Help! I need the name of this novel . FL Jenna Wayne ML Liam Rockwell OW Sophia Willow

For three years, she nursed her amnesiac husband. Then she discovered he was the heir to the colossal Rockwell fortune. 

The first thing he did after regaining his memory was spend a fortune building her dream castle, then locked his beloved wife away inside it. 

For the first month, no matter how busy he was, he came home every single day. He cooked for her, showered her with gifts, and made love to her again and again, as if trying to merge their bodies into one. 

Gradually, he stopped having time to cook. The long nights lost in passion became a memory. 

Then, his visits dwindled. Sometimes, two weeks would pass without a single glimpse of him. 

She lived in the fairytale world he’d created for her, soothing herself with sweet memories. He was the CEO of Rockwell Group, she’d tell 

herself. He’s just buried in work. 

That dream shattered the day a woman claiming to be his fiancée stormed into her castle. 

“I’m Sophia Willow, Mr. Rockwell’s fiancée. And the CTO he headhunted.” Dressed in a sharp power suit, Sophia radiated an aura of confident pride. Her gaze raked over Jenna Wayne with undisguised contempt. 

Sophia’s words were like daggers to Jenna’s heart. Her nails dug into her palms. “You’re lying! He doesn’t have a fiancée. We’re married.” 

“Only you would take that cheap little marriage seriously,” the woman sneered. “How long has it been since he came home? Don’t tell me you 

actually buy that ‘too busy’ excuse.” 

Sophia smirked, unlocking her phone and swiping through a gallery of photos all of her and Liam Rockwell. 

Attending galas together. Dancing. Traveling… In every shot, they were close, Liam’s smile painfully bright. 

“He’s royalty, way out of your league, you little street vendor. Name your price. How much to disappear from Mr. Rockwell’s life?” 

“I’ll wait for my husband. I don’t believe a word you’re saying,” Jenna retorted, biting her lip, though her voice had lost its earlier conviction. 

“Then let’s make a bet,” Sophia challenged. “I’ll give you three chances. If Liam chooses you over me just once, I lose. I’ll disappear. But if you 

lose… you disappear.” 

Jenna hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Her Liam had once sworn she would always be his first choice. 

The next moment, the familiar roar of an engine echoed from the courtyard. 

Liam was home. 

Sophia glanced at the door, a sinister smile playing on her lips as she looked at Jenna. “The bet is on. Let’s find out just how much he loves you.” 

Before Jenna could react, Sophia dropped to her knees and began slapping her own face, hard. She looked up at Jenna, feigning defiance. “There’s nothing between us! I was just pretending to be his fiancée to fool his family! I didn’t know he had a wife…” 

“What the hell is going on?” Liam’s face darkened instantly as he took in the scene, his eyes darting between Jenna and the other woman. 

“Mr. Rockwell, I’m so sorry,” Sophia whimpered, her hand never ceasing its motion, her eyes welling up as she looked at Liam. “I didn’t know 

Mrs. Rockwell would find out about me. I was just trying to explain… about us…” 

Liam grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet and pulling her protectively into his arms. He turned to Jenna, his eyes cold, his gaze holding an expression she couldn’t decipher. 

“Baby… you investigated me?” He released Sophia and slowly advanced on Jenna. 

Jenna instinctively took a step back. Instead of answering, her eyes filled with hurt, she asked, “She says she’s your fiancée. Is it true?” 

Liam’s expression was unreadable. He reached out and smoothed her hair, his gaze as gentle as it had always been. “Didn’t I tell you not to ask about my affairs? You used to be so well behaved. Why the sudden tantrum?” 

His fingers snagged on a knot in her hair. He frowned slightly, then yanked sharply, ripping the tangled clump clean from her scalp. 

“Ow!” Jenna cried out in pain. Liam pulled her into his arms, murmuring comforting words. 

“Sometimes you have to be cruel to fix a snarl. Then it doesn’t hurt later,” he said, his voice laced with a subtle warning. 

The chill in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. She tried to look up at him, but he held her head firmly against his chest. 

“I don’t like it when you act out.” 

Jenna choked back a sob, feeling as if a hand had closed around her heart, the pain radiating to her fingertips and toes. 

She struggled faintly, trying to break free from his hold. 

Just then, their little dog, Fluffy, scampered out from another room. 

Sensing Jenna’s distress, Fluffy latched onto Liam’s pant, tugging him away. 

The next instant, Liam snatched Fluffy up. The little dog yelped uncomfortably in his grip. 

“Liam, you’re hurting Fluffy!” Jenna reached for the dog. 

But Liam didn’t hand him over. He pinched Fluffy’s ears, watching the dog struggle with a displeased frown. “Fluffy’s getting disobedient too. Needs some discipline. Bring in the Mastiff.” 

“What are you doing?!” Jenna gasped in horror. “Liam, stop! That’s Fluffy! He’s our baby, we’ve had him since he was a puppy!” 

Liam ignored her, handing Fluffy over to a bodyguard. 

The bodyguard quickly returned with a massive black Tibetan Mastiff. He placed Fluffy in front of it. 

A single, agonized yelp pierced the air as the Mastiff clamped its jaws around Fluffy. The little dog’s white fur bloomed crimson. 

“NO! FLUFFY!” Jenna screamed, tears flooding her eyes. She lunged for the door, but Liam caught her arm, pulling her back against him. 

“Let me go! I have to save him! Liam, how could you do this?!” 

“Still not behaving?” Liam’s voice, deceptively gentle, cracked like thunder in her ear. Her body jerked violently as pure terror flooded her veins. She froze, ceasing her struggle. 

Staring in shock and grief, the man before her was a terrifying stranger. 

Four years ago… she found him on a rainy night, battered and broken. All he remembered was his name. 

Jenna was barely scraping by, but she couldn’t leave him there. She took him in. 

They lived in a rundown, leaky shack. They worked our fingers to the bone, shivering through countless cold, hungry nights. In that poverty,