The sun had begun its descent by the time Aurora stepped out of the towering glass building. The golden rays filtered through the streets of Manhattan, but all she felt was the storm gathering inside her.
Damien Blackwood.
She hadn't spoken his name aloud in years, hadn't let herself think of him beyond those stolen midnight hours when she stared at her son's sleeping face and wondered if he'd inherited more than just Damien's eyes. And now he was here, in her life again, not as a memory—but as her client.
The elevator ride down had been suffocating. She'd kept her composure, answered questions with poise, and even managed to smile when he asked for her direct number. But now, with the city buzzing around her and her heart still thudding in her ears, the weight of it hit her fully.
He didn't recognize her.
Not her face. Not her voice. Not the woman who had once whispered his name with reverence in a hotel room bathed in candlelight and reckless hope.
How could he forget?
But then again, for him, it had probably been just another night. For her… it had been everything.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her back to the present.
Maya: Noah says he drew you a picture of a dinosaur with glasses. He's very proud.
A smile cracked through her tension. Her sister always knew how to ground her. She typed quickly.
Aurora: Tell him I can't wait to see it. I'm on my way home.
She pocketed the phone, hailed a cab, and tried to leave Damien Blackwood behind.
But he wasn't done with her.
---
Damien sat alone in the boardroom, sleeves rolled to his elbows, staring at the contract she'd reviewed. It wasn't her notes that held his attention—it was her. Aurora Lane.
There was something familiar about her, something just out of reach. The tilt of her head, the fire in her eyes when he interrupted her—he liked that. Most lawyers either groveled or postured. She didn't flinch.
She looked like a woman who'd been through hell… and come back sharper.
Damien frowned, leaning back in his chair. He was rarely intrigued. Interested, yes. Attracted, often. But this was different.
"Lane…" he murmured. "Where have I heard that name?"
He brushed it off. It didn't matter. What mattered was this deal. The merger with ZenithTech could triple his company's reach—if it didn't implode under the scrutiny of federal regulators. He needed sharp minds. Aurora Lane was sharper than she looked.
He picked up his phone and dialed.
"Lena," he said, when his assistant picked up. "Get me everything you can on Aurora Lane. Employment history. Law school. Family. I want it tonight."
A pause. "Any particular reason, sir?"
Damien smiled faintly, cold and unreadable. "Call it curiosity."
---
When Aurora got home, the sound of Noah's laughter filled the hallway before she even opened the door. Her heart melted. Whatever chaos the world threw her way, this was her anchor.
"Mama!" Noah launched into her arms the second she stepped in, nearly knocking her off balance. "I made a dinosaur! With glasses! Like the ones you wear when you're tired!"
Aurora laughed, burying her face in his soft curls. "I can't wait to see it."
He pulled her by the hand to the table, where crayon-colored masterpieces lay scattered. And there it was—Noah's version of a T-Rex, complete with crooked round glasses and a tie.
"He looks like a lawyer," she said, grinning.
"He's a dino-lawyer! He protects baby dinos from bullies."
Tears prickled behind her eyes. He didn't know how close to the truth that was. She would do anything to protect him. From the world… and from the man who unknowingly gave him life.
As she tucked Noah into bed that night, she kissed his forehead and lingered in the doorway. Tomorrow she'd go back to Blackwood Enterprises. Tomorrow she'd sit across from Damien again and pretend not to know him.
But tonight, in the hush of her tiny apartment, she allowed herself to whisper the truth she couldn't say aloud.
"You have a father, Noah. And he's the most powerful man I've ever known."
She turned off the light, not noticing the man she thought she'd left behind was already watching her—closer than she thought.