The Bigshot's Superstar Wife

Athena's fingers twitched as the weight of Xavier's words settled over her. They erased you. Burned every trace of you. They made sure you were nothing but a ghost. She had no memories of that time, but the idea that her entire existence had been wiped clean, that she had been deliberately erased, sent a shiver down her spine. Someone had wanted her gone. But why? And more importantly, why had she been spared? If she had truly been meant to die, then someone had ensured her survival. Someone had told her to run.

Xavier watched her with something unreadable in his gaze. He leaned back, arms crossed, giving her the space to process, but his body remained tense, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. He had spent years searching for her, hunting her down, only to find that she didn't even remember who she had been. And yet, despite everything, he hadn't killed her. Not yet.

Athena took a slow breath, forcing her body to stay relaxed even as her thoughts raced. "Who would've helped me?" she asked finally. "If I was an assassin sent to kill you, why would anyone try to save me?"

Xavier tilted his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "That's the question, isn't it?" His voice was smooth, but there was something sharp beneath the surface. "I have my theories. Maybe you had a lover in the guild. Someone who couldn't bear to see you die."

Athena frowned, but before she could refute the idea, another sharp pain lanced through her skull. More fragmented memories surfaced—whispers in the dark, hurried touches, hands gripping hers tightly before pulling away. A promise made in desperation. But whose voice was it?

She pressed a hand to her temple, frustration bubbling inside her. "I don't remember," she muttered. "It's like trying to hold onto smoke."

Xavier chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. "Memory loss is a funny thing," he mused. "You've forgotten everything, but your body still remembers, doesn't it? The way you fight, the way you react—it's all still there, buried under the surface." His gaze sharpened. "And yet, some things refuse to come back. Convenient, don't you think?"

Athena narrowed her eyes. "You think I'm faking this?"

"I think," he said slowly, "that someone didn't just erase your past from records. They erased it from you."

The thought sent a cold chill through her. Could memories be tampered with? The idea wasn't impossible, especially not in a world where biological warfare and human experimentation had already twisted the natural order of life. If she had been part of something bigger—if she had been a weapon—then it was entirely possible that whoever had created her had also ensured she wouldn't remember the truth.

But why?

Xavier leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. "Athena, what if I told you that you weren't just any assassin? What if I told you that you were the best?"

She swallowed hard, unsure whether to feel pride or dread at those words. "The best," she echoed.

His lips curled into a knowing smile. "The best killer. The one with the highest success rate. No one ever saw you coming, and no one ever lived long enough to remember you. You were a ghost long before they erased you."

Her stomach twisted. "If that's true," she said carefully, "then why did I fail my mission?"

Xavier's smile didn't waver. "Now, that's what I want to know."

Athena clenched her fists, frustration mounting. Every answer he gave only led to more questions, more dead ends. She needed to remember. She needed to know why she had been sent after him, why she had disappeared, and who had saved her. Because if she didn't, she had a feeling it wouldn't be long before her past came crashing down on her whether she was ready or not.

The sound of distant gunfire interrupted her thoughts. Xavier's expression shifted instantly, the lazy amusement in his eyes vanishing as he stood.

"Looks like we have company," he murmured.

Athena pushed her questions aside, instincts kicking in as she reached for her weapon. Whatever was coming, she would deal with it the way she always had. One battle at a time.

Athena gripped her weapon tightly, her pulse steadying as she focused on the sounds outside. The gunfire wasn't random—there was a rhythm to it, a pattern that suggested an organized force rather than mindless chaos. Someone was approaching the base, and they weren't alone.

Xavier moved swiftly, his expression unreadable as he signaled her to follow. She didn't hesitate. They navigated the dimly lit corridors of the abandoned building, their footsteps nearly silent against the cold concrete floor. The air was thick with tension, each moment stretching as they neared the exit.

Athena peeked through a crack in the door. Outside, figures moved in the shadows, their outlines barely visible against the bleak horizon. They weren't survivors. Their movements were too precise, too calculated. Whoever they were, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Xavier let out a low chuckle. "Well, well. Looks like the past is catching up to us sooner than expected."

Athena frowned. "Do you recognize them?"

"Not yet," he admitted, "but I have a feeling we'll find out soon enough."

The sound of metal clanking against stone made Athena stiffen. A drone hovered above the ruins, its mechanical eye scanning the area. She barely had time to react before Xavier grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Stay out of sight," he warned. "They're not here to negotiate."

Athena's mind raced. If someone was after them, it meant they had been tracked. But by who? The military? The guild? Or someone even worse?

The gunfire grew closer, and in the distance, a voice called out a name.

"Athena."

She froze.

Whoever they were, they knew her. And that meant only one thing.

Her past had finally found her.

What should I do to remember everything? I don't even know what's real and what's not.