CHAPTER 7 — When The Past Collides With The Present

~ ALISTAIR ~

Liana.

Six years, and not a trace of her had crossed my mind without venom. And now, she casually walked into my territory as though time had never changed what had happened—chin lifted, eyes polished with the same confidence she once weaponized against me.

Every line of her face was familiar, carved deep into my memory, yet the sight of her sparked nothing. No ache. No longing. Not even hate. Just complete silence.

I remembered the way she had discarded me—stripped me down to nothing with a smile, as if love were a debt paid too late. I remembered the nights when rage had kept me awake, when ambition was all I had to dull the sting she left behind. But standing there, watching her move with elegance and sophistication, I realized the wound had long scarred over. Indifference. That was all she summoned now.

She stopped a meter away from my desk, her eyes fixed on me with that gleam of pretense. The day she left me was the same day I realized I had been fooled by her falsity.

“Alistair,” she uttered smoothly.

Her voice shook a little, perhaps testing its power over me. Once, I would have bled for that voice. Now, it was nothing but air.

My gaze slid over her with the same detachment I offered business rivals—measured, and empty of warmth. She had come expecting the ghost of the man she destroyed. Instead, she found someone who had built an empire from the ashes she left behind.

I leaned back in my chair and slowly swiveled it, completely unfazed by her presence.

Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “It’s been a long time.”

“Has it?” My voice came out ice-cold. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Her smile faltered—only slightly, but enough for me to see the crack in her composure. She may have expected anger from me. Perhaps regret. Something to prove she still mattered.

I saw how her hand tightened around her designer bag.

“I… I’m sorry,” she uttered softly, her eyes fixed on mine, so determined.

That made me straighten my back instantly. My expression turned even colder.

Really? After six years, she came back only to apologize?

“Ms. Bennett, my office only entertains billion-dollar projects. Your apology isn’t worth it,” I hit her coldly.

Her eyes darkened, the way they always did when she wasn’t in control.

“You’ve changed,” she whispered, her eyes glistening.

“No,” I said evenly as I leaned back again. “I’ve only stopped wasting my time.”

Her eyes searched mine, desperate to find the warmth that used to be there. “You really feel nothing? After everything we had—”

My patience absolutely snapped. She really dared to mention it in front of me. I had already buried it deep in the ground, and I never wished to revisit that old memory. It would only flare my hatred—not toward her, but toward myself, for being foolish. I never wanted to settle on it anymore—out of respect for what she had once done for me.

“You were a chapter that ended the moment you walked away. I don’t reread discarded pages.” My tone was cold enough to freeze the air around us.

Her face drained of color. “Alistair—”

I lifted a hand, silencing her.

“Leave. I have work to do, and your presence is an inconvenience.” My tone was sharper than any blade.

She just stood there—trembling, and looking broken. But I didn’t spare her another glance. I simply lowered my gaze to the documents before me, already done with her.

The silence pressed heavy until finally, I heard the click of her heels retreating, followed by the soft thud of the door closing.

I set my pen down, staring at the papers without actually seeing them.

If only indifference could erase memory as easily as words erase people.

****

~ ISLA ~

By the time I returned to the Montgomery estate, the mansion was wrapped in silence. It was already past eight in the evening, and I was running on nothing but fatigue. I had four surgeries today. My body felt like it was about to break.

When I entered, Housekeeper Xia was there to greet me.

“Good evening, Madam,” he bowed respectfully.

And I just realized my new life again, the one I seemed to forget for a day. It seemed like my workplace would be the only space I could truly be myself for the next three years.

I released a quiet sigh.

“Good evening, Housekeeper. Is Grandma asleep already?” I asked out of respect for the lady of the house.

“She’s resting early, Madam. What would you like for dinner? I will let the chef prepare it for you.”

I slowly shook my head, offering him a faint smile. “It’s alright. I had dinner at the cafeteria. I want to rest early, too. Thank you, Housekeeper Xia.”

“Of course, Madam,” he bowed again, and I didn’t linger there.

I went straight up to the fourth floor, but when I neared the master bedroom, my steps slowed. It would be another suffocating night.

My movements were cautious as I twisted the doorknob. When the door opened, I was met with silence.

Ah. Thankfully, the devil was still not around.

I hurried and washed up as quickly as I could. After I was done, my body collapsed onto the sofa I had used last night. Sleep came almost immediately.

But my rest was disturbed by something featherlight brushing against my cheek, pulling me back to consciousness. I frowned and opened my eyes—only for my heart to nearly jump out of my chest. Alistair’s face hovered just above mine. His impossibly sharp and handsome features filled my vision, his warm breath grazing my skin.

I panicked. Without thinking, I shoved at his chest—hard enough to send him off balance. He actually stumbled back and fell onto the carpet with a soft thud.

My eyes widened with shock. How could a man his size fall so easily?

The next thing I heard was his curse as he stood up again. His expression dimmed when his eyes shot back to me. That’s when I noticed the faint flush on his cheeks, the slight haze in his eyes, and the mellow smell of alcohol drifting off him.

He was drunk. And a drunk Alistair Montgomery was a revelation.

He walked slowly toward me with that charismatic smirk. He didn’t look drunk at all.

“You’re bolder than I thought, wife. Throwing your husband to the ground—don’t tell me you enjoyed that?”

My throat went dry—surprised to see this side of him. This was not the ruthless man who terrified all of New York. This version of him was colder in his amusement, dangerous in the way he teased.

“You’re drunk,” I muttered, inching back.

He chuckled low, the sound dark and far too smooth. “Tiring day at the hospital, wasn’t it? Should I… reward you for your hard work?”

My face heated instantly. “Y–you need to rest—”

But before I could finish, he had leaned closer, catching my wrist with surprising steadiness for a drunk man. His eyes glinted, mocking and playful.

“Rest? Hm. You look more awake than I do.”

His breath fanned against my chest, making my heart stutter. A dark mix of mint, whiskey, and sandalwood clung to him—sharp and intoxicating. But his teasing tone was worse than his scent; it unnerved me, rattling me more than his usual icy demeanor.

As his face drew closer to mine, I couldn't control the wild beating of my heart. But he suddenly tensed. He pulled away at the last minute, with a curse under his breath.

A second later, he lurched and the inevitable happened—he threw up, dirtying himself.

I froze in horror.

If this happened in front of other people, Alistair Montgomery’s perfection would be tainted just like that.

He slumped on the sofa after that, wiping his mouth with disgust written all over his face.

“Help me run a bath.”