Chapter 2
629words
"It's just a performance, Adrian." Ella's voice drifted from across the dressing room. In her sapphire gown, she resembled a cold, elegant sculpture. "Smile, shake hands, endure. Simple enough."
Adrian watched her reflection, his emotions tangled. This woman was always so damn flawless.
The gala buzzed with perfumed guests and clinking crystal. Adrian played his part—muscle memory guiding his smiles and small talk—while his mind remained detached, observing from a distance.
Until he spotted a familiar face.
"Adrian!" Ethan Shaw, his best friend, approached with a smile. Beside him stood a woman who made Adrian's breath catch—Julia Croft.
Still as radiantly beautiful as he remembered, with that familiar fire in her eyes.
"Adrian," Julia purred, her voice seductively captivating, "it's been ages. I've missed you terribly."
In that moment, Adrian felt he'd finally returned to reality. These were his people, his past.
"I've missed—"
Before he could finish, Ella casually linked her arm through his—a grip that left no room for escape.
"Julia," Ella said with a perfect social smile—cold as winter sunshine—"Croft Group's expansion is certainly aggressive. Though I wonder if your methods might be a touch... unethical?"
The air around them instantly froze.
Julia's face blanched momentarily before she forced a smile. "That's rich coming from you, Ella. Everyone knows you'd exploit anything for personal gain."
Sparks flew between the women with Adrian caught between them like a trophy. Yet somehow, watching Ella stand her ground with such commanding presence stirred a strange, absurd satisfaction within him.
The ride home passed in complete silence.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Adrian exploded.
"What the hell was that?" He ripped off his tie and threw it to the floor. "Proud of yourself for humiliating Julia in front of everyone?"
"Humiliating?" Ella turned, fixing him with an icy stare. "I merely stated facts. Or did seeing your ex make you forget you're a married man?"
"I never acknowledged this marriage!" he roared, advancing on her. "To me, you're nothing but an enemy who'd stop at nothing! Your family killed my father!"
"I've told you, it wasn't my family," Ella's voice hardened, tinged with exhaustion.
"Why should I believe you?" Adrian grabbed her arm with crushing force. "From a woman like you, I wouldn't believe a single word!"
"Let go, Adrian!" Her voice sharpened to a knife's edge.
He ignored her, shoving her roughly aside.
Ella lost her balance, stumbled backward, and crashed hard into the marble side table.
"Umph!" A pained groan escaped her lips.
Adrian's rage vanished instantly, replaced by cold fear. Again his body moved before his mind could catch up—darting forward, steadying her arms, pulling her back against him.
"Ella, I—"
The apology died in his throat.
His thumb pressed against her inner wrist where he'd grabbed her. Beneath his fingertip, he felt something unusual.
Not smooth skin.
But a subtle, raised line.
He froze, slowly looking down.
In the light, an old scar with silvery-white sheen lay quietly against her pale skin.
Time froze around them.
Adrian's mind went blank. At nineteen, he had no memory of this scar.
But his fingers, his lips, every cell in his body screamed with familiarity.
Not as a memory. But as a feeling.
A feeling... of having traced this scar with his lips countless times, of having soothed it with tender kisses.
It was a bone-deep intimacy that only exists between lovers.
He jerked his head up, meeting Ella's panicked gaze. Those eyes—usually glacial—now nakedly exposed a sadness and pain he couldn't comprehend.
An invisible hand squeezed Adrian's heart.
A terrifying thought emerged—one that could shatter his entire reality.
What exactly have I forgotten?
