Chapter 12

 Eliora’s POV

The rain had stopped hours ago, but the city still looked washed out. It was grey, quiet, and unsettled like any moment from now, it would rain again.

From my office window, I could see flashes of reporters hovering near the parking lot, waiting for another headline to feed on.

Don’t they ever get tired?

They chased stories the way I used to chase peace. Stupid.

Mr. Hart cleared his throat softly. “The timing couldn’t be better, Eliora. Your novel has the kind of emotional depth, drama, and tension people crave on screen. If we adapt it, it could silence all those… rumors.”

Rumors. The word curled in my stomach like poison.

Half the world suddenly thought I was buying my way into the industry because a certain billionaire decided to invest in my company.

Pathetic.

I managed a polite smile. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Hart. But I can’t let that story be turned into a movie.”

At least not yet.

His brows lifted. “Then at least consider writing something new for adaptation. The right project could remind people who you are and what you stand for.”

He wasn’t wrong. If I signed *Ashes & Silk* for a movie, I’d be on every headline for weeks.

Still, I shook my head gently. The idea of strangers dissecting that story made my chest tighten. “Let me think about it,” I said, offering a handshake that ended the conversation before my voice could betray me.

When the door clicked shut behind him, silence filled the room thick and heavy, like the calm before a storm.

Clara peeked in, balancing a tray of files. “So… what did he say?”

I leaned back in my chair. “He wants to turn Ashes & Silk into a movie.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? That’s huge, ma’am! Why didn’t you say yes?” A small frown formed on her face.

“Because that story is mine,” I said quietly. “Some things aren’t meant to be sold.”

Some things were already taken from me.

Clara studied me for a moment, then nodded the kind of nod that carried both respect and concern. She left me to my thoughts.

I stared at the half-finished manuscript on my desk, the ink bleeding slightly where my pen had lingered too long.

“Am I avoiding Kian?” The thought came uninvited.

Maybe.

“Why?” I didn’t know. Or maybe I did and just didn’t want to name it.

But it’s for a good reason. He is danger, trouble, and everything that should be avoided at all cost.

Suddenly, flashes of the day we kissed came to mind, making my stomach twist into knots.

I sighed and pushed away from the desk, running a hand through my hair. My reflection in the glass wall looked like someone caught between two lives — the woman who built an empire and the woman still trying to protect the little boy who called her Mommy.

The world doesn’t know Ezra exists. I decided to keep it that way. And honestly, I feel bad about it.

Ezra looks too much like his dad not to be recognized.

I pressed a hand to my chest, as if that could quiet the ache.

I wish things were different — and that’s why I can’t let Kian back into my life.

We would be each other’s downfall.

My gaze drifted to the photo frame beside the lamp… My father, holding a pen, smiling in that quiet, proud way. He used to say stories were how we remembered love when life tried to make us forget it.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t let Ashes & Silk go.

It wasn’t just a novel. It was the last piece of who I was before everything fell apart —before Kian, before the lies, before the secrets that still kept me awake at night.

I exhaled, long and slow. Maybe I needed a break, a few days to breathe, to focus on Ezra, to stop letting ghosts decide my heartbeat.

I reached for my bag when a soft knock sounded at the door.

I froze.

“Come in,” I called, expecting Zoey. We had planned to meet after her shoot.

But it wasn’t her.

The door opened, and there she was the last person I wanted to see.

Tonia Donovan. Elegant. Composed. Just like I remembered.

A faint smile touched her lips, one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Mrs. Donovan,” I breathed, the name tasting like old ash.

She took a slow step inside, her perfume laced with jasmine and power. The scent dragged me back years in a single breath.

“I see you managed to get yourself a lovely office,” she said smoothly, her eyes scanning the room like it was a stage.

And just like that, the calm shattered.