Chapter 11

The atmosphere on the top floor of Ashford Group was unusually calm that morning. The sky outside was still gray after last night’s heavy rain. Liam sat behind his desk, staring blankly at a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. His thoughts drifted elsewhere. Ever since that unexpected encounter at the airport, the image of Elara—and the little boy who had bumped into him—had been haunting his peace.

A soft knock broke the silence.

“Come in,” he said flatly, not lifting his gaze.

Noah entered, his expression tense, clutching a brown folder and a tablet in his hands. He bowed slightly before speaking.

“Mr. Liam… I think you need to see this.”

The seriousness in his tone made Liam raise his head. His brows furrowed.

“What is it, Noah? You look… nervous.”

Noah swallowed hard, hesitating before finally speaking.

“Three children… came to the office yesterday. They… claimed to be your kids.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unreal. For a moment, silence swallowed the entire room. The ticking clock on the wall grew unbearably loud, marking the seconds before something inside Liam exploded.

His gaze sharpened. “What did you just say?”

“Three small children, about six years old. They came to the lobby carrying a letter for you.” Noah opened the folder and handed him a few pages of the security report. “The guards stopped them since they didn’t have an appointment, and—”

“And?” Liam’s tone hardened.

“—Mrs. Celine happened to pass by. She… handled the situation in her own way.”

Liam shot up from his chair, striding quickly to the front of the desk. “Show me.”

Noah immediately tapped the tablet, opening a CCTV recording. On the screen, three small children stood in front of the reception desk: a serious-looking boy holding an umbrella, another clutching a damp sheet of paper that read ‘For Our Dad’, and a little girl with long hair holding a paper cup of coffee.

Liam froze. His breath caught in his throat.

“Devano…” he whispered, almost unconsciously. “That’s… my face when I was a kid.”

He zoomed in on the footage, studying each child carefully. Dirga, the boy on the right, had sharp, piercing eyes—eyes identical to his own. And the little girl, Leviana… black hair, pale skin, and a soft smile that pierced right through his chest.

“Elara,” he breathed. “She looks just like Elara.”

His hand trembled as he touched the screen. A strange wave of longing surged through him—raw, unfamiliar, uncontrollable. He didn’t even realize his eyes had begun to glisten.

Noah hesitated, watching him with concern. “Sir… they really do look like you. Even the reception staff said the same.”

Liam gave a faint, almost wistful smile. “So… they’re doing fine. Elara… she—”

Before he could finish, the door burst open. The sharp click of heels echoed against the marble floor.

Celine strode in, face tight with restrained fury. “Liam!”

He quickly straightened and closed the tablet. “What is it?”

Celine’s glare shifted to Noah. “Leave us.”

Noah looked uncertainly at Liam, who gave a small nod. “It’s fine. Go.”

Once the door closed, Celine slammed her designer bag on the desk. “I heard you’ve found out about those children.”

Liam’s voice turned cold. “Yes. And I’d like to know why they were treated like criminals in my own building.”

Celine scoffed, folding her arms. “So now you actually believe they’re yours?”

“Celine,” Liam’s voice dropped dangerously low, “I saw the footage. You slapped that boy.”

“Because he spilled coffee on my bag!” she shot back, her eyes blazing. “And don’t forget, Liam—Elara left you years ago! You think she stayed faithful all that time? Those children aren’t yours!”

Her words echoed in the vast office. Liam went still, his gaze narrowing. “What are you implying?”

Celine looked down, feigning a wounded expression before speaking softly, “Elara remarried after your divorce. I’ve heard she lived abroad with another man for years. I have sources who can confirm it.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “Do you have proof?”

Her lips curled slightly. “Not yet. But you know women like her… purity doesn’t last long once they’re abandoned.”

The insult hit him like a blade. He felt something twist deep inside his chest—rage, disbelief, confusion—all at once.

Celine stepped closer, lowering her voice to a poisoned whisper. “I’m only trying to protect you from a scandal, Liam. Don’t let your past ruin your reputation. Those children… they’re not your responsibility.”

She held his gaze, searching for a reaction. “Trust me, they’re not your blood.”

Silence fell once again. Then Celine turned and walked out gracefully, leaving behind the heavy scent of her perfume.

Liam remained still, jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders unmoving. Slowly, he reopened the tablet on his desk and replayed the footage. The faces of the three children filled the screen again.

“How could they… not be mine?” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly.

He paused the video, zooming in on Leviana’s face until her frightened eyes filled the frame. Despite her fear, he saw something familiar there—something unmistakable. The way she looked at the world, with warmth and quiet courage… just like Elara once looked at him.

A fire began to burn in his chest—not of anger, but of uncertainty.

Was Elara truly lying? Or was Celine weaving another trap of deceit?

Liam turned toward the massive glass window. From this height, the city looked so small, yet his mind was in chaos. He felt something he hadn’t felt in years—curiosity, guilt, and an aching longing.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, whispering to himself, “I need to know the truth… with my own eyes.”

Outside, the sky had begun to bleed into shades of red. The afternoon sun broke through the clouds, casting his tall shadow across the floor—one man caught between love and betrayal, standing alone in the fading light.

And somewhere across the city, Elara sat quietly beside Leviana, gently stroking her daughter’s hair. The girl’s cheek was still bruised, her breathing soft in sleep. Elara stared out the window with empty eyes.

Two hearts in two different places—once intertwined—now burned in the same fire.

A truth that scorched,

and a love that refused to die.