KIAN’S POVThe sun poured in through the windshield as I pulled into the small lot by the corner barbershop. The red, white, and blue pole spun lazily outside, almost like it was lost in time. This part of town wasn’t as fast-paced as Lena’s glass-towered world, but it was honest, grounded. There was something comforting about that. I needed comfort today.It wasn’t like my hair was a mess. Lena had run her fingers through it enough times to say otherwise. But maybe I wanted to do something normal—something that reminded me I was just a guy trying to piece his life back together.The bell chimed softly as I pushed the door open.“Ah, brother! Welcome, welcome,” the barber greeted, his smile stretching across his face like he’d known me for years. He was in his forties, maybe, with a salt-and-pepper beard and eyes that had seen too much but still found ways to smile. “Have a seat. I got you.”I nodded and took the chair.He wrapped the black cape around me, snapping it gently at my nec
KIAN'S POV The late afternoon sun was warm, bathing the street in amber. I’d just left the barbershop, my head lighter, my face cleaner, and my thoughts still echoing Mr. Alcante’s teasing from last night about Lena. It didn’t help that I caught myself grinning like a fool whenever she popped into my mind.I walked down the street, enjoying the hum of life around me, when I saw a little boy hesitating by the edge of the curb. Traffic wasn’t heavy, but enough to worry someone his size."Hey, little man," I called gently. He looked up. Brown curls, oversized jacket, and the kind of wide eyes that held no guile. I knelt a little. "You trying to cross?"He nodded slowly.I extended a hand, helped him cross when the path cleared, and dug into my jacket pocket. By some miracle, I found a wrapped piece of candy—probably something Lena stuffed in there on one of our working lunches."Here you go," I said, handing it to him with a smile. "Sweet for the brave."He beamed, muttered a shy thanks
KIAN'S POV It started with light.Warm and golden, spilling through the trees like honey. I was standing on soft earth, surrounded by whispering leaves. Birds chirped somewhere above, their songs woven into the breeze. It felt familiar, like a place I should’ve known.Then I saw them—Lena and a man.Her father.I knew him before he even turned around. Not from memory—no, my mind still wore its cracks like broken glass—but from the way her shoulders eased when he spoke, the way his hand brushed hers in reassurance. The same shade of fire danced in their eyes, and the bond between them hummed in the air like a current. Father and daughter.She smiled at him. Not the crooked smirk she gave me when she was teasing. No—this one was soft. Grateful. It made my chest ache.I wanted to reach them. Say her name. Ask the questions that clung to the edge of my mind like ivy on stone. But when I moved, my feet stayed rooted. I tried again—nothing.They hadn’t noticed me. The wind picked up, scatt
KIAN’S POV“Where did you find me, Mr. Alcante?”My voice hung in the air, sharp and unwavering.He stood by the window now, his back to me. The moonlight fell across his frame, catching the silver in his hair. For a man who always spoke in steady tones and gave answers like puzzle pieces, he suddenly looked… uncertain.I took a step forward.“You heard me,” I said, softer this time. “No riddles. No delays. Just the truth.”He didn’t move.Instead, he said, “In time, Kian. You’ll remember. That’s how the mind works. It doesn’t take orders—it reveals things when it’s ready.”“That’s not an answer,” I snapped. “You’re not even trying to lie. You’re just hiding it.”Still, he didn’t turn.The room was dim and quiet, except for the faint ticking of the old brass clock on the wall. My breath had calmed, but my heart hadn't. The dream still pulsed behind my eyes—Lena’s face, her father’s gaze, the feeling of falling. The cold that didn’t belong to sleep, but to something real. Something bu
LENA’S POVIt was nearly midnight when my phone rang.I stared at the screen, the contact glowing like a pulse in the dark: Grandfather.My chest tightened. He rarely called—messages, yes; a carefully chosen word dropped through Harlin now and then, definitely. But not a call. Not this late. And not directly.I picked it up on the fourth ring.“Lena.”His voice hadn’t aged a day. Still sharp, low, authoritative. A voice that could cut marble if it wanted to.“Grandfather,” I said, trying to mask the hesitation in my tone. “It’s late.”“I didn’t call to chat about the weather.”Of course not.My hand tightened around the phone. I was already walking toward the windows of my office, the city glittering below in sterile silence. I had stayed late tonight, clearing reports and re-reading old data. But the moment I heard his voice, every spreadsheet and deal felt miles away.“There’s been a noise in the wind,” he continued, slowly. “About a man. A ghost. They’re saying Kiander is alive.”I
