CHAPTER 2

Michael's POV

I woke up with a pounding headache, my eyes feeling heavy and unresponsive. I was awake but my eyes were taking long to open. It took me a few moments to pry them open, and when I did, I was met with different pairs of eyes staring back at me. "He's awake," "He's awake," the boss is awake," someone said, their voice muffled.

As my vision cleared, I saw that I was lying on a soft, warm surface, not the cold, hard tiles I remembered sleeping on. What was going on? I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, forcing me to lie back down.

"Babe, you're awake." I recognized that voice, and it filled me with a sense of unease. That voice belonged to that witch, Monica. What's she doing here? She was even crying, but I wasn't buying it. I turned my face away as she tried to kiss me, her lips brushing against my cheeks

The doctor's voice intervened, calm and authoritative. "He's really stressed. Y'all should give him space for a while." The room began to clear out, but Monica lingered, her eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

I waited for everyone to leave, but she seemed reluctant to move. I had to fake a serious headache for her to finally leave my side. "Monica, I think I need some rest," I said, trying to keep my tone weak and pitiful. The doctor caught on and chimed in, "Yes, Miss Monica, perhaps you should give him some space. He needs to rest and recover.

Monica's face twisted in a mixture of concern and calculation, but she eventually stood up and walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, I turned to the doctor. "Doctor, what's going on?" I asked, my voice firm and demanding.

The doctor's expression was neutral, but I sensed a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "You've been under a lot of stress, Mr. Michael. We'll need to run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting spell."

I narrowed my eyes, my mind racing with questions and suspicions. What was going on? Why was Monica being so clingy and fake? And what did the doctor know that he wasn't telling me?

"Tests?" I repeated, my voice skeptical. "What kind of tests?"

The doctor hesitated, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on me. "Just routine tests, Mr. Michael. We'll check your vitals, run some blood work, and maybe do an MRI to rule out any underlying conditions."

I wasn't convinced, but I knew I had to tread carefully. For now, I would play along and gather my strength. I would get to the bottom of this, no matter what it took.

The doctor's voice was soothing, but I detected a hint of caution behind his words. "Don't worry, Mr. Michael. We'll get to the bottom of this. Just rest for now, and we'll talk more later."

I nodded, pretending to comply, but my mind was already racing ahead, plotting and scheming. I would uncover the truth, and I would take back control.

I took my phone to check the time, but my eyes widened as I saw the date. What the helly! 2019! I felt a wave of confusion wash over me. How was this possible? I could've sworn it was a different year. I looked up at the doctor, my mind racing with questions. "Doctor, what year is this?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

The doctor's expression was amused, but I detected a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "2019, Mr. Michael," he said, his voice calm.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something wasn't right. I knew I had to tread carefully, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. "And what month is it?" I asked, my voice firm.

The doctor's smile faltered for a moment before he replied, "It's March, Mr. Michael."

I nodded, pretending to process the information, but my mind was already racing ahead. What had happened to me? How did I end up here? And what was Monica's role in all of this.

The doctor's voice broke into my thoughts, his tone soothing. "Just rest for now, Mr. Michael. We'll talk more later."

I nodded, pretending to comply, but my mind was already plotting and scheming. I would uncover the truth, and I would take back control.

As the doctor left the room, I was left with more questions than answers. What was going on? Why was Monica being so clingy and fake? And what did the doctor know that he wasn't telling me?

I decided to investigate further. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet firmly on the ground. The room spun for a moment, but I gritted my teeth and waited for the dizziness to pass.

Once I felt steady, I stood up and began to make my way out of the room. I needed to get out of there and start digging for answers. As I walked out, I saw Monica waiting for me in the hallway. She had a concerned expression on her face, but I could see the calculation behind her eyes.

"Michael, you shouldn't be out of bed," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to rest."

I smiled coldly to myself. She thought she could play me like a fool. But I knew better. I had seen the look in her eyes before, the look of a woman who was hiding something.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice firm. "I just need to get some fresh air."

Monica's expression faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "I'll get the doctor," she said. "He can talk to you about your condition." I nodded, playing along. But as soon as she left to get the doctor, I began to plot my next move. I would uncover the truth, and I would take back control.

I walked slowly down the hallway, trying to take in everything around me. I noticed the expensive artwork on the walls, the lavish furniture, and the large windows that let in plenty of natural light. This was definitely not a hospital.

As I turned a corner, I saw a door that looked like it led outside. I quickened my pace, my heart racing with excitement. I pushed open the door and stepped out into the fresh air. The sunlight was blinding, but I welcomed it. I took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze fill my lungs.

As I stood outside, I felt a sense of unease. Something wasn't right. The entire place seemed really familiar. I looked around, trying to take in every detail. And then it hit me. This was my company. I was the CEO of Thompson Inc. I remembered the office, the employees, the sense of pride and accomplishment that came with building a successful business.

But something was off. The memories felt different. Like they weren't entirely mine. I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. What was going on?

I thought back to the doctor's words, to Monica's concerned expression. What had happened to me? Why was I here, in this state?

As I stood there, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory, I felt a sense of determination rising up inside me. I would get to the bottom of this. I would uncover the truth, no matter what it took.

I took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze fill my lungs. I was Michael Thompson, CEO of Thompson Inc. And I would not be silenced.

With newfound resolve, I turned and walked back into the building. I would start asking questions, demanding answers. And I would not rest until I had uncovered the truth.

The game was on, and I was ready to play.

I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. But I knew I couldn't linger for long. Monica would be back with the doctor soon, and I needed to be prepared.

I turned and walked back inside, making my way to the room where I had been resting. I sat down on the couch, trying to look calm and composed. I would wait for the doctor, and I would play along for now. But I was determined to get to the bottom of this, to uncover the truth and take back control.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but think about the date on my phone. 2019. What had happened to me? How did I end up here?

I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the present moment. I would deal with the past later. For now, I needed to stay focused and gather my strength.

The door opened, and Monica walked in with the doctor. "Ah, Mr. Michael," the doctor said, "I see you're feeling better. Let's talk about your condition".

"Your sugar level is normal," the doctor said, scribbling some notes on his clipboard. "I'll check your blood pressure and vitals now."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Normal sugar levels were a good sign, but what about the rest of my health?

The doctor wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my arm and pumped it up. After a few moments, he nodded. "Your blood pressure is a bit high, but the rest of your vitals are normal."

I frowned, concerned. "What does that mean?" I asked.

The doctor's expression was neutral. "It could be a sign of stress or anxiety. We'll need to monitor it closely."

Monica, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly spoke up. "What can we do to help him, Doctor?"

The doctor turned to her. "I recommend that Mr. Michael avoid stressful situations and activities that can exacerbate his condition. We'll also need to run some tests to determine the underlying cause of his high blood pressure."

I listened to the doctor's words, feeling a sense of unease. What did he mean by "stressful situations"? And what kind of tests would I need to undergo? "Mr Michael are you ready for the MRI?" "Yes doctor". "Monica you can stay back". I didn't want her following me around. "I want to come with you", she said. "No don't worry. I don't want to stress you", I said while faking