2 : The Woman Behind the Headline

Elise’s POV

No.

No, no, no.

I stared at the newspaper as though the headline might disappear if I glared hard enough.

It didn’t.

REOU ALEXANDER MORETTI ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT.

The letters remained perfectly intact, cruelly bold against the paper.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then I flipped the page, as if the truth might be hiding somewhere on the other side.

Perhaps this was an old issue. Perhaps the headline was misleading. Perhaps the journalist had confused Reou with another Moretti.

There were plenty of Morettis in the business world, weren’t there?

Surely, the universe wouldn’t be so heartless as to let me return home after years of longing, only to greet me with the announcement of my first love’s engagement.

I looked at the photograph again.

Black hair. Sharp jaw. Broad shoulders. That infuriatingly composed expression.

Reou Alexander Moretti.

Oh, it was definitely him.

My stomach dropped.

“You’re kidding me,” I whispered.

I quickly scanned the article, my eyes moving over every line.

The announcement had reportedly been made during a private gathering attended by prominent business figures. Sources suggested that the engagement was part of a carefully considered union between two influential families. The wedding was expected to take place in the coming months.

Two influential families.

A union.

An engagement.

The words blurred together.

I searched for the name of his fiancée.

Nothing.

The article mentioned that the identity of the woman had not yet been disclosed to the public. Neither Reou nor his representatives had offered further comment.

Of course.

Of course, the woman had to be a mystery.

Because apparently, my evening hadn’t been humiliating enough.

I pressed the newspaper against the table and paced around the library.

“All right, Elise. Think.”

I pointed a finger at the empty room.

“You’re a perfectly intelligent woman. You graduated with honors. You can solve complicated problems. You can negotiate. You can analyze financial statements. You can—”

Fall in love with an unavailable man, apparently.

I stopped pacing.

“Oh, shut up.”

The silence offered no sympathy.

I returned to the table and examined the article again. Maybe it was an arranged engagement. I knew how his parents operated. They had been planning his life since he was a child, deciding what he should study, how he should behave, and what responsibilities he should accept.

Marriage would hardly be beyond them.

But Reou wasn’t a child anymore.

He was a grown man. A CEO. Someone who had fought against their expectations for years.

Surely, he wouldn’t agree to something as important as marriage without wanting it.

Would he?

I sank into the chair.

A memory surfaced, uninvited and painfully clear.

Reou, perhaps twelve or thirteen, standing in the Moretti family garden while his father reprimanded him for a mistake he had made during a business event. His mother stood nearby, her expression cold, reminding him that he was the only heir and that the family’s future depended on him.

I remembered how he had clenched his jaw, how his hands had curled into fists at his sides.

I remembered wanting to approach him.

And I remembered the way he had looked at me when he caught me watching.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

His voice had been sharp enough to make me freeze.

“Like what?” I had asked.

“Like you feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t—”

“Then stop.”

He had walked away before I could explain.

I had been too young to understand why my concern had angered him so much. All I knew was that I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.

But Reou had never wanted anyone to see him that way.

He would rather be hated than pitied.

And perhaps that was why I had spent so many years trying to understand him. Not because I thought I could fix him, but because I wanted him to know that someone could see his pain without thinking less of him.

Now, after all those years, I had returned with the hope of finally getting close enough to tell him.

Only to discover that another woman might already have that place in his life.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Who are you?” I whispered at the photograph.

Who was the woman who had managed to get close to him?

Was she kind? Intelligent? Beautiful?

Did she know how he took his coffee? Did she understand why he hated being pitied? Had she seen the boy behind the man, or had she fallen for the CEO everyone else admired?

And the worst question of all—

Did he love her?

My chest tightened.

I hated that question most because I didn’t know if I could bear the answer.

A quiet knock interrupted my thoughts.

I nearly dropped the newspaper.

“Miss Elise?”

It was our housekeeper, Mrs. Dela Cruz, standing at the doorway.

“Oh! Yes?”

“Your mother asked me to remind you that it’s getting late. You should get some rest.”

I quickly folded the newspaper.

“Of course. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her gaze shifted to the paper in my hands.

“Ah, you’ve seen the news.”

I froze.

The news?

She knew about it?

I tried to keep my voice casual. “You’ve read this?”

“Of course, dear. It’s been circulating since this morning. Everyone in the household has been talking about it.”

Everyone.

My heart sank a little further.

“And…” I hesitated, hating how desperate I sounded even to myself. “Do you know who the woman is?”

Mrs. Dela Cruz shook her head.

“No one seems to know. The Moretti family has kept everything very private.”

I nodded slowly.

“I see.”

She offered me a sympathetic smile, though I couldn’t tell whether it was because of the engagement or because I looked as if I had just watched my entire future collapse.

“Good night, Miss Elise.”

“Good night.”

When she left, I stared at the closed door.

Then I looked down at the newspaper.

The woman remained nameless.

And somehow, that made everything worse.

Because now my imagination had an entire night to torture me.

I could picture Reou standing beside a beautiful woman, offering her the rare smile I had spent years hoping to see. I could imagine him holding her hand, introducing her to his business associates, and looking at her with the kind of tenderness I had never dared to ask for.

Perhaps she was everything he needed.

Perhaps she was the person who could give him the peace he had never found at home.

Perhaps, for once, his parents had made a decision he actually wanted.

And if that was true, who was I to interfere?

I closed my eyes.

I had come home with a plan to make him fall in love with me.

But love wasn’t a business deal. I couldn’t negotiate for his affection or outsmart my way into his heart. I couldn’t simply decide that because I had loved him longer, I deserved to be chosen.

Reou had the right to choose his own life.

I had always wanted that for him.

Even if his choice wasn’t me.

The thought hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I picked up the newspaper one last time, staring at the photograph of the man who had occupied a corner of my heart for as long as I could remember.

“Please don’t tell me I’m too late,” I whispered.

My phone suddenly vibrated against the table.

I glanced at the screen.

An unfamiliar number.

For a moment, I considered ignoring it. It was late, and I wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone.

But something made me answer.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Then a man’s voice, low and unmistakably familiar, came through the line.

“You’re back.”

My entire body went still.

I knew that voice.

I had imagined hearing it again a thousand times, but never like this. Never while holding a newspaper announcing his engagement.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Reou?”

Another pause.

“Welcome home, Elise.”

My heart practically stopped.

Four years.

Four long years, and those were the first words he had chosen to say to me.

Not I’ve missed you.

Not How have you been?

Just a simple, distant welcome.

I forced myself to breathe.

“Thank you,” I managed. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten I existed.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Of course he had.

I glanced at the newspaper.

“Apparently.”

A silence followed.

Then he spoke again.

“I heard you graduated. Congratulations.”

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my voice.

“Thank you, Reou.”

Another pause.

Then, before I could stop myself, the question escaped.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

I stared at the headline.

“Your engagement.”

The silence that followed was so complete that I could hear my own heartbeat.

For a moment, I thought he had ended the call.

Then Reou exhaled softly.

“Who told you?”

I looked down at the newspaper, my stomach twisting.

“No one had to tell me. It’s in the news.”

He said nothing.

And somehow, his silence frightened me more than any answer could have.

“Reou?” I whispered.

His voice returned, colder this time.

“We should talk.”

My heart sank.

“About the engagement?”

“No.” A pause. “About why you’re really back.”

I stopped breathing.

Because suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about the nameless woman anymore.

I was thinking about the fact that Reou Alexander Moretti, the boy who had spent years avoiding me, somehow suspected that my return was not as innocent as everyone believed.

And if he knew the truth—

My entire plan could be over before it had even begun.