I knew something was wrong the moment Damian stopped answering my calls.
Not one call.
Not two.
Seven.
Seven unanswered calls from the man who had spent the last five years telling me I was the most important person in his life.
I stared at my phone from the passenger seat of my car, watching the screen go dark again.
Damian Cross.
His name was still pinned at the top of my favorites.
I almost laughed at the irony.
“Maybe he’s busy,” I whispered.
Even as I said it, I knew I didn't believe myself.
Damian wasn't the kind of man who ignored me.
Not before tonight.
I glanced at the small velvet box resting on my lap.
Inside was the watch I had spent three weeks choosing for him.
His birthday wasn't until next week, but I had wanted to surprise him.
More than that, I had wanted to tell him something tonight.
Something I had kept secret for years.
Something that would change both our lives.
I touched the box with my fingertips.
Then my phone vibrated.
My heart jumped.
But it wasn't Damian.
It was Sophia.
Sophia: Where are you?
I typed quickly.
Me: At Blackwood Hotel.
Her reply came almost immediately.
Sophia: Why?
I hesitated.
Me: I'm meeting Damian.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Sophia: Elena, please tell me you didn't go there alone.
I frowned.
Me: Why wouldn't I?
This time, her response took longer.
Sophia: Just call me when you get there.
I stared at the message.
Something about it made my stomach tighten.
Before I could respond, I heard laughter coming from the hotel entrance.
I looked up.
Blackwood Hotel was one of the most expensive hotels in the city. Its entrance was surrounded by black marble pillars, gold lighting, and rows of expensive cars.
Damian had told me he was meeting some investors here.
I had believed him.
I always believed him.
That was probably my first mistake.
I stepped out of the car, clutching the velvet box inside my purse.
The cold evening air brushed against my skin.
I adjusted my coat and walked toward the entrance.
The receptionist smiled.
“Good evening, Ms. Rosewood.”
I paused.
“Good evening.”
She looked at her computer.
“Mr. Cross is hosting a private dinner upstairs.”
My heart skipped.
“He is?”
“Yes. The seventeenth-floor private lounge.”
I smiled faintly.
“Thank you.”
As I walked toward the elevator, I wondered why Damian hadn't mentioned a private dinner.
Maybe it was a surprise.
Maybe he was preparing something for me.
Maybe—
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside.
For some reason, my hands had started trembling.
I looked down at them.
“Calm down, Elena.”
The doors closed.
Seventeen floors.
That was all.
When the elevator opened again, I stepped into a quiet corridor.
The private lounge was at the end.
I could hear voices before I reached the door.
Male voices.
Laughter.
Then Damian's voice.
I smiled.
At least he was here.
I reached for the handle.
Then I heard my name.
I froze.
“Does Elena know?”
The question came from a man I didn't recognize.
There was a short silence.
Then Damian laughed.
It was a laugh I had heard thousands of times.
Except tonight, it sounded different.
“She doesn't know anything.”
My fingers tightened around the door handle.
Another man chuckled.
“You've been with her for five years. Doesn't she suspect something?”
“Suspect what?”
Damian sounded amused.
I stopped breathing.
The man replied, “That you're finished with her.”
My stomach dropped.
A chair scraped across the floor.
Damian sighed.
“I'm not finished with her. I'm simply moving on.”
Moving on?
I stared at the door.
My mind refused to understand.
Then another voice spoke.
“What's wrong with Elena?”
Damian laughed again.
“Nothing is wrong with her.”
He paused.
“She just isn't useful to me anymore.”
My heart stopped.
The velvet box inside my purse suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't even blink.
Then Damian said the words that shattered everything I thought I knew.
“She has no family name worth mentioning. No money. No connections. She's just Elena.”
Someone laughed.
“Didn't you love her?”
“For a while.”
My vision blurred.
For a while.
Five years.
He had loved me for a while.
I pressed one hand against the wall.
I needed to leave.
Immediately.
But my feet refused to move.
Then Damian continued.
“Besides, Vivienne's family can give me something Elena never could.”
Vivienne.
The name hit me like ice water.
Vivienne Sterling.
I had met her several times.
She had always been polite.
Too polite.
She had once called me “sweet” while staring at my clothes like she was evaluating their price.
I had never liked the way she looked at Damian.
Apparently, I had been right.
“Is it really worth throwing away five years?” someone asked.
Damian answered without hesitation.
“Yes.”
One word.
That was all it took.
Something inside me went completely still.
I wasn't crying.
Not yet.
I wasn't angry either.
I simply felt empty.
I looked down at my purse.
The watch.
The gift.
The secret I had planned to tell him.
For years, I had hidden parts of myself from Damian.
Not because I didn't trust him.
Because I wanted to know whether he loved me.
Not my family.
Not my name.
Not money.
Just me.
I had grown up away from the Rosewood estate.
My parents had insisted that I live quietly.
They told me the world didn't need to know who I was.
They told me there were people who would try to use me if they discovered my family's identity.
So I became Elena.
Just Elena.
I went to university.
I worked.
I built a quiet life.
And I loved Damian.
I had planned to tell him everything tonight.
Instead, I was standing outside a room listening to him explain why I wasn't worth keeping.
The door suddenly opened.
I stepped backward.
A waiter walked out carrying an empty tray.
He nearly bumped into me.
“Sorry, ma'am.”
I forced a smile.
“It's okay.”
He disappeared down the hallway.
I stared at the door.
I could walk away.
That would be easy.
But something inside me refused.
I opened the door.
The conversation stopped.
Every face turned toward me.
Damian stood beside the table.
The color drained from his face.
“E-Elena?”
I looked at him.
Then at the others.
Finally, I looked at Vivienne.
She was sitting beside Damian.
Her hand rested on the table.
A diamond bracelet glittered around her wrist.
