Chapter Twenty Two

Kyla. 

I shouldn’t be here.

Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to turn around, to slip back into the elevator before the secretary behind the glass desk can even notice me. My heart is beating so hard I can hear it in my ears, thundering like a war drum.

But I don’t move.

Instead, I stand rooted to the marble floor of Donovan Enterprises, clutching my handbag like it’s the only thing anchoring me to the earth. The scent of polished wood, expensive cologne, and cold steel fills the air a scent that is so unmistakably him.

Jake Donovan.

The man who once swore to love me until his last breath. The man who betrayed me with my own sister. The man who thinks I’ve been dead for five years.

And now here I am, about to walk into his office.

“Ma’am, do you have an appointment?” The secretary’s voice pulls me out of my spiral. She peers up at me, her smile polite but cautious.

My throat feels dry, but I force my voice out. “No, but tell him it's Kyla.”

The name hangs in the air like a thunderclap. The woman’s eyes widen, her hand freezing over her keyboard. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll laugh at me, tell me to stop joking. But instead, she stares at me like I’m a ghost. Which, in a way, I am.

She swallows and presses the intercom. “Mr. Donovan, there’s a… there’s someone here to see you. She says her name is Kyla.”

Static crackles, and then his voice fills the room. Deep. Commanding. Sharp enough to slice through me like glass.

“Send her in.”

My legs almost give out. Just hearing him is enough to unravel me, to drag me back to every moment we shared every kiss, every fight, every lie.

The secretary gestures toward the double doors. “He’s expecting you.”

Expecting me. He has no idea.

I draw in a shaky breath, square my shoulders, and push open the doors.

The moment I step inside, time stops.

He’s there. Behind his massive oak desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, jaw hard. Papers are scattered across the surface, but his eyes, those stormy gray eyes, are locked on me.

And for the first time in years, Jake Donovan looks completely undone.

“Kyla,” he breathes, standing so quickly his chair topples backward. “It’s.. it’s really you.”

His voice is raw, disbelieving, as if saying my name out loud will make me vanish again.

I swallow hard. “Yes. It’s me.”

For a moment, neither of us moves. The tension between us is a living, breathing thing, coiling tighter and tighter. His eyes rake over me like he’s memorizing me all over again, like he can’t decide whether to pull me into his arms or shake me until I explain why I disappeared.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” I whisper, though I know I’m lying. I came because I had to. Because hiding is no longer enough and it was better for me to find him before he found me. I needed our interactions to be monitored. 

His fists clench at his sides. “You’ve been gone for five years Kyla. Do you have any idea what that’s done to me?”

The fury in his voice makes me flinch, but beneath it, I hear something else. Something ragged and broken.

“You think I don’t know what five years feels like?” My voice cracks despite my efforts to stay composed. “I lived every second of them, Jake. Alone while you moved on with my sister and went ahead to have the family we always wanted.”

His eyes flash. “Alone?” He stalks around the desk, closing the distance between us with long, purposeful strides. “Don’t lie to me. No one disappears for half a decade without help. Who was it? Who kept you hidden?” he asks ignoring my last statement. 

“I don’t owe you that answer,” I say, lifting my chin. My knees are shaking, but I refuse to let him see it.

He stops just inches away, his presence suffocating. His scent rich, familiar, intoxicating wraps around me, threatening to drag me under.

“You owe me everything,” he growls. “You were my wife. I thought you were dead, Kyla. Do you have any idea what it felt like to bury you in my mind every single day?”

The words slice through me. My chest tightens, and tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. I can’t afford to break here. Not in front of him.

“You didn’t bury me, Jake. You replaced me,” I whisper, my voice trembling with fury and grief. “With her. With Amina, with my sister, my blood sister.”

"Half sister." he corrected me. 

"Oooh, so that makes it all better huh?" 

The name hangs in the air like poison. His jaw tightens, guilt flickering across his face before he masks it with anger.

“That’s not what this is about,” he snaps.

“Isn’t it?” I demand. My composure cracks, the pain I’ve been burying for years spilling out. “You broke me, Jake. And when I needed you most, you weren’t there. Married to my own sister and you are trying to justify it by saying she is my half sister.” I said, the tears finally falling, "I needed you, your children needed you." 

His face drains of color, his mouth parting like I just ripped the ground out from under him. “Children?” he echoes, his voice a hoarse whisper. "What do you mean by that Kyla?" 

My heart stutters, panic rising. The truth slipped out before I could stop it. I definitely had no plan of telling him about Elias and Chanel. 

I shake my head quickly, stepping back. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.”

I turn to leave, but his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist with desperate force. His touch burns, too familiar, too dangerous.

“Kyla,” he pleads, his voice cracking in a way I’ve never heard before. “Don’t walk out on me again. What do you mean by children, what children?.”

For a fraction of a second, my resolve wavers. I see the man I once loved, the man who held my heart, the father of my children. But then I remember the betrayal, the years of silence, the nights I cried alone.

I wrench my wrist free, forcing steel into my spine. “You lost the right to ask me for anything, Jake. Five years ago.”

And with that, I walk out, my heels echoing against the floor, each step tearing me apart.

Behind me, I hear the sound of his chair being shoved violently against the desk, the crash of glass against the wall. His fury fills the room like fire.

But I don’t look back.

I can’t.

Because if I do, I might never leave again.