Ava's perspective The stillness in the room was louder than any cry. Two babies. One cradle. One memory. My hands trembled. "Say it again," I whispered. "You left me," the child repeated. His voice, ancient and resonant with agony, jarred something loose within me. I caught glimpses of terror. Blood on the hospital bed. Caleb's name was whispered once. Not Liam. Caleb. Damian Point of ViewThe air in the room felt dense, like if you were trying to breathe underwater. Ava stood frozen in place, her gaze fixed on the child that wasn't ours—or was supposed to be. The other baby, Liam, slept soundly in Rachel's arms on the threshold. What about the baby in the crib? He was awake. And he knew things. Things he shouldn't know. "You made a deal," the boy said softly, turning to face me. I froze. "What deal?" He tilted his head. "Forget her." "To forget me." Rachel Point of View The silence between Ava and Damian felt unsettling. "You need to take a step
Ava’s Point of ViewThe city looked the same, yet it felt different. Or maybe I was the one who had changed.As the car rolled to a stop in front of Phoenix Enterprises, I took a slow breath, steadying my pulse. The tinted windows shielded me from the outside world for now, but I knew what waited beyond them—curious eyes, murmured whispers, and cameras poised, ready to capture my return.I lifted my chin. I had prepared for this. Five years away, and I was no longer the woman who had once let this city chew her up and spit her out.I stepped out, the sharp click of my heels against the pavement cutting through the morning air. The weight of dozens of stares pressed against me, but I ignored them, adjusting the cuff of my blazer as if I didn’t notice.People whispered as I walked past.“Is that Ava Reynolds?”“She’s back?”“After five years?”I didn’t stop. I didn’t acknowledge them. I moved forward, head high, my posture poised.Inside, the familiar scent of polished wood and fresh es
Damian’s Point of ViewI didn’t believe in fate. I believed in logic, control, and carefully calculated decisions. But the second I stepped into that gala, something inside me shifted—like an unseen force had changed the air around me. It was a familiar venue, filled with familiar people, yet suddenly, I felt… off-balance.I ignored it, brushing imaginary dust off my cuff as I walked inside, flashing the occasional nod or polite smirk. This was routine. These events meant nothing. A place where egos clashed, power was measured by the price of a suit, and fake smiles stretched under crystal chandeliers.And yet, in that sea of wealth and vanity, my eyes landed on her.She was standing near the grand piano, a half-empty champagne flute in her hand, her posture tense—too tense. She was stunning, but it wasn’t her beauty that caught me. It was something else. It was either a pull or a warning, but it was like my body knew something my mind didn’t.Her deep green eyes locked onto mine, and
Ava’s Point of ViewThe city was still asleep when I woke up, but my mind had been restless all night. The events of the gala played on repeat in my head—the way Damian’s cold, unfamiliar gaze had landed on me, the way he had looked at me like I was just another stranger in the crowd. It had taken everything in me to keep my composure, to not let the storm raging inside me show on my face.I was still trying to push those thoughts away when my phone buzzed on my nightstand. Groaning, I reached for it and saw Olivia’s name flashing on the screen.“Why are you calling so early?” I muttered, rubbing my temple as I answered.“Have you seen the news?” Olivia’s voice was sharp, urgent. “You need to check it right now.”Frowning, I pulled my laptop onto my lap and clicked on the first trending article. My breath hitched. There, splashed across the screen, was a photo of me and Damian from last night—our eyes locked in a stare that, to an outsider, probably looked intense, intimate even. But
Damian’s Point of ViewI had been restless since that night I saw that boy. Something about him had burrowed into my mind, refusing to leave. I couldn’t explain it, but the moment I had looked at him, a strange feeling had settled deep in my chest—familiarity. Like I had seen him before, somewhere, in a dream, in a past I couldn't quite grasp.I had told myself it was nothing. That it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. Neither would Ava.I had spent the past few weeks carefully studying her, searching for cracks in her carefully curated facade. I had seen how she smiled for the cameras, how she clung to me when the press was near—yet, behind closed doors, she was distant. Cold. Angry.But there were moments—fleeting moments—where I caught something else in her eyes. Pain. Regret. Longing.And then, there were the flashes.They started small. A scent, a sound, a fleeting touch. Then came the images—fragments of a past that didn’t quite fit
Ava’s point of viewDamian had been watching me all evening. I felt his eyes on me even when I wasn’t looking. There was an intensity to it, a silent question burning in his gaze, as though he was trying to solve a puzzle I didn’t want him to complete.I took a sip of my wine, trying to focus on the meaningless conversation around me. The restaurant was elegant, the soft hum of conversation blending with the clinking of glasses and silverware. A violinist played in the background, but I barely heard it over the pounding of my heart.He knew something.I wasn’t sure how much, but the way he had pulled me aside earlier, the way he kept staring at me like he was peeling back my layers—it was only a matter of time before he confronted me.And I wasn’t ready for that.I forced myself to smile at one of the socialites sitting beside me, but my fingers clenched around my fork as I felt a presence behind me. A shadow loomed over the table, and then—“Ava.”Damian’s deep voice cut through the
Ava's Point of viewThe air swelled with anxiety the instant Rachel went further into the ballroom. The cameras hadn't quit flashing from our planned photo-op yet, but now they had a new target. Damian's ex-fiancee. The woman the city once imagined he'd marry. The person who had disappeared almost as mysteriously as I had. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribs like a war drum. Her smirk was not just haughty; it was poisonous. And worse? It was intended directly at me. "Well, this got interesting," I said under my breath, forcing a slight smile as I leaned closer to Damian for effect. His jaw clinched. "She wasn't supposed to be here, why is she here?""Clearly," I said, still smiling but these questions are in my heart as we turned to greet her. Rachel arrived with all the grace of a queen reclaiming her lost kingdom. She donned a crimson silk gown with her black hair wearing over one shoulder and a diamond choker that sparkled like poison around her neck.
