The taxi ride from Blackwood Tower to the airport felt longer than usual, though the driver took the fastest route possible. Aria didn't notice. Her fingers curled tightly around the leather strap of her handbag, and her eyes stayed glued to the blurred, rain-streaked window. She didn't see the passing buildings, the neon lights flickering awake, or the people hurrying under umbrellas. Her mind replayed a single image—his face.
Elias Blackwood.
It had gone exactly as planned—cold, professional, distant. She had delivered her lines with practiced poise, never flinching, never faltering. She had walked into that office prepared for anything.
Or so she'd thought.
The moment their eyes met, something inside her had stuttered. His presence still had the same gravity it used to—heavy, commanding, impossible to ignore. And then there was that pause. That hesitation in his voice when he said her name.
A name she'd once begged him to say with warmth. A name he used to speak like a sigh. Now, it sounded like a question.
She pressed a hand against her chest, where the dull ache had taken root.
It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.
Not when her son was waiting.
She leaned back into the seat, closed her eyes, and let the city fade.
It was close to 9 p.m. when Aria stepped out of the cab in front of her apartment building. The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick and still. She climbed the stairs two at a time, the heels of her shoes now in her hand, her briefcase slung over her shoulder.
This was the life she had built—quiet, modest, and far from the gleaming chaos of Blackwood Industries.
As she turned the key in the lock, she pushed the door open gently, hoping Eli would still be asleep. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light.
"Mommy?"
The small voice from the hallway made her heart throb.
There he was. Her reason. Her anchor.
Eli stood barefoot in his pajamas, clutching a stuffed lion in one hand, the other rubbing sleep from his eyes. His curls were a soft halo around his head, and his eyes—those piercing grey eyes—looked at her with warmth and wonder.
"Hey, sweetheart," she whispered, crouching as he ran into her arms. She held him close, inhaling the baby-shampoo scent of his hair, her arms wrapping around his tiny body like she could shield him from the whole world.
"I missed you!" he squealed, burying his face in her neck.
"I missed you too, baby. So, so much."
He pulled back slightly and touched her cheek with his small hand. "You look sad."
Aria blinked. Children were perceptive in ways adults often forgot. She forced a smile, brushing his cheek. "I just had a long day."
He pouted in that dramatic way only toddlers could. "I drew you something."
"You did?" she asked, letting him take her hand and tug her down the hallway.
In the living room, beside the scattered blocks and picture books, lay a crayon drawing. It was crude and colorful—scribbled hearts, a house with three windows, and three stick figures standing side by side. One wore a dress, one was tiny with big eyes, and the third… the third was tall.
"That's us!" Eli said proudly. "Me, you, and Daddy."
Aria's heart stopped. Her knees hit the floor.
"Daddy?" she echoed, her voice softer than the hum of the fridge behind her.
He nodded, grinning. "Miss Marla said every boy has a daddy. I told her mine is busy building tall buildings like in the books. So I drew him anyway."
Aria stared at the drawing. The figure had black hair, just like Elias. Sharp lines. A straight mouth. A memory immortalized by a child who had never met the man.
She forced her voice steady. "He would've loved this."
Eli tilted his head. "Do you know him, Mommy?"
The words hit like a punch.
She looked at her son, unsure how much truth his heart could bear. He was only four. Too young for the weight of complicated adult choices. Too innocent to understand contracts and pain and the way love sometimes shattered into silence.
"I do," she said finally, stroking his curls. "He used to be someone very special to me."
Eli blinked. "Where is he now?"
Aria's smile faltered. "Far away."
But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true anymore.
Across the city, Elias stood in the dark of his office. The lights of the skyline flickered outside, cold and unreachable. His reflection stared back at him from the glass—stoic, still, unreadable. But inside, something stormed.
Aria.
He had watched her walk away again—elegant, composed, and haunting. His hands clenched at his sides. There was something different about her now. Not just the clothes or the way she carried herself.
She had always been beautiful. But now, she had a kind of strength that scared him.
And something else.
Something she didn't say.
Elias had always been good at reading people. It was how he closed deals before competitors knew there was a game being played. But Aria had always been an exception. He could never fully read her. Not then. Not now.
He sat down and opened her file on his computer. It was supposed to be routine—just due diligence. But he found himself zooming in on the address.
A different company name. A modest neighborhood. No obvious traces. For three years, she had vanished.
And suddenly… he wasn't sure it had just been about leaving him.
He leaned back in his chair, a chill creeping into his bones.
She'd walked away from everything—money, comfort, even the finalization of their divorce.
Why?
What was she hiding?
He didn't have answers. But Elias Blackwood didn't let questions go unanswered for long.
Especially not the kind that involved Aria.
That night, Aria sat on the edge of Eli's bed. The soft hum of the nightlight glowed in the corner. She ran her fingers gently through his curls as he slept, one hand still wrapped around her thumb, as if afraid she'd disappear if he let go.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "Not again."
She watched him breathe, slow and even. Every rise and fall of his chest was a miracle. A choice. A second chance.
Raising him on her own hadn't been easy. There were nights she'd cried quietly into her pillow, terrified of failing him. Days she skipped meals to make sure he had enough. Moments when the absence of Elias—of support, of partnership, of love—felt like a gaping hole in her soul.
But Eli had made it worth it.
He was hers. A living piece of everything she had both lost and gained.
Still… tonight was different. She felt it in her blood.
Elias was close now.
He had looked at her differently. As if he'd seen a crack in her armor. As if he sensed something.
And Elias Blackwood was not the kind of man who ignored instincts.
She leaned down and kissed Eli's forehead. "Sleep well, baby."
As she turned out the light, a single thought burned behind her eyes:
If he found out…
If Elias discovered the truth…
Would he try to take her son away?
Or worse…
Would he try to come back into their lives?
She stood in the hallway, hand resting against the wall, letting the silence settle around her like a second skin.
The past was no longer past. It was here. Now. In the form of a man who once held her heart, and a child who unknowingly carried his reflection.
And soon…
It would knock on her door.