LENA'S POVThe water was still, glass-like, except for the gentle ripple trailing behind my fingers.I leaned back, submerged to my shoulders in the heated pool, the pale moonlight splintering on the surface. Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between my fingers, mixing with the rising steam in ghostly patterns.It was quiet here.No meetings. No calls. No sharp voices disguised as guidance. Just silence… and truth.And it hurt.My robe was discarded somewhere on the stone ledge. The cigarette pack lay open beside a half-full glass of scotch. I hadn’t planned to come out here tonight. I hadn’t planned to think. But some truths don’t wait for permission.They claw their way up through the fog, demanding to be heard.I closed my eyes and let myself sink a little deeper, the warm water hugging my collarbones. My other hand, free of the cigarette, drifted in slow arcs beneath the surface—aimless, like me.The truth wouldn’t stop whispering.They were working together.Grandfather and
LENA'S POV I stood by my window, my gaze drifting over the lush green of our family mansion. The late afternoon sun bathed the flowers in gold, casting long shadows that stretched toward the buildings. The magnolias swayed gently, their scent faint but familiar. It was peaceful, deceptively so, like the eye of a storm waiting to unravel.Then, I heard it. "Lena," my name carried through the walls, spoken in a tone that felt like an invocation rather than a call. I straightened, listening carefully. Voices followed—urgent, hushed, and insistent. My mother’s voice. My grandfather’s. They were talking about me. Every since dad’s death, this was my new normal. Everyone seemed to get on my nerves—worse off, seemed to look up to me in expectation , of me, being in my best behaviors at all times. But still, I remained a feminine boss, who wouldn’t take shit. I turned away from the window, my pulse quickening. Something about the way they spoke made my skin prickle. My name was m
LENA'S POV The cold air hit my face as I stepped out of the house, my anger still pulsing like a living thing inside me. My grandfather’s words rang in my ears—his smug certainty, his absolute belief that I would submit to his will. I wouldn’t. I would win this battle. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat and walked briskly down the street, my mind replaying the conversation over and over. The thought of marrying Harlin Cartwright made my stomach turn. A business arrangement, a deal sealed without my consent, as if I were some asset to be traded. Not me. The streets of Hudsonville were mostly quiet, the occasional car passing by, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows. I had no particular destination, only a need to be anywhere but home. I needed to clear my head, drown my resentment in something stronger than rage. And I knew exactly where to go. The Black Rose sat on the edge of downtown, tucked between two aging brick buildings. A neon sign flicker
LENA'S POVThe water was still, glass-like, except for the gentle ripple trailing behind my fingers.I leaned back, submerged to my shoulders in the heated pool, the pale moonlight splintering on the surface. Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between my fingers, mixing with the rising steam in ghostly patterns.It was quiet here.No meetings. No calls. No sharp voices disguised as guidance. Just silence… and truth.And it hurt.My robe was discarded somewhere on the stone ledge. The cigarette pack lay open beside a half-full glass of scotch. I hadn’t planned to come out here tonight. I hadn’t planned to think. But some truths don’t wait for permission.They claw their way up through the fog, demanding to be heard.I closed my eyes and let myself sink a little deeper, the warm water hugging my collarbones. My other hand, free of the cigarette, drifted in slow arcs beneath the surface—aimless, like me.The truth wouldn’t stop whispering.They were working together.Grandfather and
LENA’S POVIt was nearly midnight when my phone rang.I stared at the screen, the contact glowing like a pulse in the dark: Grandfather.My chest tightened. He rarely called—messages, yes; a carefully chosen word dropped through Harlin now and then, definitely. But not a call. Not this late. And not directly.I picked it up on the fourth ring.“Lena.”His voice hadn’t aged a day. Still sharp, low, authoritative. A voice that could cut marble if it wanted to.“Grandfather,” I said, trying to mask the hesitation in my tone. “It’s late.”“I didn’t call to chat about the weather.”Of course not.My hand tightened around the phone. I was already walking toward the windows of my office, the city glittering below in sterile silence. I had stayed late tonight, clearing reports and re-reading old data. But the moment I heard his voice, every spreadsheet and deal felt miles away.“There’s been a noise in the wind,” he continued, slowly. “About a man. A ghost. They’re saying Kiander is alive.”I
