bChapter /bb243 /b

    ADRIAN’S POV

    The moment I stepped out of the main hall, I let my back sink against the cool wall. My shoulders rxed just a little, and I exhaled a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.

    What was I doing? Why did I walk out in the first ce?

    I knew exactly why I hade here tonight, so Olivia could see me, so I could see her. That was the whole point. A simple “hello,” maybe a nod, something to prove that I wasn’t hiding from her or from the past. Yet when she finally walked into the room… I was the one who left. I had positioned myself right in her line of sight earlier, and then at the exact moment she appeared, I slipped away like a coward,

    I’ve faced far worse pressure before. Boardrooms packed with investors who wanted my head on a silver tter. Negotiations where the smallest mistake could cost me millions. I’ve been under fire, figuratively and almost literally, and still kept myposure. I stayed, fought through the tension, and came

    out on top.

    So why, a few minutes ago, did I walk away like a man with something to hide?

    It was strange, as if my mind and body weren’t in sync. From the moment I told James, “Wait here, I’m going ito /iwash my face,” I already knew it was a lie. The words had left my mouth before I could even think them through. My feet carried me toward the restroom, but deep down, I didn’t want to move bat /ball. I wanted to stay. I wanted to look her in the eye.

    Yet… I didn’t.

    Was I afraid? Afraid of seeing her again after everything? Afraid of what I might feel when I did?

    It was supposed to be a normal greeting between two people who used to know each other–nothing more. But my own reaction was making it into something else entirely.

    And then Marcus’s voice echoed in my head, his sharp toneced with mockery: You’ve got ulterior motives.

    Was that why I couldn’t face her? Was there something in me that I hadn’t admitted, even to myself?

    No. I shook my head. This was ridiculous. I was overthinking the whole thing. I’ve looked enemies dead in the eye without blinking. I’ve smiled in the face of men who would have gutted me in a heartbeat if they’d had the chance. I could do the same with Olivia.

    That’s it. I just needed a ssh of cold water to clear my head, straighten my thoughts, and walk back in there like I owned the room.

    I raked a hand through my hair, feeling the tension in my scalp. My fingers lingered there for a moment before I pushed away from the wall, ready to head for the bathroom.

    That’s when I noticed him.

    A security guard walked past, moving with purpose, one hand pressed to the earpiece in his ear. His lips were moving, murmuring something low to his team. His expression was sharp, alert–not the kind of look you wore for a casual check.

    Odd.

    He paused briefly, almost directly beside the room/next to me. I nced in that directionb, /bcatching sight of a door that wasn’t fully closed. Through the narrow gap, I caught flickers of movement and heard a jumble of noises, voicesyered over one another,ughter that didn’t sound entirely friendly, the heavy thud of something being dropped or shoved.

    It was loud enough to bleed into the hallway, though no one else seemed to be reacting

    Not my business.

    This wasn’t my building, and I didn’t have the authority or frankly, the energy to involve myself in whatever was going on behind that door. I had benough /b

    bChapter /bb243 /b

    bof /bbmy /bown bproblems /bbwithout /badding someone else’s chaos into the mix,

    I turned baway /band started toward the bathroom.

    bBut /bas I passed the door, it suddenly swung wide open, revealing a burst iof /ilight and the fuller force of the noise spilling out. I didn’t get a good look inside before ba /bsmall voice reached me from the threshold.

    “Mr, where are you going?” he asked.

    froze immediately.

    That sounded like the voice of a child.

    Well, that exins all the loud sounds I’d been hearing. It wasn’t some argument or a group of adults being noisy, it was just a kid.

    Slowly, I turned around to get a proper look at him. As soon as my eyesnded on the little figure standing there in the hallway, my brows pulled together, then arched upward in surprise..

    Why was i surprised?

    It wasn’t because he was small, most kids are. It wasn’t because he seemed out of ce though in a way, he did. It was because of one simple, strange, almost unsettling fact: a boy was standing in front of me who looked exactly like I did when I was younger.

    Not “sort of” like me. Not “oh, I guess I can see a resemnce.” No. This was different. This was… uncanny.

    I knew my own childhood face, my mother had kept enough photographs of me that the image was burned into my mind. Same wide brown eyes, same slightly crooked nose, same wayward strand of hair that refused to lie t no matter how much you tried to tame it. Even the small dimple on the left cheek–there it was, staring back at me like I was looking into a mirror from another time.

    Sure, kids can look alike. People say all babies look the same, but that’s because they’ve never seen a baby that truly mirrored their own face. This… this was something else. And I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.

    “Mr.”

    The small, hesitant voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked and refocused on him.

    “And what’s your name, little guy?” I asked, trying to sound casual even though my curiosity was gnawing at me.

    “Charlie.” His lips curved into a small smile. “You must be my new guard, right?”

    Guard?

    I nced around the hallway, my eyes sweeping over the empty stretch of corridor. No uniformed men, no shadow of anyone who could fit the description of “guard.” Just me and this boy who seemed far too certain about who I was supposed to be.

    I didn’t want to outright tell him he was mistaken. There was something about the way he looked at me like I was someone important, someone he could trust. And I didn’t want to shatter that, not immediately.

    “Where’s your dad?” bI /basked gently.

    His gaze dropped for a moment before he looked back up. “He’s far away. Mommy never speaks about him.”

    There was ino /ibitterness in his tone, no sadness just a simple statement of fact. But it still made something twist in my chest.

    “Okay… and where’s your mommy now?” I asked.

    “She’s working,” he replied without hesitation.

    Working.

    bThat /bsingle bword /btold me more than he probably realized.

    I felt my jaw tighten slightly. Jeez. Some women–some parents–were truly irresponsible. Leaving a young child alone in a room like bthis/b? Even bif /bthes building had twenty guards stationed in every corner, a child still needed their parents. You can’t just rece love and attention with security band /bthink. it’s enough.

    I leaned slightly against the wall, still watching him. He didn’t seem afraid or even lonely. That might have been the worst part, maybe bhe’d /bbgotten /bbused /bto it. Maybe this was just his normal.

    Most people don’t realize it until it’s toote. You never truly understand how precious something is until you lose it. Whether it’s time, a rtionship, or… a person. And with kids, that time is even more fragile. They don’t stay small forever.

    I don’t have a child yet. But I know myself well enough to say this: when I do, I’ll never take the role lightly. I won’t leave them wondering where bI /bam or if they matter. I’ll be there, not just in the room, but present. Really present.

    And I’d never…never…y with an opportunity like that when I be a father.

    biAD /i/b

    Send gift