She looked at me with surprise.
Then something else.
Guilt.
Not enough guilt to look away.
Just enough to tell me she knew exactly what had been happening.
I smiled.
It was strange.
I had expected myself to scream.
Instead, I felt calm.
“Don't stop,” I said.
Damian swallowed.
“Elena, this isn't what you think.”
I laughed softly.
“Really?”
I stepped into the room.
“Then tell me what it is.”
Nobody answered.
I looked at him.
“Go ahead.”
He stood.
“Let's talk privately.”
“No.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“Elena—”
“You wanted to talk about me when I wasn't here.”
My voice was steady.
“Now I'm here.”
Vivienne stood too.
“Maybe we should give you two some privacy.”
I turned toward her.
“You've had enough privacy with my boyfriend.”
Her face tightened.
Damian stepped between us.
“Don't talk to her like that.”
I stared at him.
“Your girlfriend?”
He didn't answer.
I nodded slowly.
“That's what I thought.”
“It's complicated,” Damian said.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It really isn't.”
I pulled the velvet box from my purse.
Damian's eyes dropped to it.
“What is that?”
I held it out.
“Your birthday present.”
He stared at me.
Then at the box.
“I don't want it.”
Something inside my chest cracked.
Not because he rejected the gift.
Because he didn't even care enough to wonder what was inside.
I put the box on the table.
“Good.”
I turned around.
“Wait.”
Damian caught my wrist.
I looked down at his hand.
Then up at him.
“Let go.”
He hesitated.
“Can we just talk?”
“We've talked.”
“You don't understand what happened.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No, you don't.”
His voice became frustrated.
“I need Vivienne's family. You know how difficult my position is.”
I stared at him.
“So this is about business.”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Then he seemed to realize what he had admitted.
I smiled bitterly.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finally telling me the truth.”
I pulled my wrist free.
“You should have done it five years ago.”
I walked toward the door.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
Damian's voice softened.
“You know I cared about you.”
I turned around.
“Did you?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I looked at him for several seconds.
“Then why was I the only person in the room who didn't know our relationship was already over?”
Silence.
Nobody had an answer.
I walked out.
The moment the elevator doors closed, my legs nearly gave out.
I leaned against the wall.
My breathing became uneven.
I stared at my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors.
I looked exactly the same.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same woman who had walked into that room believing she was loved.
But something had changed.
Maybe it was the way I finally saw Damian.
Maybe it was the way I finally saw myself.
The elevator reached the lobby.
I walked outside.
Sophia called.
I answered.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I'm going home.”
Her voice immediately changed.
“Elena?”
“I heard everything.”
Silence.
Then, quietly, “Oh.”
I closed my eyes.
“He chose Vivienne.”
Sophia cursed under her breath.
“I'm coming to you.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“I need to be alone.”
“You shouldn't be alone right now.”
“I'll be okay.”
I ended the call.
I wasn't sure whether that was true.
I got into my car.
For several minutes, I simply sat there.
Then I started the engine.
I didn't go home.
Instead, I drove toward the one place I went whenever I needed to think.
The old Rosewood house.
It sat outside the city behind iron gates and tall trees.
Almost nobody knew I still had access to it.
That was exactly why I loved it.
The house had belonged to my grandmother.
It had been empty for years.
I parked outside and walked in.
The silence was immediate.
I switched on a lamp.
Dust covered most of the furniture.
I walked toward the old piano.
My fingers touched the keys.
One note echoed through the room.
Then another.
I sat down.
I didn't play.
I simply stared at the piano.
My grandmother had taught me to play there.
She had also been the first person to tell me that my family wasn't ordinary.
I had been too young to understand.
Now I wondered how much she had known.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Damian.
Damian: We need to talk.
I deleted it.
Another message arrived.
Damian: Please don't make a decision tonight.
I stared at the screen.
Then laughed.
What decision?
He had already made his.
I turned off my phone.
A strange sensation suddenly passed through me.
Cold.
Then heat.
I looked around.
Nothing.
My eyes landed on an old wooden cabinet.
Something inside it seemed to pull at my attention.
I stood.
I walked toward it.
I had never felt anything like this before.
When I touched the cabinet door, a sharp pressure flashed behind my eyes.
I gasped.
For a second, the room disappeared.
I saw a woman standing in the same room.
My mother.
She looked younger than I remembered.
She was holding a silver pendant.
The same pendant I had worn around my neck since childhood.
She was speaking to someone I couldn't see.
“Keep Elena away from them.”
The vision vanished.
I stumbled backward.
My heart raced.
“What was that?”
I touched the pendant at my throat.
It was warm.
Far warmer than it should have been.
Then I heard something outside.
A car.
I froze.
Headlights swept across the windows.
Someone had followed me.
I moved toward the curtain and carefully looked through the gap.
A black SUV was parked outside the gates.
The engine was still running.
My phone was dead.
My hands went cold.
Who was that?
I stepped away from the window.
Then the SUV's headlights switched off.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Black suit.
He stood beneath the old trees, looking directly toward the house.
Even from a distance, there was something unsettling about him.
Something powerful.
He didn't move.
He simply stared at the house.
Then, slowly, his head turned toward the exact window where I stood.
Our eyes met through the glass.
I couldn't explain how.
The distance was too great.
The darkness was too deep.
Yet I knew he had seen me.
A strange pressure filled the room.
My pulse raced.
The man started walking toward the house.
One step.
Then another.
I backed away.
I had no idea who he was.
But somewhere deep inside me, a voice I had never heard before whispered one word.
Run.
And for the first time that night, I realized Damian Cross might not be the biggest problem in my life.
Because whoever had just found me at the Rosewood house seemed to know exactly who I was.
And somehow, I had the terrifying feeling that he had been looking for me for a very long time.
