The plane dipped through clouds like a slow sigh before gliding toward the glowing city below.
Nova Heights.
Five years, and the skyline still glittered like ambition itself — glass towers reaching for heaven, traffic pulsing like veins through its streets. The city of opportunity. The city she swore she'd never come back to.
Yet here she was.
Amelia Jones adjusted her seatbelt as the flight attendant's voice echoed through the cabin. Her reflection in the window looked calmer than she felt — soft blonde waves spilling down her shoulder, blue eyes tired but steady.
Five years had changed her.
Motherhood had changed her.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nova Heights International Airport."
Her fingers brushed against the small silver locket around her neck. Inside were three tiny photos — Lily, Ethan, and Emily. Her babies. Her world.
She whispered their names like a prayer.
"Be good for Aunt Chloe, okay? Mommy's coming back soon."
Her voice cracked a little. She blinked fast.
They were only six — too young to understand the weight of her decisions, too young to know that she'd once dreamed of their father walking through that hospital door.
He never did.
She told herself she didn't care anymore. But sometimes, at night, when the kids were asleep, she still caught herself staring at the ceiling, wondering if he'd ever looked back.
The man who didn't even know they existed.
Christopher King.
The name still tasted like fire and regret.
She pushed the thought away and focused on the present. She had come back for one reason — to rebuild. To work. To stand on her own two feet again.
Nova Heights was ruthless, but so was she.
The airport buzzed with life as she stepped into the terminal — cameras flashing, voices overlapping, luxury cars waiting for the wealthy and powerful. She dragged her suitcase forward, blending into the chaos.
Her best friend, Mia Carter, waved from the crowd, her smile bright and chaotic as ever.
"Finally! I thought customs kidnapped you or something."
Amelia laughed, relief flooding her chest. "Missed you too."
Mia pulled her into a hug, then leaned back to study her. "Damn, you look good for a mom of three."
"Thanks," Amelia said, rolling her eyes. "It's the stress diet."
They both laughed, the sound easy and familiar.
Outside, the air smelled like rain and concrete. They climbed into Mia's beat-up sedan — a far cry from the limos and town cars lined up beside them — and drove toward the city's heart.
"So," Mia started, glancing at her. "You really planning to stay this time?"
Amelia nodded. "Yeah. I need to work. Aunt Chloe can only do so much. I'm done running."
Mia gave a small whistle. "And where exactly do you plan to work, Miss 'I've-been-abroad-for-five-years'?"
"I applied for a few admin positions," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Some in corporate event planning too. I just need one yes."
Mia grinned. "You'll get it. You always do."
They pulled up to Mia's apartment — a cozy two-bedroom with mismatched furniture and more warmth than any mansion.
Amelia exhaled deeply, dragging her suitcase up the steps. Every muscle in her body ached, but her heart felt strangely full.
That night, lying awake on the couch, she stared at the ceiling again. The city hummed outside the window — cars, sirens, life moving forward without her.
She reached for her phone and opened the last photo her aunt sent: her three kids sleeping together, arms tangled, faces peaceful.
A small smile crept onto her lips.
"For you," she whispered. "Everything I do now… is for you."
Her phone buzzed suddenly. A message popped up from a company she'd applied to earlier in the week:
> KINGS CORPORATION:
Your application for the event coordinator position has been reviewed. You are invited to an interview tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.
Her blood froze.
King's Corporation.
The screen blurred as she stared at the name — the one she'd tried so hard to erase.
Christopher King.
The same man who didn't remember her face.
The same man who once took everything from her — and never even knew it.
She shut her eyes, breathing hard.
The universe was playing with her again.
Still, she whispered to herself, steady and defiant:
"I'm not that girl anymore."
But deep down, Amelia knew this city — and the man who ruled it — were about to test every wall she'd built.
And tomorrow, she would walk right into his world again.
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