Chapter 3

Three Years Ago

The fluorescent lights above flickered with a soft hum, casting a pale glow over the hospital corridor. The air was cold—too cold—and it reeked of antiseptic. A nurse emerged quietly from the maternity wing, her arms cradling a tightly bundled infant. Her eyes were uncertain, her steps hesitant as if every footfall added to the weight she carried.

“Is it done?” Vivian Carter’s voice was low, her arms folded neatly over her designer coat.

The nurse didn’t answer immediately. She looked over her shoulder, back toward the room she’d just left. Her expression faltered. “Yes… but are you absolutely sure about this? The baby—”

“She’ll never know.” Vivian’s tone sharpened. “That child is the product of disgrace. A stain on this family.”

“She wanted to keep him,” the nurse whispered.

Vivian scoffed, her painted lips curling in disdain. “Danielle doesn’t get to want anything. She made her choice when she disobeyed me. Now she’ll face the consequences.”

With a final glance, Vivian took the baby and turned her back on the hospital wing. The nurse stood frozen, guilt heavy in her chest.

Inside the room, Danielle stirred.

Her body, frail and weak from labor, twitched slightly. A nurse adjusted the IV drip, unaware of the way her fingers clenched the blanket.

Her lips parted, forming the ghost of a name.

But no one was listening.

---

Present Day

The Sterling Grand Hotel gleamed under the late morning sun, its glass façade reflecting the bustling city around it. Inside, marble floors sparkled beneath polished heels, and golden chandeliers cast soft light across a sea of corporate suits and elegant dresses.

Danielle Carter stepped out of the elevator with quiet grace, the hem of her navy-blue dress fluttering behind her. Her hair was pinned up in soft curls, and delicate gold earrings shimmered each time she moved. There was a quiet strength in the way she carried herself—shoulders squared, chin held high—but her eyes held a different story. A hint of melancholy. A shadow of something lost.

“This place is packed,” Aria said, adjusting her badge as she pulled up the registration list on her phone. “I’ll go check us in. Don’t disappear.”

Danielle gave a half-smile. “No promises.”

As Aria disappeared into the crowd, Danielle found herself drifting—pulled by something intangible. She wandered past towering indoor plants, a grand piano playing faintly in the corner, and guests chatting over champagne flutes. The air was scented with expensive cologne and fresh lilies.

Then, a sudden force slammed into her legs.

“Oof!”

She stumbled slightly and looked down.

A small boy with messy dark hair and wide, panicked gray eyes blinked up at her.

Danielle immediately crouched, hands gentle on his shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

The boy swallowed and nodded, but his lip quivered. “I—I lost my dad…”

Danielle's heart lurched. She didn’t know why. Something about this boy tugged at a thread she didn’t realize was still so raw. Maybe it was his voice. Or the way his hand trembled when she took it in hers. Or those eyes—familiar in a way that made her chest ache.

She offered him a soft smile. “You’re safe now. Let’s find him, okay?”

He nodded again, gripping her hand like it was a lifeline.

As they walked through the lobby, weaving through the crowd, she asked gently, “What’s your name?”

“Theo.”

Theo. The name danced in her ears like a whisper. She didn’t know why it felt significant. She hadn’t met many children named Theo before. But it didn’t matter—it suited him.

“Do you remember what your dad looks like?”

Theo tilted his head. “He’s tall. Wears suits. And he has eyes like mine.”

Danielle chuckled softly. “Well, that narrows it down.”

He smiled—a small, genuine thing—and for a moment, her heart felt warm in a way it hadn’t in years.

Then a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Theo!”

Danielle turned instinctively.

And froze.

A tall man strode toward them, his sharp gray eyes locked onto the boy. His presence was commanding—like the kind of person who never had to raise his voice to be heard. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, crisp and tailored, and there was something dangerously familiar about the way he moved. Confident. Precise. Cold.

Theo immediately let go of her hand and ran to him. “Daddy!”

The man knelt to scoop the boy up, checking him quickly for any signs of harm.

Danielle stood motionless. Watching. Processing.

The resemblance. The eyes.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

She blinked, struggling to match the polished CEO standing before her with the hazy image that had haunted her dreams for three years. Her memory of that night was fragmented—distorted by the drugs and fear. But she remembered pieces. The shape of a jaw. A faint scar near the collarbone. Eyes that had looked at her with something unspoken.

Now, those same eyes were staring back at her—but colder. Sharper. Guarded.

“Thank you,” the man said, his tone clipped but courteous.

“I—I found him near the elevators,” she replied, forcing her voice to stay even.

There was a pause.

Long enough for something to pass between them. A flicker of recognition? Suspicion?

But then he looked away. “Theo, you shouldn’t wander off.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Theo mumbled.

“I know.” Alexander Sterling’s voice softened slightly as he adjusted the boy on his hip.

Danielle took a step back, unsure of what to say. Her heart was racing in her chest, and not just because of him.

Theo.

Why did that name linger?

“I’ll get going,” she said, her voice low.

As she turned, Theo tugged his father’s sleeve. “Will I see her again?”

Danielle stopped mid-step.

Her throat tightened.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between his son and the woman who had appeared so suddenly in his life again.

He didn't answer.

Danielle didn’t look back as she walked away.

---

Elsewhere

From a quiet corner of the hotel café, Damian West watched the interaction unfold.

He sipped his espresso slowly, eyes narrowed as he studied his best friend’s expression.

When Alexander returned to the table with Theo, the man was silent for a long moment.

“She looks familiar,” Damian said casually, stirring his coffee.

Alexander didn’t reply at first. He stared at the child in his lap, then out the window as if searching for answers in the skyline.

“Her name’s Danielle Carter.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Alexander’s jaw tensed. “I wasn’t… until I looked into her eyes.”

“Well, that complicates things.” Damian leaned back. “She looked surprised to see Theo.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Does she even remember that night?”

“I doubt it.”

Damian was quiet for a beat, then smirked slightly. “This is going to be fun.”

Alexander shot him a look.

“Not fun,” he corrected. “Complicated. But interesting.”

Alexander didn’t reply. His fingers brushed gently over Theo’s back as he held him close.

Inside his chest, something stirred—something unfamiliar. He wasn’t a man easily shaken, but Danielle’s presence had ignited a storm he hadn’t prepared for.

He had questions. Doubts. Fears.

But one thing was certain:

He wouldn’t let her close.

Not without knowing the truth.

Not without protecting Theo.