when sky forgot my name

Chapter 06 –

POV: Lyra

"Hahaha, you can't even stand properly!"

"She's coming—push her!"

"Oh no, she hit the pillar! RUN!"

Their laughter echoed in my head like broken glass.

I gasped awake, drenched in sweat. Just a nightmare. But the past has claws—it never forgets to visit me.

I pressed a hand to my chest. It was getting harder to breathe, as if a thousand invisible hands were pressing down on me.

"Stop it... just stop it!" I cried out to no one, gripping my sheets like they were a lifeline.

Then, the door creaked open.

And for a moment—I couldn't breathe at all.

Standing there, frozen in time, was someone I buried in my memories long ago.

My mother.

No… it couldn't be. I blinked, but the image didn't fade.

"Mom?" My voice cracked, soaked in disbelief. "Mom... why did you leave me? Why did you die? You knew I needed you—how could you just go like that?!"

But before my sobs could break through the silence, I jolted awake again—this time for real.

"Miss Lyra?" A hand shook me gently. It was my housekeeper Aira. But behind her stood Ella Vale—the woman I never wanted to see again.

My stepmother.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" My voice was steel. Cold. Angry.

I called out firmly, "Aira, get her out of here. If she doesn't leave—call security."

Ella looked at me with fake sympathy. "I just came to see you."

I narrowed my eyes. "And I've seen enough. Goodbye."

"Lyra... why do you hate me so much? Why can't you love me back?"

I didn't flinch. "Love you? Never. You destroyed everything. My mother died because of you. My family shattered because of you. You don't get to stand in this house and ask for love."

Aira returned, hesitant. Ella turned and walked out, but her eyes burned with bitterness.

Good. Let them burn.

I collapsed onto my bed, drained. Why can't the past stay buried? Why do its ghosts visit me every morning I try to rise?

I checked the time—4:00 p.m.

Damn. I was late for the press conference.

Still weak, I tried to get up but stumbled again. Yesterday's trauma still lingered in my veins. But I didn't have time to fall apart.

I made it to my dressing room—walls lined with mirrored wardrobes, clothes arranged like artwork. A crystal chandelier glimmered above me like a crown of light.

This... this is what success feels like. Everything at your fingertips. Everything earned.

I stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. When I returned, my new limited-edition blood-red Dior bodycon dress had arrived—single-shoulder, figure-hugging, flawless. I paired it with Dior heels and a limited-edition Dior saddlebag, specially designed for the Winter Gala line.

In the garage, my most precious beast awaited—the Royal Rose Lamborghini Aventador SVJ (Limited Gold Chrome Edition). Today, I would arrive like the empire I built: unapologetic, blinding, and unforgettable.

As I stepped out at the Marcliff Imperial Grand, the red carpet was on fire. Cameras flashed like lightning. I didn't smile. I walked like I owned the Earth—and maybe, tonight, I did.

But then came that voice behind me.

"Looking for something, Miss Lyra Vale?"

I didn't even need to turn. That arrogance could only belong to one man.

I turned slowly, a smirk blooming. "You again, Mr. Kieller Voss? Don't tell me you followed me here. Obsessed much?"

He stepped forward, smug as ever in his tailored midnight-blue suit. "Don't flatter yourself, Vale. I came to witness how mediocrity celebrates itself."

I narrowed my eyes. "And yet, here you are. In the presence of everything you failed to be."

He chuckled, sipping from a champagne glass. "We'll see who fails next quarter. Don't get too comfortable on that throne."

"I built it with blood. I'm not afraid to defend it with fire."

I walked off before he could reply.

Inside, the press conference was already buzzing. The lights dimmed. Cameras rolled.

"Miss Lyra Vale," a reporter called out, "with back-to-back wins and growing market dominance, what's your next step?"

I smiled coolly. "Step? I don't step—I leap. That's why others stay behind."

Applause echoed. But then came a question I didn't expect.

"Miss Vale… any comments about your family?"

I froze. My jaw clenched.

"I don't talk about graves," I replied sharply. "Only growth."

With that, I stepped down from the podium. The murmurs started immediately.

"She just walked off?"

"Who asks about her family anyway?"

"She's too arrogant…"

But I didn't care.

And just as I turned the corner—he was waiting again.

Kieller 

leaned casually against the marble column, arms folded, smirk loaded.

"Losing your temper now?" he teased, voice dipped in mock concern.

"Or is it the pressure of the spotlight finally cracking that diamond shell of yours?"

I didn't stop. I turned to him slowly—heels clicking like gunshots.

"Please, Kieller," I said coolly, "if pressure made diamonds, you'd still be coal."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Sharp tongue. Must be exhausting carrying that ego around in heels."

I tilted my head.

"Better an ego earned than a surname handed down. Remind me again—what exactly have you built without Daddy's wallet?"

He chuckled darkly, stepping closer.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

I didn't flinch.

"No. I know I'm unforgettable. That's why you can't stop following me."

He leaned in slightly, voice low and biting.

"Watch your back, Vale. Not every crown sits safe forever."

I stepped into his space, voice razor-sharp.

"Then sharpen your sword, Voss. I don't fight fair—

I fight to end."

We locked eyes. No smile. No blink.

Just a storm hanging between two empires.