Chapter 3 ~ A wounded Heart

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It all happened in seconds, but those seconds stretched like a scream caught in the throat.

A burst of white light exploded through the windshield, blinding, sudden, and aggressive.

It hit Nora’s eyes like fire. “Ouch! What the—”

She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, her heart skipping. Her body tensed.

Something was wrong.

The car jerked once, then twice.

It felt like the tires had lost grip. Like the world had tilted enough to wreck everything.

Her eyes flew open.

Liam's hands were locked on the steering wheel. Knuckles white. Jaw clenched. “I can’t see!” he yelled, panic rising.

The high beam from the oncoming car was blinding, casting a harsh light across the road.

There was no time to think. No time to act or even pray for some kind of divine intervention.

Only her motherly instinct took over at that moment.

Nora turned, reaching blindly for the back seat. “Oliver! Charlotte—” The words barely left her mouth before it happened.

Metal screamed. Brakes shrieked.

A force slammed into the rear side of the car like a hammer.

Glass exploded around her, slashing her scalp in fiery lines. The world spun.

She didn’t remember flying—only the landing.

Hard on the ground.

The pavement was cold. Wet. Maybe from the rain. Maybe even from her blood.

She blinked. Once. Twice. The sky was spinning. Through her fading vision, she saw her family.

Liam unbuckled, crawling over the seats, throwing himself over the twins, holding them tight as the car teetered.

“Nora… Nora!” Her phone was still in her hand. Noah’s voice broke through the speaker. “Nora?! Nora, what’s happening—what’s that noise?!”

As if fate was trying to tell her this was the end the guardrail groaned. Then, the car slipped.

Like a nightmare in slow motion, it disappeared, falling over the cliff.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

The only thing she felt at that moment was the wind on her battered face and her heartbeat fading under the weight of grief.

She lay there on the road with broken bones., and a broken soul. Staring into nothing.

Feeling nothing.

Hours later, someone’s arms pulled her close. Warm, the scent.

Noah’s.

The last thing she remembered before finally losing consciousness was the painful look on Noah’s face as he called out her name.

If he hadn’t found her, Nora knew deep in her bones, she wouldn’t have survived. Not the pain. Not the loss.

She would’ve gone with them. And she wanted to.

—

A loud bang snapped her back to reality.

“Nora!”

The room spun.

“Shit!”

Nora jolted upright in her chair. The memory faded away like a whip. Her breath came fast. Her throat was dry. The past still clung like ash on her tongue.

Across the table, Kire Norman—her fifty-nine-year-old secretary—stood with her arms folded and a glare sharp enough to cut stone.

“What the fuck is your problem, Kire?” Nora rasped, pushing her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t angry. Not really. Her voice just came out raw. Because pain like that doesn’t knock, it barges in, like everything else.

Kire didn’t move. She just crossed her arms tightly.

“Watch your language. This is still an office.” Her tone filled with disapproval. “And I’ve been calling your name for thirty minutes. You didn’t respond. I don’t know if you were ignoring me or just didn’t hear.” She paused, squinting. “And since you told me to stop tapping your shoulder—well, how else was I supposed to get your attention?”

She even dared to smile.

That smug, superior little grin that made Nora’s blood boil. Worse—she wasn’t even superior to her.

This bitch...

Nora leaned forward with a low voice. “And you think it’s okay to slam your fist on my desk like that, huh?” Her eyes narrowed. “I think the fact that I respect you because of your age is getting into your damn head.”

Silence.

“If you ever pull shit like this again,” she hissed, “you’re out. Get it?”

“Crystal, ma’am,” Kire replied with a tight, plastic smile that didn’t reach her eyes—just enough insolence to make it personal.

Nora dropped back in her seat with a groan. “So? What do you want?”

“Oh. Mr. Bamford is asking for you.”

She froze.

Noah?

Her heart kicked hard against her ribs. “Wait—what? I thought he was in New York. Or did you mess up his schedule again?”

Kire scoffed. “Of course not, ma’am. I, too, don’t know why he came back early. Just that he’s here. And he asked for you.”

Nora’s fingers brushed over the fabric of her blazer like she needed grounding. Her voice softened. “He’s back?”

A flutter stirred low in her stomach. Not the sweet kind—the dangerous kind.

The kind that reminded her she still felt something.

When she shouldn’t.

Damn it. Be still, heart.

She cleared her throat. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kire walked out, her heels clicking with that stiff, time-is-ticking rhythm.

“That old bitch…” Nora mutters as the door closes.

But why was he back?

His trips normally lasted months. He hated cutting them short, unless something had gone wrong.

But it hadn’t even been two weeks. Not even long enough for her to start pretending she didn’t miss him. Not long enough for her to numb the ache in her chest.

And now, he was back. And asking for her?

Her heart fluttered again, damn traitor.

No matter how many walls she built, he still slipped through.

Still made her hope for his love.

But something wasn’t adding up.

She reached for her phone, ready to call Mira Creed. If anything had gone sideways while Noah was away, Mira would’ve known.

But the screen lit up first—missed calls. A flood of unread messages.

All from Mira.

Nora’s stomach sank as she scanned the texts, each word hitting harder than the last.

What happened? Nora, I tried calling you.

Anyway, I just wanted to confirm if Noah was back home.

He’s a pain in the ass here, and I had to chase him away since he finished his work about a week ago.

Lucian's on a business trip too—I couldn’t handle Noah’s stupidity alone.

I asked him to return to Paris. I’m telling you this just in case you find him in a shitty mood. And he was—when he left.

Nora stared at the screen.

So... that was it?

He came back because Mira couldn’t stand him anymore. Not because he missed her, or because he missed home. Not because she mattered.

Her hand slackened, and the phone slid from her fingers onto the desk. She leaned back, breath shallow.

So all those times he claimed he needed “extra time” for work, all those “longer stays”…

It wasn’t business. It was Mira.

He’d been with her.

A long, quiet sigh slipped from her lips.

She stood up, brushing invisible lint from her skirt like it could tidy the storm inside her.

“What the hell do I have to do for that bastard to finally look at me?” She muttered under her breath.

And with that, she walked out of her office.

The hallway felt colder than usual. Or maybe that was just her heart… learning, once again, how to survive on its own.