For five years, Lena Whitmore had lived with a broken heart. The love of her life, Kian davenport, had vanished without a trace, leaving with a rumor of being drowned by his competitors. His name, once etched in gold across SimsVille’s skyline, now vanished, as though he wasn't the richest man in Simsville. But Lena never believed he was truly gone. Lena was shocked by the appearance of a stranger, who appears at a high-profile gala, as she believes the strange individual was Kian with forgotten memories, before engaging in series of adventures. Kian returns, changed with no memory of Lena or their love. As she uncovers the truth behind his disappearance, danger looms. Will love prevail, or would the past consume them?
View MoreLena x Kian's POV The days turned into weeks. Then months. Kian kept the secret of Harlin being his brother buried deep inside, where only guilt and time could reach it. He never spoke of that day again—not the ocean, not the fight, not the truth that still weighed heavy on his heart.But life, somehow, moved forward.And in the heart of that quiet momentum, our son was born.**********The morning had started like any other. The sun barely kissed the horizon when Lena gripped my arm, her face twisted in pain.“Kian,” she gasped, breathless, “it’s time.”I didn’t hesitate.Within minutes, we were speeding down the coastal road, my hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Lena groaned beside me, sweat glistening across her forehead. I held her hand when I could, whispering comfort, even when my own nerves were shot.“We’re almost there,” I said again and again. “Just a few more minutes.”When we arrived, nurses whisked her away, and I wasn’t allowed past the delivery doors. I
KIAN'S POV The silence after Harlin’s fall stretched long enough for doubt to slither in. But something gnawed at me—a need to know, to be sure.I climbed carefully down the worn cliffside path, keeping my eyes on the rocky shoreline below. The ocean thundered, angry and endless, but there—caught between jagged stones—was Harlin.He was alive. Barely.Groaning. Bleeding.I scrambled the rest of the way down and knelt beside him.His eyes fluttered open as I turned him on his side, checking his wounds.And that’s when I saw it.The scar.A crooked line just below his collarbone.It wasn’t the scar that chilled me.It was the tattoo inked over it: a faded anchor and the letters KD—Kian Davenport.No one should’ve had that mark but me.I pulled his shirt down further. My breath caught in my throat.The same birthmark. Same shape. Same place.And suddenly, the memories rushed in.************We were in a sunlit room, small hands grasping Lego bricks. He was younger by two years, always
KIAN'S POV The warehouse stood like a dark monolith at the edge of the city’s industrial sector. I’d been here before—in my old life. Before the ocean swallowed me. Before Harlin betrayed me.The air was heavy with rust and smoke as I stepped through the broken side door, heart hammering against my ribs. My hands were clenched into fists. I didn’t bring a weapon. I didn’t need one. Not tonight.Not for this.Inside, five of my core staff—people I had personally hired, people who had helped Lena and I rebuild the empire—were bound at the wrists and ankles, gagged and slumped against steel support beams.And there he was.Harlin.Leaning against a metal table with that smirk. That goddamned smirk I’d once mistaken for charm. He had a crowbar in one hand, twirling it like a toy.“You came,” he said, voice echoing through the warehouse.“I always finish what I start.”He dropped the crowbar with a clang and stepped forward. “You really couldn’t stay dead, could you?”“Neither could you,”
Weeks passed. The threat of Harlin faded into background noise, like an old scar that no longer ached but refused to vanish. Lena and I had moved back into a rhythm. Our lives were marked by laughter, shared meals, boardroom wins, and private evenings full of whispered promises and dreams. But deep down, I knew peace with Harlin was temporary. That morning, Lena had kissed me goodbye before rushing to a board meeting. I stayed back to finalize plans for a new expansion project. Something about the way she touched my hand lingered with me—a nervous energy neither of us addressed. The sky had turned gray by noon. A dense humidity hung in the air like something waiting to fall. I was driving through a quiet back road on the edge of Hudsonville, a shortcut I’d taken dozens of times, when I noticed the black SUV in my rearview mirror. No plates. I eased my foot off the gas. The SUV sped up. By the time I reached the next turn, it was already beside me. BAM! The SUV rammed into t
KIAN'S POV The day after our visit to the hilltop, Lena and I decided it was time to get proper medical checkups. After everything—the beatings, the adrenaline, the close calls—we owed our bodies some peace.The hospital sat on the quieter edge of the city, with white-washed walls, green courtyards, and clean halls that smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender. The staff recognized us, a few even whispering about "Mr. Kiander" and "Ms. Whitmore" as we walked in. We ignored it, hand in hand, tired but together.They took Lena in first for her diagnosis. She had been complaining of sharp stomach cramps and a recurring migraine since the previous day. I waited in the hallway, pacing slowly.When she returned, her face was unreadable."Everything alright?" I asked, immediately at her side.She nodded slowly. "Stress, fatigue, mild dehydration. Nothing too alarming."I exhaled in relief.Then it was my turn."We’ll be giving you a tension-relief massage along with your vitals, sir," the
KIAN'S POV The day after our visit to the hilltop, Lena and I decided it was time to get proper medical checkups. After everything—the beatings, the adrenaline, the close calls—we owed our bodies some peace.The hospital sat on the quieter edge of the city, with white-washed walls, green courtyards, and clean halls that smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender. The staff recognized us, a few even whispering about "Mr. Kiander" and "Ms. Whitmore" as we walked in. We ignored it, hand in hand, tired but together.They took Lena in first for her diagnosis. She had been complaining of sharp stomach cramps and a recurring migraine since the previous day. I waited in the hallway, pacing slowly.When she returned, her face was unreadable."Everything alright?" I asked, immediately at her side.She nodded slowly. "Stress, fatigue, mild dehydration. Nothing too alarming."I exhaled in relief.Then it was my turn."We’ll be giving you a tension-relief massage along with your vitals, sir," the
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