CHAPTER EIGHT

SELENE’s POV

Four years ago, Serena Vale died on a stormy bridge in this same city. Tonight, she arrived back, not as Serena Vale, but as Selene Arden, the powerful billionaire businesswoman everyone can’t stop talking about.

The private jet landed quietly against the dark runway while the city lights stretched endlessly beyond the glass. I sat still in my seat long after the aircraft stopped moving, my fingers resting lightly against the leather armrest.

“Miss Arden,” my assistant said carefully. “The cars are ready.”

I lifted my eyes toward the window, the city still looked exactly the same.

Four years ago, I left this city broken, bleeding, and drowning beneath cold ocean water while the people I trusted continued their lives without me.

Now I was returning richer and more powerful than most of them combined, it’s funny how life worked.

I stood slowly, smoothen down the sleeve of my black coat before stepping off the jet. The late evening cold air brushed against my skin as I stepped out, lifting the loose waves of dark hair resting against my shoulders.

Media cameras flashed somewhere beyond the private gates, reporters already waiting despite the late hour. News travelled fast when Selene Arden enters a country, especially this.

Three black vehicles waited near the runway including a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, while security teams moved around quietly, guarding my movements and keeping the reporters at a distance.

Now, I command utmost respect without barely trying, nobody dare speak to me casually, nobody dare look at me with pity either, and I love it that way.

My heels clicked softly against the pavement as I entered the black Rolls-Royce Phantom. Marcus, my driver, shut the door behind me before moving toward the front seat, my assistant sat beside Marcus in the front seat.

“We’ll arrive at Arden Tower in twenty minutes,” Marcus informed me.

I nodded once before looking outside again. The city skyline still carried the same arrogance I remembered, tall buildings and luxury lights at both sides of the road, the illusion that powerful people never suffered consequences and lesser voices can be trampled upon.

A faint vibration pulled my attention downward. I glanced at the screen of the tablet resting beside me.

LAURENT GROUP CELEBRATES FOURTH CONSECUTIVE YEAR OF GLOBAL EXPANSION.

Below the headline sat a photograph of Adrian Laurent and beside him was Celeste Laurent, not Whitmore anymore.

I smiled faintly as my gaze lingered on the picture a few seconds longer than I intended. Adrian looked a bit different now, even his smile looked controlled, like something practiced for cameras instead of felt naturally.

Celeste stood beside him in the picture in a silver shiny gown, elegant and polished exactly like thr society expected. I heard people around the elite circle now call them:

The perfect billionaire couple.

I stared at the image for a second longer before locking the screen.

It’s four years since the ocean swallowed Serena Vale whole while the rest of the world moved forward effortlessly.

I should have felt rage staring at his image but I felt nothing instead. Selene Arden is a woman void of emotions, I carry this emptiness inside me that frightened me sometimes.

“You have the Whitmore Foundation gala tomorrow night,” my assistant reminded me from the front seat. “Most of the city’s elite families will be there.”

“Okay,” I replied.

The thought of seeing Adrian at the gala almost made me laugh. Life is glaringly ironic.

The car finally entered the city fully while familiar streets passed outside the tinted windows. Small fragments of memory kept surfacing unwillingly inside my head.

A restaurant Adrian once took me to. The bookstore Ava loved dragging me into.

Then an image of a young boy crept into my head as we passed by a hospital building, the same boy I saw myself with in the picture Leonard showed me four years ago. Leonard had told me that he was my son but somehow, his memories are being omitted from my brain.

It’s still weird to me how I could remember every other people, Adrian, Victoria, Celeste, Ava and even my favorite places but somehow my brain omitted memories of my own son.

I was always met with blank memories whenever I tried to remember him, and that hurts me so much. How could a mother not remember her own child?

Doctors blame the head injury, they said it triggered Traumatic Brain Injury, and it will heal with time.

The vehicle eventually slowed before a massive glass tower overlooking the city. Arden Tower. My home now.

Security opened the gates immediately as we pulled inside. The driver pulled over in front of the gigantic building, my assistant rushed to open the door of the car for me to step out, assisting with my phones and bag.

I glanced at the environment for a moment, the scent of the night breeze coupled with the scent from the flowers beautifully planted round the big compound made my mind feel so peaceful as I walked towards the building.

The lobby alone looked larger than the entire apartment Adrian and I once shared years ago. The marble floors reflected golden lights overhead while staff members straightened instantly the moment I entered.

“Welcome back, Miss Arden.”

I barely acknowledged them as I stepped into the private elevator. By the time I entered the penthouse suite upstairs, my body was already drained from exhaustion.

The entire space overlooked the city through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, everything inside screamed luxury without trying too hard.

Leonard stood near the bar when I walked in.

“You’re finally back,” he said calmly.

I removed my gloves slowly. “You sound surprised.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “You delayed this trip three times.”

“I had business,” I argued.

“You had hesitation.”

My eyes lifted toward him, Leonard Arden always noticed too much. His calm and controlled expression still remained the same after all these years. Power radiated from him silently and that was what made him dangerous.

“I’m here now,” I replied simply.

Leonard poured a drink before sliding the glass toward me. “And tomorrow night, the entire city will know it.”

I accepted the glass without drinking from it, staring at the golden liquid dangling in the glass.

There was a brief pause, then Leonard spoke again. “The Laurent Group will attend the gala.”

There it was right there, the real reason for this conversation.

I leaned back slightly. “I assumed they would.”

His gaze studied me carefully. “Are you prepared for that?”

Prepared is such an interesting word. Was anyone ever truly prepared to face the people who buried them?

“I didn’t return for emotional closure,” I said evenly.

“No,” Leonard agreed quietly. “You returned for answers.”

My expression went placid because that part was true.The accident I was involved in four years ago never made sense to me and somebody made sure evidences disappeared afterward. I spent four years rebuilding myself while those questions kept growing louder inside my head.

Leonard walked closer slowly. “You should remember something before tomorrow night.”

I looked at him.

“People like Adrian Laurent survive because they understand power,” he said calmly. “Emotion makes people careless. Never allow yourself to become careless again,” he added

I held his gaze for several seconds before answering quietly.

“I won’t.”

But deep inside, I wasn’t fully sure if that was true.