Chapter 2

At forty, Ceynol Tarragon's life bore the marks of success and influence. His name resonated in business circles, a beacon of triumph in a world where fortune eluded many. Yet, for all his accomplishments, a persistent shadow loomed over him—a frustration born not of material lack but of emotional void. A labyrinth of longing gripped his heart, as he sought something, or rather someone, that remained elusive.

Ceynol had devoted much of his adulthood to building an empire. His businesses flourished, reflecting the discipline and determination of a man with clear goals. Yet, amidst boardrooms and balance sheets, he harbored a yearning that could not be satisfied by wealth alone. He searched for the woman who had captured his heart—a love he had long carried but never fulfilled.

As he sat down in his office, a confrontation he had grown tired of enduring interrupted his thoughts. He was reviewing contracts.

"Get out, Lily!" His voice was sharp, laced with finality. "How many times must I tell you? I will not take you back. For years, you have pursued me, but my answer remains the same—you and I are impossible. Period."

His piercing gaze bore into the woman standing before him. Lily had been pushing the limits of his tolerance for years. However, despite her persistent advances, his heart remained impervious to her. Something else consumed his thoughts.

"You're delusional, Ceynol! If she ever comes back, she won't love you anymore. She'll end up with me instead!" Lily's voice trembled with anger, her defiance unwavering.

Ceynol's expression hardened. "That will never happen. Even if she no longer loves me, I will do everything to win her back," he replied coldly.

Lily's eyes flared with anger, and she opened her mouth to retaliate. Before she could speak, Ceynol hurled a pen in her direction—not to harm her but to punctuate his command.

"Leave at once!" His voice echoed through the office, resonating even beyond its walls. "I've made amends for any pain I caused you, and I owe you nothing more. Your so-called love for me was never genuine—it was my wealth you were after!"

Lily's face turned pale, her bravado crumbling under his rage. Ceynol rose from his seat, the tension in his jaw evident as he reached for a chair, ready to throw it if necessary. Terrified, Lily fled, slamming the door behind her.

Left alone, Ceynol rubbed his temples in frustration. His professional life thrived, but his personal world was a storm of turmoil and longing. The question echoed in his mind: How do you find someone who doesn't want to be found?

He had secretly assembled a team to search for her—the woman who haunted his dreams, the one he had lost but never stopped loving, Jade.

Jade's image was seared into his consciousness, an angelic visage that brought equal parts joy and torment. Memories of her smile, her laugh, and the light in her eyes plagued his waking moments and haunted his dreams.

"Leave, Jade," he had once implored her. "You make everything so difficult for me."

But Jade had been resolute. "I won't stop until I make you mine, Ceynol," she declared, her voice firm, her will unyielding.

And yet, there she was again, standing before him in his office, as if summoned by his longing. This time, her presence was different. She wasn't the innocent girl he remembered. She had undergone a transformation, radiating a confidence and allure that left him speechless.

The scarlet halter dress she wore clung to her figure, a vivid reminder of her undeniable beauty. Ceynol's throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his mind warring against his desires.

"Jade, you're tormenting me," he rasped, turning away. "You're too young, too pure for me to corrupt with my desires."

But Jade was undeterred. "You've taught me what love is, Ceynol," she whispered, her voice laced with seduction. "Refraining from adoring me will be impossible—for both of us."

She moved closer, perching herself on his lap, her hips swaying in a rhythm designed to drive him mad. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and she leaned in, her breath warm against his neck.

"Jade, please," he begged, his voice trembling with desperation. "This isn't right."

But Jade ignored his protests. Her lips brushed against his neck, her touch igniting a fire within him that he struggled to control. His body betrayed him, responding to her closeness despite his resolve.

"Think of your father," he gasped, a final plea to her conscience.

"I don't care," she replied, her lips moving closer to his.

It was then that the image of her father—a man he respected, a man who had trusted him—flashed in his mind. With a strength born of sheer will, Ceynol gently but firmly pushed Jade away.

"Please, leave, Jade," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. "I can't do this. I won't betray your father."

Jade stared at him, stunned and hurt. But even in her pain, her determination did not waver. "I'll never stop loving you, Ceynol," she vowed. "And I'll never stop fighting for you."

Ceynol watched her leave, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. The ache in his chest was almost unbearable, but he knew he had done the right thing. Still, the question lingered: Does she still love me after all these years?

He turned to the window, his reflection staring back at him. At forty, he had aged gracefully. His physique remained strong, his hair untouched by gray, his features still striking. However, all of this would be insignificant if he failed to reunite with the one woman who had always held his heart.

For years, he had lived in fear—fear that Jade no longer loved him, fear that he had lost his chance to be with her forever. But fear would no longer hold him back.

"If I ever find her again," he vowed to himself, "I will beg for her love. I will fight for her, no matter the cost. Jade is mine."

And with that, Ceynol Tarragon, a man of power and influence, resolved to reclaim the one thing he had always wanted but never fought for—Jade's heart.