Old Scars, New Wounds

Lucian’s office was cloaked in shadows despite the morning light streaming through the windows. He stood with his back to the sky, fists clenched, jaw locked in a battle between rage and memories of past.

Claire Blackwell entered without knocking.

Of course she didn’t.

Dressed in an ivory Chanel suit, pearls gleaming at her throat, Claire looked more like a monarch than a mother.

She was Regal. Remote, and.Ruthless.

“You should’ve told me she was coming back,” Lucian said coldly, not turning around.

Claire closed the door behind her, her heels barely making a sound on the polished floors. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

Lucian spun to face her. “You knew, didn’t you? That Isla was planning this merger. That she was coming for war.”

Claire arched her brow. “I knew she’d never stay silent forever. But if you’d done your job and had kept her out of your heart to begin with then none of this would’ve happened.”

Lucian’s eyes darkened. “She was my wife.”

“She was just a liability, a mistake” Claire snapped. “You were supposed to protect the Blackwell name. Instead, you fell for a woman who dragged scandal into our family and nearly ruined your standing with the board.”

“She lost our child, Claire.” His voice broke on the last word, painful and bitter. “And you had her sedated while I was away, you signed her out of the hospital like she was some charity case.”

Claire’s face didn’t change. “She was unstable and Hysterical. She needed treatment, not cameras in her face and press sniffing her lioe dogs.”

“She needed me.”

Claire’s lips curled. “She needed to disappear. Did you forget she married you for money? She gave up on the child. She aborted it. She needed to stay away from us and that's what did. Why do you still bother to even think of that gold digger”

Lucian exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “You crossed your line.”

“And you let me,” she said simply. “Because deep down, you knew she was never going to fit in our world. Not into this world. Not into our legacy.”

Silence pulsed between them.

Then Claire stepped closer, voice low and precise. “Let me be clear, Lucian. Isla Montgomery or Wilde, or whatever name she’s wearing now, is not here for business. She’s here to humiliate you. To destroy you from the inside. And if you let her in again, you’ll lose everything you've built.”

Lucian didn’t respond. His mind was elsewhere, back in that boardroom, watching Isla walk away with storm.in her spine and rage in her eyes.

---

Downtown Manhattan. Elan Vogue Headquarters.

Isla swept through her penthouse office like a queen reclaiming her throne. The city buzzed beyond her glass windows, but inside, everything was calm, minimalist, powerful.

Elena, her best friend and CFO, leaned against the doorway. “You’ve got company.”

“Who?”

“Leo Stone. That Investor. He's a big flirt. A man dressed like sin.” Elena smirked. “And he brought you Italian espresso.”

Isla smiled faintly. “Send him in.”

Moments later, Leo walked in with his tall, lean, tousled dark hair and a wicked grin. He was dressed in a navy suit that managed to look both expensive and deliberately careless. Like he never tried too hard as if he didn’t need to.

“Ms. Wilde,” he greeted, setting the coffee down with a wink. “Thought I’d bribe my way onto your schedule.”

“You didn’t have to bring coffee,” Isla said, taking the cup. “But smart move.”

“Flattery and caffeine are my two currencies.”

They moved to the lounge, sitting across from each other on sleek grey leather. Leo’s eyes scanned the office before settling back on her.

“So this is where the empire lives.”

Isla raised a brow. “Why does that sound like a pickup line?”

“Because I’m shameless.” He grinned. “And also impressed by the empire you've built. Incredible.”

She studied him for a moment. “You’re not like the usual investors I meet.”

He leaned in, voice dropping slightly. “Because I’m not just an investor.”

“What else are you?”

Leo’s smile turned enigmatic. “A man who knows how to recognize power and appreciate beauty. And when the two collide…well, I’d be an idiot not to pay attention.”

Isla looked at him for a long moment, then laughed. “What a dangerous combination.”

“You have no idea.”

---

Later That Evening. Blackwell Penthouse.

Lucian sipped scotch alone, the television muted as a news anchor mouthed words he didn’t hear.

“Isla Wilde stuns Wall Street with aggressive Elan Vogue expansion. Sources confirm she’s now partnered with Stone Investments. Merger rumors intensify…”

Lucian’s fingers tightened around the glass.

Leo Stone.

He remembered him. That Slippery, brilliant, manipulative and charming bastard.

And now the same man is too close to Isla.

He poured another drink, the ice clinking like a taunt to him. Isla had every right to move on. To flirt. To play the game. To have a love life.

But Leo?

He wasn’t playing.

He was hunting a prey.

Lucian set the glass down and grabbed his coat.

---

Meanwhile, Blackwell Medical Archives.

Claire’s assistant moved swiftly through the shadows of the private records floor. She wore gloves, her badge flicking green under the scan light. She found the file room, keyed in the code.

Rows of locked drawers greeted her. Confidential records. Every scandal buried, every indiscretion contained.

She located Isla Montgomery’s file. A thick manila folder marked with a red tag.

Inside it were- hospital admission, pregnancy reports, bloodwork, ultrasound scans, discharge notes. A stillbirth record.

She took a photo of one document… then shredded it.

One by one, she fed them into the industrial shredder.

Ultrasounds. Physician notes. Sedation orders.

Every trace of Isla’s hospitalization were now… gone.

The last thing she erased was the video footage of Claire signing the consent forms while Lucian was away on business.

She wiped the flash drive clean and walked out as silently as she came.

Back at her desk, she sent one text to Claire.

DONE.

---

Back to Lucian.

He stood outside Isla’s building, staring up at the lights in her penthouse window. His driver waited, engine running high.

Inside, she was probably laughing with Leo Stone.

Something twisted in Lucian’s chest. It wasn’t jealousy. It was fury. Regret. Possession. Rage.

And something else he couldn’t name.

He didn’t knock. Instead, he turned and walked into the dark,unaware that behind him, someone had started deleting the only remaining proof of everything Isla endured.

What had once been buried in hospital records was now gone, burned, shredded, vanished.

And Isla Wilde had no idea the past she was about to dig up no longer existed.

Not for now.

---