The Forgotten Genius: Rising From Ruin

Author: Dionisio Wambold

Chapter 1 Amnesia

Word Count: 933 | Released on: 27/01/2026

ythmic, heavy hammer striking the inside of her skull,

chemical smell of antiseptic that burned the back of her throat. She tried to push herself up, but he

h rough, impatient movements. She didn't loo

voice was a dry croak, like

al clipboard at the foot of the bed with a sharp, dismissive clatt

e nurse said, tapping the paper. We need a

Address. Her mind was a terrifying, blank expanse of white, matching the walls. She r

ng against the rubber stopper on the wall. The bang made C

as bespoke, navy blue, and tailored to within an inch of its life. His hai

s expensive jacket. She wore a floral dress that looked soft, and her expression was one of

waited for a spark of rec

n at her not with worry, but with the kind of disgust

his ear. She glanced at Chanel, offering a sa

ice was deep, commanding, and utterly devoid of

onfusion was a physic

you? s

barking sound. He looked at the w

o this? You think pretending you don't know me will mak

the footboard of the bed unt

he engagement is over.

an emotion she couldn't place, but her logical mind processed the data in

d. Like a pathetic gold digger terrified o

rward, smoothing the

id softly. We just want

her blood? She searched the woman's face for any simil

usiness card. It was black, thick cardstock with g

lap. It landed face u

him, Beckham said. He handles

me was embossed in sharp,

a primal, instinctive spike of fear. She didn't kn

amar. He pulled her close, kissing the top

n in your family with a

It wasn't pity anymore. It was a smirk. A small, triumphant curli

o, Beck

didn't ask a doctor about her c

tching the entire scene from the doorway. Her expr

se snapped. We don't ru

tly, not from sadness, but from the shock of the adrenaline

t this piece of cardstock was the only lifeline

Chapter End

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The Forgotten Genius: Rising From Ruin

Dionisio Wambold Modern

“I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a throbbing head and a memory as blank as the white walls. Before I could even ask who I was, my fiancé, Beckham, stormed in with my sister, Isamar, and ended our engagement with a look of pure disgust. "Stop the act, Chanel," he sneered, accusing me of crashing my car just to hound him for money. "The accident won't save you this time. You're a pathetic gold digger, and you just lost your meal ticket." The nightmare only deepened from there. My own mother disowned me over the phone, freezing my bank accounts and calling me a disgrace for "faking a suicide" just to get Beckham's attention. When I returned to the family estate to reclaim my legal documents, my mother slapped me across the face, and my brother, Liam, tried to beat me, treating me like a common thief in my own home. Left with nothing but a black business card and a debt I couldn't pay, I fled into a rainy night on a stolen ATV. My adrenaline was crashing, and my hands shook on the handlebars as I rounded a sharp, wet curve. I lost control, skidding across the asphalt and smashing head-first into a luxury Maybach. The man who stepped out of the car was none other than Duke Montgomery-the most feared, powerful man in the city, a "disfigured recluse" the tabloids whispered about in hushed tones. I didn't understand why my own blood treated me like trash or why my sister was smirking while I bled in the mud. I was a stranger to my own past, discarded by everyone I was supposed to love, and now I owed a fifty-thousand-dollar repair bill to a man who looked like he could crush me with a single word. But as I looked into Duke's cold, aristocratic eyes, something inside me snapped. I didn't beg for mercy. I stood my ground and offered a high-stakes negotiation. "I will work it off," I told him, stepping into his car and choosing to walk straight into the lion's den to take back the life they stole from me.”