Ava’s Point of ViewThe morning after the tabloid exploded with the truth about Damian’s memory loss, I barely slept.I stood by the window of my apartment—our apartment watching the city swirl beneath a gray sky. Rain tapped lightly against the glass, a rhythm that felt like a countdown. Any moment now, everything would shatter. Not just the illusion we had crafted for the world, but the secret I hid from Damian, fragile truth that I carefully buried from him is on the verge of coming to light.The headlines had called it “sabotage.” But it was more than that. It was betrayal. The kind that left scars not bruises. The kind that changed the course of lives forever.And soon, he’d know.I turned from the window as the front door opened. Damian stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept either. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe the truth was already starting to settle like ash in his lungs.He dropped his keys on the marble counter and looked at me.“Why didn’
Ava's perspective The stillness in the room was louder than any cry. Two babies. One cradle. One memory. My hands trembled. "Say it again," I whispered. "You left me," the child repeated. His voice, ancient and resonant with agony, jarred something loose within me. I caught glimpses of terror. Blood on the hospital bed. Caleb's name was whispered once. Not Liam. Caleb. Damian Point of ViewThe air in the room felt dense, like if you were trying to breathe underwater. Ava stood frozen in place, her gaze fixed on the child that wasn't ours—or was supposed to be. The other baby, Liam, slept soundly in Rachel's arms on the threshold. What about the baby in the crib? He was awake. And he knew things. Things he shouldn't know. "You made a deal," the boy said softly, turning to face me. I froze. "What deal?" He tilted his head. "Forget her." "To forget me." Rachel Point of View The silence between Ava and Damian felt unsettling. "You need to take a step
Ava Point of View The door groaned as I pulled it open. It smelt of lavender and death. My old room is stuck in time. The wallpaper had not peeled. My childhood books were still arranged on the shelf. The ballerina lamp on the nightstand gleamed dimly, as if it had just been turned off. I stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me. Rachel Point of View "Ava!" I hammered on the door, attempting the handle. It would not budge. "Open the door!" No response. Then I heard her voice: garbled, muttering something. But she was not speaking to me. Ava Point of ViewShe stood in a far corner. A woman wrapped in gloom, her face obscured by smoke and memory twisted together. But I knew who she was. My Mother. But she didn't look right. Too tall. Too still. "Hello, Ava." Her voice like mine. Except that they are older. Sharper. Worn down by ages of secrecy. "I've missed you," she said. "I've missed you, too," I said quietly. "But you're not real."
