Chapter 005: The City I Left. The Faces I Can’t.

Selene's POV

Six years later

The sun cuts through the glass of Berlin’s tallest skyscraper, falling in sharp lines across the boardroom table. Twenty of Europe’s sharpest minds sit in polished suits, their eyes turned toward me.

Selene Quinn.

Not Rowe. Not Ashbourne. Just me.

Finally!

I stood at the head of the conference table, confidently surveying the room, presenting a vision for Aether Consortium’s AI expansion.

“The implementation timeline is set for eighteen months,” I explained, projecting the authority I had developed over the past six years. “With conservative estimates, we’ll have at least a three-year advantage over our closest competitors.”

The room went silent for the three heartbeats after I had finished explaining, then the questioning began.

They were sharp and rapid, intended to slice through pretence and expose vulnerabilities. But I have armoured myself with ambition and the necessity to succeed over the last six years.

"What’s the projected ROI on the neural network expansion?"

"How will you manage regulatory challenges in emerging markets?"

"Can your team scale without compromising data integrity?"

I respond clearly and calmly, my replies landing like a surgeon's scalpel. I had learnt their language—profit margins, quarterly projections, risk management, strategic advantages—phrases that hold weight in these discussions.

Someone finally exclaimed, "That's why she's the next COO."

The applause was brief yet sincere. In the back, Mila wiped away tears, and our eyes connected for a moment. This journey began in Denmark with an admin desk, two unfamiliar languages, and a friend who believed in my potential when I struggled to do so myself.

***

After the meeting, Kairo Thorne approached, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit.

The founder of Aether was notoriously cold; rumours say board members resign just to avoid facing him at quarterly reviews.

But not with me.

Always respectful, calm. A softness others didn't see.

As I sat down in his office, he poured two glasses of water and handed one glass to me.

"You're leading the U.S. expansion from our New York base."

I blinked. “I thought Renata—”

"I did too." His gaze remained steady, unreadable. "Until I watched you build Berlin's division in just eighteen months, turning a struggling office into our most lucrative European base. I trust only one person for that launch. You,"

My heartbeat skipped.

“It’s hard to let you go." He added, while his eyes lingered enough to spark my curiosity.

The weight of his words hung between us, both spoken and unspoken. Kairo has never made his feelings explicit, but sometimes his gaze implied that I might be the solution to challenges he hasn’t voiced.

My phone buzzed instantly, interrupting me and Kairo's conversation. When I checked, it was a reminder message. My kids have an end-of-year school party celebration, and I promised them I would be attending.

“The party,” I muttered, grabbing my bag. “She’ll never forgive me.”

Kairo raised an eyebrow, amused. "You’re going to owe Elia an entire princess apology."

I rush toward the door, laughing lightly despite panicking that I'd be late. "She’ll manage; she’d inherited their father’s flair for drama."

Those words came out faster before I could stop them, and I noticed that his expression changed.

To him, it's no news that I was once married; he was even aware of my children too, but I have never revealed their father's identity.

***

When I arrived at the school party, I was breathless, carrying a hastily bought gift bag. Elia spotted me immediately and adopted her signature sulky pose… Arms crossed, bottom lip jutted out dramatically.

"Mama is always late," she said loudly.

Luca shrugged without looking up from his Rubik’s cube. "She's solving world problems. Just let her be." He said as he hugged me once and walked off.

His easy defence is endearing. My children have learnt to exist in a world where their mother’s career is as significant as bedtime stories. Conference calls occasionally interrupt dinners, but love remains constant.

Post-party, the ice cream chaos ensued. Elia rattled on about her friend's new pet hamster while Luca enquired about the possibility of meteorites becoming diamonds. We did some G****e research together. I teach them how important it is to work together as a family.

Later at night, while I put them to bed…

"Mama?" Elias whispered in the dark. "Do daddies know when their kids miss them?"

The question hit me hard; I wasn't expecting it. I smiled, didn't respond, and pressed a goodnight kiss on her forehead. Some truths are too complicated for a six-year-old to take in.

***

Two days later, the private jet landed in New York City. Kairo had perfectly arranged everything with his characteristic precision: a driver waiting, a child-friendly penthouse, and discreet enrolment of the kids in an elite school.

In the black car driving into Manhattan, I looked up at the orderly built skyline, representing people's drive and ambition. Luca and Elia gazed out of the windows, awestruck by the modern city's sight and bustling atmosphere.

I was quiet until a massive billboard featuring Lucien Ashbourne’s face filled the window. It was for a business campaign, which read: "ASHBOURNE INDUSTRIES: Vision Never Sleeps."

My breath caught. It's been six years of creating careful barriers between my past and present, and he appeared… older, perhaps, more polished, yet unmistakably him.

Luca glanced up from his tablet, calm, with his dark eyes sharp, wiser than his years. "Mama... is Daddy in this city too?"

The question hung, thick in the air. I pulled my trembling hands backward. I didn't respond not because I can’t, but because the truth is both simple and complex.

It was merely a billboard. Just a city. Just

A name I once carried.

So why did my heart remember the sensation of being invisible all over again?