chapter 10

Aurora laughed softly as Damien pulled her closer on the couch. for the first time in years, Damien felt genuinely at peace. Aurora rested comfortably against his shoulder, scrolling through old photos on her phone, until she held the screen up to him.

"Look at this one."

He glanced down. It was a photo from their teenage years. Aurora was grinning at the camera while a younger version of him stood beside her looking thoroughly unamused.

"You always had terrible timing with cameras," he said.

Aurora gasped. "I looked adorable."

"You still do."

Her cheeks went pink before she could think of a response. Then footsteps approached from the hallway, and Diana Vance walked in carrying her morning coffee. The moment she saw them sitting together, quiet satisfaction crossed her face.

"Good morning, Aunt Diana," Aurora said, sitting up straighter.

Diana smiled and settled into the armchair across from them, her eyes moving between the two of them with something close to approval. "You know, this house finally feels like itself again," she said, her voice carrying all the meaning she intended. "For years it felt cold." She didn't elaborate, but nobody needed her to.

Aurora glanced at Damien. When he said nothing, she let herself feel the small warmth of it.

Diana set her coffee down. "So, when exactly are you planning to announce the engagement?"

Aurora nearly choked. "Aunt Diana...."

"What?" The older woman looked completely unbothered. "I'm only saying what everyone is already thinking."

Aurora turned to Damien, her heart moving faster than she wanted it to. She had spent years imagining exactly this kind of moment.

"I haven't decided yet," Damien said, calm as ever.

Diana nodded as though that was perfectly acceptable. "Just don't take too long. A woman can only be patient for so many years." Then she added, almost to herself, "Frankly, I never understood why your grandmother pushed for that marriage in the first place. Damien wasted three years with the wrong woman when the right one was right in front of him."

Under the blanket, Aurora reached over and quietly laced her fingers through Damien's. He squeezed her hand without looking up, a small and unhurried gesture, but it was enough to fill her chest with warmth. Diana noticed, and the smile she'd been holding back finally appeared. Everything, at last, was falling into place.

A servant entered just then, carrying a gold-trimmed envelope. "Young Master—this arrived a few minutes ago."

Damien took it and opened it without much interest, then went still. His eyes sharpened as he read.

"What is it?" Aurora asked.

"An invitation. The American Companies Conference."

Diana's attention sharpened immediately. The conference was one of the most prestigious business gatherings in the country—every major corporation would be there, and this year carried extra weight. A diplomatic representative was to be selected to represent American companies on an international stage, a position that came with considerable influence and reach.

Aurora leaned in to look. "Are you going?"

Damien scanned the list of attendees: senior industry figures, key investors, government officials. Normally he would have passed something like this along to one of his team. But something in him shifted as he read the names.

"Yes," he said. "I'll be there."

Aurora's face lit up. "Then so will I."

Diana laughed. "Obviously."

Damien looked at Aurora sideways, a flicker of amusement in his expression. "I don't remember inviting you."

She pouted. "You wouldn't dare go without me."

"No," he admitted, a low chuckle in his voice. "I probably wouldn't."

Diana watched them quietly from across the room, satisfied. Everything was moving exactly as she'd hoped.

**********************

Maureen stood in front of the mirror in her room at the Ashford estate, studying her reflection for a long moment. The woman looking back at her felt unfamiliar, but not in an unsettling way—it was more that she'd almost forgotten what she actually looked like. The navy-blue business suit fit cleanly: sharp shoulders, tailored waist, exactly the kind of thing she used to wear without thinking. Her dark hair fell neatly past her shoulders, and the small diamond earrings she'd chosen caught the light at the right angle.

For three years she had been Selene—a woman who wore plain clothes and cooked dinner and waited for a husband who never truly looked at her. That version of herself felt far away this morning.

A knock at the door. Michael walked in, took one look at her, and let out a low whistle.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Don't."

"You finally look like yourself again." He was grinning. "The board is going to lose their minds."

She laughed, and was quietly surprised by how natural it sounded.

An hour later, their car pulled up to Ashford Group Headquarters—a towering glass building that rose cleanly against the skyline. Word of their arrival seemed to travel ahead of them, and by the time Maureen stepped into the lobby, the whispers had already started moving through the building.

"Miss Ashford..... Is that her? She's back."

Many of the staff hadn't seen her in years. Others had only heard stories about the COO who vanished without explanation and left a gap that nobody had properly filled. Now she was standing in the lobby in a navy suit, and the looks on their faces were gratifying in a way she hadn't expected.

Michael leaned toward her. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

She looked around the lobby, at all the familiar faces and the ones she didn't recognize yet. "Surprisingly, yes."

The morning moved quickly after that. On the executive floor, department heads lined up to brief her. Meetings ran back to back. Within half an hour she had caught an accounting discrepancy that would have cost the company a significant sum; within the hour after that, she had untangled a logistics problem that had been sitting unresolved for weeks. By lunchtime, the senior staff looked ready to give her a standing ovation.

Michael sat across from her at the end of a strategy session, the pride on his face entirely unguarded. When the last executive filed out, he leaned back in his chair.

"I missed this," he said.

"Missed what?"

"Watching the room figure out you're the smartest person in it."

She was still laughing when the conference room door opened and a voice called from the doorway: "So this is where everyone's been hiding."

Maureen turned. A tall man stood at the entrance, eyes bright, grinning like he'd been waiting years for this exact moment—because he had.

"Ethan."

He crossed the room in a few strides and pulled her into a hug that left no room for argument.

"You absolute runaway," he said into her hair.

Maureen laughed, genuinely and fully. "I can't breathe."

"Good. You earned it." He held on for another few seconds before Michael finally intervened.

"Alright, let her go."

"Not a chance. I waited three years for this."

The three of them settled into easy conversation after that—stories swapping back and forth, old arguments resurfacing and dissolving as quickly as they came. The room felt lighter than it had in years. For the first time since she'd walked back into this city, Maureen felt something that wasn't exhaustion. She just felt happy.

Ethan was midway through an increasingly chaotic story about offending a Singaporean investor at a dinner in Jakarta when Maureen stopped hearing him. A wave of nausea rolled through her without warning, sudden and sharp. The room didn't spin exactly, but something shifted in a way that made her grip the edge of the table.

Michael saw it first. "Maureen?"

She blinked, trying to steady herself, but the nausea was rising fast. She pressed her hand over her mouth, pushed her chair back, and walked quickly toward the private restroom adjoining her office. The door shut firmly behind her.

A moment later, both brothers heard the unmistakable sound of violent retching.

Ethan turned slowly toward Michael. Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to.