly, her fingers brushed against something cold and hard. She pulled it out: an old metal badge, engraved with a faint "Shadow" character and a small line of numerical code below it. This badge was identical to the watermark pattern on the anonymous warning letter she had received! Phyllis's heart pounded. The 'Shadow' organization truly existed! And they had intricate ties to the Yarfi family! This discovery left her both excited and terrified; she knew she had touched upon a core secret.
Just as she was about to put the badge away, a low, familiar voice, tinged with an almost imperceptible chill, came from behind her: "What are you looking for?"
Phyllis spun around, to see John standing not far away, backlit, his face terrifyingly grim. In his hand, he held the iris handkerchief she had slipped into his pocket, his fingertips gently caressing the embroidery on the fabric, a gesture as tender as if he were stroking a precious treasure. His eyes were complex and deep, like two bottomless lakes, swirling with emotions she couldn't decipher – anger, confusion, and even a faint, almost imperceptible pain. How was he here?! Phyllis's heart instantly leaped to her throat. She knew she had truly been caught red-handed this time! All her secrets, all her investigations, were, at this moment, exposed before him. She could feel the tension in the air, as if it were about to explode.
John's pupils constricted sharply. When his gaze landed on the faint "Shadow" character on the badge, his body visibly stiffened. The iris handkerchief in his hand dropped to the ground with a soft, piercing echo in the silent warehouse. His face instantly turned deathly pale, veins throbbing on his forehead as his body began to tremble violently, as if struck by an invisible force. He clutched his head, a guttural groan escaping him, his voice raw with agony and struggle.
"My head hurts so much... No... don't..." John bent over in pain, dropping to one knee, his hands gripping his hair tightly, nails almost digging into his scalp. His breathing became rapid and heavy, cold sweat streaming down his forehead, his body shaking uncontrollably. Seeing him like this, Phyllis's heart twisted in pain. She knew she had touched the most vulnerable part of his deep memory; those suppressed pains were tearing him apart, bit by bit.
"John!" Phyllis disregarded everything else and immediately rushed forward, trying to support him. She saw the old scar on his wrist become even clearer in his trembling, that scar she had left when bandaging him five years ago.
John didn't reject her approach; instead, he instinctively grabbed her hand, with a force that almost crushed her bones. His eyes were confused and pained, yet held an indescribable longing, as if grasping a lifeline in the darkness. He stared intently at Phyllis, unconsciously mumbling fragmented words: "Fire... explosion... you... don't go..."
Those fragmented words, each one like a hammer, struck hard at Phyllis's heart. She knew he was experiencing the agony of memory recall; those suppressed images were relentlessly assaulting his mind. She held his hand tightly, trying to give him strength, trying to make him feel her presence.
Just then, Kevin's voice came from outside the warehouse, tinged with anxiety: "Mr. Zhuo? Are you in there?"
John's body stiffened abruptly. His confused and pained eyes, under extreme self-control, instantly regained their coldness and clarity, as if his earlier loss of composure had never happened. He released Phyllis's hand, abruptly standing up, his face deathly pale, but his eyes had reverted to their previous coldness and authority. He glanced at the badge on the ground, then at Phyllis, his gaze so complex that Phyllis couldn't decipher it.
"Kevin, come in!" John's voice was still deep, but carried an undeniable command.
Kevin rushed in quickly, seeing the disarray in the warehouse, John's pale face, and the badge in Phyllis's hand. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly concealed it perfectly.
"Take this and keep it safe." John pointed to the badge on the ground, his voice as cold as ice. "Furthermore, effective immediately, Phyllis's security level is to be elevated to the highest. Ensure her absolute safety at all costs. Anyone who dares to approach her one more step, kill without mercy!" His last words were almost hissed through clenched teeth, carrying an intense murderous intent that made even Kevin shiver.
Kevin immediately stepped forward, picked up the badge from the ground, and respectfully replied, "Yes, Mr. Zhuo." He glanced at Phyllis, his eyes complex, seemingly warning her, yet also pitying her.
John didn't look at Phyllis again. He turned and strode out of the warehouse. His back remained straight, but Phyllis could feel the exhaustion and pain radiating from him.
Phyllis stood rooted, watching John's retreating figure, her heart a mix of emotions, like an overturned palette. His reaction just now, that whispered "Yaya," those fragmented murmurs, all confirmed to her that John's memories were awakening. He hadn't completely forgotten her; he was just suppressed by something. This ignited a spark of hope in her, but his fleeting coldness was like a bucket of ice water, dousing her completely. That badge was clearly the key to awakening his memories, but it might also be the fuse that ignited deeper pain.
John had already begun secretly planning to uproot the "Shadow" organization. And Phyllis, after experiencing this brush with death, felt even more complex emotions towards John. She was touched by his timely appearance and his desperate protection, yet she also ached for his confined memories and his occasional erratic behavior. She realized that their relationship was no longer simple control versus resistance, but a deeper bond and an entanglement of fate.
She looked down, seeing the iris handkerchief on the ground, and bent to pick it up. The handkerchief still held John's body heat, and a faint scent of blood. She gripped the handkerchief tightly, her eyes resolute. This battle had just begun, and she knew it would be a tough one! A tough battle of love, memory, and life and death! She had to fight with all her might, help him retrieve all his memories, expose the true face of the "Shadow" organization, and only then could she decide whether what lay between them was love or hatred.