Damian's POV I didn't think; I just moved. Swept Liam into my arms and rolled us to the floor behind the sofa, heart pounding like a war drum. The broken glass crunched under heavy boots. Whoever was inside was not there to steal. They came for something different. "Ava!" My voice was drowned out by the silence. Then—bang—a lamp fell to the floor. Ava appeared at the hallway door, pallid, her eyes wide with rage and terror. She held Liam's iPad like it was a weapon. And behind her. A woman. Tall, elegant, blonde.And for a split second, I believed it was Rachel. But it wasn't. It was someone far worse. Ava Point of Views I could not breathe. The woman standing in the doorway was actually a mirror. Not only similar. Identical. She looked at me with the same brown eyes I saw in the mirror every day, but hers were colder. Sharper. "Who are you?" I whispered. She smiled. "Don't you recognize your other half, Ava?" My world shifted. "Adrian
Ava Point of ViewsThe safehouse smelled like lemon disinfectant and old memories. Damian stood shirtless by the window, his wounds newly treated, sunshine illuminating his flesh like a masterpiece. He seems almost... calm. But calm with Damian Cross was like spring in New York: beautiful, transient, and never far from another storm. "Say something," I muttered. He turned, his gaze finding mine. "I can't stop thinking about what I forgot." "You're remembering more?"He nodded slowly. "Bits and pieces." The wedding. Your eyes brightened up when you saw me in that suit. The baby shower. "The fight prior to the crash..." I flinched. "What fight?" His jaw clenched. "You asked me to leave my family business. I stated I couldn't. "You mentioned you were pregnant." My breath caught. "And?" “I left.” Silence. "I walked out," he whispered. "And the next day, I crashed." Damian Point of Views Ava's face contorted with misery, but she did not weep. She neve
Ava's perspective. My lungs tightened as I dashed down the corridor into the nursery. Liam's monitor hummed with static, and Landon's scream still echoed in my ears. I pushed the door open so hard that it crashed against the wall. Empty. Crib remains undisturbed. Stuffed animals are perfectly organized. Not a single hair is out of place. But Landon was gone. I surveyed the room—closet? Empty. Under the bed? Clear. Bathroom? Nothing. "LANDON!" I yelled, my chest squeezing with a mother's panic that overwhelmed all logic. My fingers rushed across my phone's screen. Call Damian."Pick up." Pick up. Damian—" "Ava?" His voice was breathless and harsh. "He's gone!" I cried. "Landon! "I swear he was in his crib, and now—" "I am on my way. Lock the doors. You should not trust anyone. I'll phone Marcus and warn the guards—" The call was dropped. There is no more sound. My reflection in the nursery mirror trembled, hollow-eyed and with ragged breath.
DAMIAN Point of ViewManhattan's skyline burnt gold as the sun sank, but my world had never felt darker. The past was pushing its way into the present, destroying everything I'd built with Ava. Lucas had returned. Rachel had a child—my child, apparently. And Liam? I was barely hanging on to who I used to be, let alone who I was supposed to become. But Lucas made one error. He expected me to play by his rules. Not anymore. "Your meeting is confirmed," Marcus stated as he entered the study. "Lucas wishes to meet at The Black Moth. Discreet. Private room. "No media."The black moth. An exclusive gentlemen's club where CEOs shared secrets over $100,000 scotch. Fitting for a serpent like Lucas. "Tell security I want eyes on every entrance," I informed them. "No surprise. "Not this time." Marcus nodded and departed without saying anything else. Across the room, Ava leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, phone flashing in her fingers. She had not said much sin
Damian's Point of View Time slowed. Rachel's words exploded in my ears, like a bomb in a quiet sanctuary. "Meet your real son." The young boy by her side clutched her hand, his huge green eyes peering up at me. He looked like Liam. Too much like him. The same expressive eyes. The same unruly hair that never seemed to stay down. The same vulnerability was emblazoned across his face, like a delicate, living canvas. Ava stood behind me, stiff from shock. I could hear her breathing—short and shallow. Her hand stretched for my shoulder to maintain equilibrium. "That's not possible," she said quietly.Rachel’s lips curled into a smirk, the same one I remembered from our twisted youth. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You, of all people, should know that nothing is impossible when you’re born a Cross.” I couldn’t look away from the boy. From Landon. I forced my voice to work. “Who is he?” Rachel crouched beside him and stroked his curls. “His name is Landon. Landon Cross. He is your
Ava's Point of ViewThe night air was dense with silence as we left Damian's father's estate. There were no words exchanged in the automobile, only the buzzing of tension between the leather seats. Damian's hands clutched the steering wheel fiercely, white knuckles against the black leather. I sat next him, my pulse racing from the revelation we had just walked away from. He offered no objection. His father confessed everything. The drug. The memory erase. The deception. And the worst part? He felt he'd done the proper thing. Damian hadn't spoken anything since. I could almost hear his thoughts raging louder than the engine.When we eventually arrived at the penthouse garage, he skipped the service valet. He parked, opened the door, and went into the elevator without looking back. I followed. The elevator doors swung open, revealing a deadly quiet apartment. Damian stood at the window, looking out at the city as if it were a battlefield."I would've thrown it al
Damian’s Point of ViewThe city lights blurred into streaks as I sped the car toward St. Jude’s Medical Center. My knuckles bled from gripping the steering wheel; each red light felt like a betrayal of time I couldn’t afford to lose.“Sophia?” I rasped, already dialing her number. No answer—just voicemail. My phone slipped from my hand as the car jolted over a pothole. My heart pounded like thunder in my ears. If Rachel had hurt Sophia… I didn’t even want to imagine it.Ava’s hand on my arm jolted me back. “Damian, breathe,” she urged, voice trembling. She steered my gaze to the dashboard—98, 102, 88—my pulse racing. “What happened?” she asked, eyes wide with panic.I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. “I don’t know, but she sounded terrified.” Sirens wailed in the distance as we pulled up to the emergency entrance. Parking the car on the curb, we sprinted inside.Hospital CorridorFluorescent lights illuminated the sterile hallway as we ran past reception. I barreled toward tria