ADRIAN'S POV
She's alive.
My heart slams against my ribs as I watch Eva—no, Celeste—walk away from me. Five years of searching. Five years of nightmares where I see her face twisted in pain as they drag her away. Five years of knowing I destroyed an innocent woman.
And she's been alive this whole time.
"Mr. Thorne?" Marcus appears beside me. My uncle's smile is fake, like always. "Everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I have seen a ghost. Except ghosts aren't supposed to be real. Ghosts don't wear crimson gowns and diamonds. Ghosts don't buy companies to destroy you.
"I'm fine," I lie.
But I'm not fine. My hands shake. My chest feels tight. Eva is alive, and she hates me. I saw it in her eyes—pure, cold hatred.
I deserve it.
Marcus keeps talking about some investor meeting, but I don't hear him. All I can see is Eva's face five years ago. We were at this same gala. She wore white that night—a beautiful dress for our engagement party. She was glowing, happy, laughing.
Then my mother pulled me aside. Showed me evidence. Bank transfers. Stolen files. Eva's signature everywhere.
"She's using you," Mother said. "She's stealing from us and selling secrets to our competitors."
I didn't believe it. Not at first. Eva loved me. We were building a future together.
But the evidence kept coming. More files. More proof. Mother cried. Marcus showed me security footage. Even James, my best friend, looked worried.
"You need to protect the company," everyone said.
So I did. I chose Thorne Global over the woman I loved. I had her arrested at our own engagement party. Watched security put handcuffs on her wrists. Watched her beg me to believe her.
"Adrian, please! I didn't do this! I love you!"
I turned my back on her.
Two years ago, I found the truth. Mother and Marcus had framed her. Created fake evidence. Stole from the company themselves and blamed Eva. They destroyed her because they thought she wasn't good enough for our family.
I've been searching for her ever since. Hired the best investigators. Checked every country. Found nothing.
Because Eva Cross died. And Celeste Monroe was born.
"Thorne!" Someone slaps my shoulder. "Great party!"
I smile automatically. Shake hands. Make small talk. But inside, I'm dying. Eva is somewhere in this ballroom, and I need to talk to her. Need to explain. Need to beg for forgiveness I don't deserve.
I push through the crowd, searching. Where did she go? The terrace?
Then I see her again.
She's talking to Robert Chen, the tech billionaire. Smiling. Laughing like she doesn't have a care in the world. Like she didn't just destroy me five minutes ago.
The British man—Dominic something—stands too close to her. His hand rests on her lower back. Possessive. Protective.
Jealousy burns through me like acid. Does she love him? Did she move on while I rotted in guilt?
Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? I threw her away.
My phone buzzes. A message from James: Where are you? We need to talk about the Meridian situation.
Meridian Tech. Eva owns it now. That's not a coincidence. She bought the one company we desperately need. She's destroying Thorne Global piece by piece.
Good. I deserve it.
I start walking toward her again. I don't have a plan. Don't know what I'll say. But I need to be close to her. Need to—
"Adrian Thorne." A woman's voice stops me. Victoria Hastings, a reporter. Her eyes gleam with curiosity. "Is it true you know Celeste Monroe? You two seemed very intense earlier."
"No comment."
"Come on. Give me something. Who is she really? Where did she come from?"
I want to scream that she's Eva. That she's the woman I destroyed. That she's back for revenge and I'm going to let her have it.
Instead, I walk away.
I find a quiet corner and pull out my phone. My hands shake as I type a message to Eva's company email—the only contact information I have:
Please. Just talk to me. Five minutes. I know I don't deserve it, but please. I need to explain.
I hit send.
Then I watch Eva across the room. She pulls out her phone. Reads something. Her face goes completely white.
She drops her champagne glass. It shatters on the floor.
People gasp. Turn to look. But Eva doesn't notice. She's staring at her phone like it's a bomb.
Something's wrong.
I start pushing through the crowd toward her. Eva looks up, panicked. Her eyes find mine across the room.
For one second, I see terror on her face. Real, raw terror.
Then Dominic grabs her arm. They rush toward the exit. Eva's practically running in her high heels.
What the hell happened?
I follow them outside. They're already getting into a black car. Eva looks back once. Our eyes meet.
"I'm sorry," I mouth.
The car door slams. They drive away.
My phone buzzes. Finally, a response to my message. But it's not from Eva's company email. It's from an unknown number:
Stop looking for Evangeline Cross. She's gone. If you keep digging into the past, you'll destroy more than just yourself this time. Some secrets are better left buried.
My blood runs cold.
Who sent this? Marcus? Mother?
Another message comes through. This one includes a photo.
I open it and my world stops.
It's a little girl. Maybe four years old. Dark hair. Grey eyes—my eyes. She's sleeping in a pink bedroom, holding a stuffed bunny.
The message below says: Beautiful daughter. Would hate for anything to happen to
her.
I can't breathe.
Eva has a child.
A child with my eyes.