KIAN’S POV“Where did you find me, Mr. Alcante?”My voice hung in the air, sharp and unwavering.He stood by the window now, his back to me. The moonlight fell across his frame, catching the silver in his hair. For a man who always spoke in steady tones and gave answers like puzzle pieces, he suddenly looked… uncertain.I took a step forward.“You heard me,” I said, softer this time. “No riddles. No delays. Just the truth.”He didn’t move.Instead, he said, “In time, Kian. You’ll remember. That’s how the mind works. It doesn’t take orders—it reveals things when it’s ready.”“That’s not an answer,” I snapped. “You’re not even trying to lie. You’re just hiding it.”Still, he didn’t turn.The room was dim and quiet, except for the faint ticking of the old brass clock on the wall. My breath had calmed, but my heart hadn't. The dream still pulsed behind my eyes—Lena’s face, her father’s gaze, the feeling of falling. The cold that didn’t belong to sleep, but to something real. Something bu
KIAN'S POV It started with light.Warm and golden, spilling through the trees like honey. I was standing on soft earth, surrounded by whispering leaves. Birds chirped somewhere above, their songs woven into the breeze. It felt familiar, like a place I should’ve known.Then I saw them—Lena and a man.Her father.I knew him before he even turned around. Not from memory—no, my mind still wore its cracks like broken glass—but from the way her shoulders eased when he spoke, the way his hand brushed hers in reassurance. The same shade of fire danced in their eyes, and the bond between them hummed in the air like a current. Father and daughter.She smiled at him. Not the crooked smirk she gave me when she was teasing. No—this one was soft. Grateful. It made my chest ache.I wanted to reach them. Say her name. Ask the questions that clung to the edge of my mind like ivy on stone. But when I moved, my feet stayed rooted. I tried again—nothing.They hadn’t noticed me. The wind picked up, scatt
KIAN'S POV The late afternoon sun was warm, bathing the street in amber. I’d just left the barbershop, my head lighter, my face cleaner, and my thoughts still echoing Mr. Alcante’s teasing from last night about Lena. It didn’t help that I caught myself grinning like a fool whenever she popped into my mind.I walked down the street, enjoying the hum of life around me, when I saw a little boy hesitating by the edge of the curb. Traffic wasn’t heavy, but enough to worry someone his size."Hey, little man," I called gently. He looked up. Brown curls, oversized jacket, and the kind of wide eyes that held no guile. I knelt a little. "You trying to cross?"He nodded slowly.I extended a hand, helped him cross when the path cleared, and dug into my jacket pocket. By some miracle, I found a wrapped piece of candy—probably something Lena stuffed in there on one of our working lunches."Here you go," I said, handing it to him with a smile. "Sweet for the brave."He beamed, muttered a shy thanks
KIAN’S POVThe sun poured in through the windshield as I pulled into the small lot by the corner barbershop. The red, white, and blue pole spun lazily outside, almost like it was lost in time. This part of town wasn’t as fast-paced as Lena’s glass-towered world, but it was honest, grounded. There was something comforting about that. I needed comfort today.It wasn’t like my hair was a mess. Lena had run her fingers through it enough times to say otherwise. But maybe I wanted to do something normal—something that reminded me I was just a guy trying to piece his life back together.The bell chimed softly as I pushed the door open.“Ah, brother! Welcome, welcome,” the barber greeted, his smile stretching across his face like he’d known me for years. He was in his forties, maybe, with a salt-and-pepper beard and eyes that had seen too much but still found ways to smile. “Have a seat. I got you.”I nodded and took the chair.He wrapped the black cape around me, snapping it gently at my nec
LENA'S POV The ride home was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. With Kian, silence somehow felt full. I leaned back in the passenger seat, legs crossed, arms loose in my lap, and watched him from the corner of my eye. The city lights reflected across his jaw, sharp and perfect, as he concentrated on the road. For a man who had once stumbled over every new memory like a foreign language, he now looked terrifyingly in control."You're driving really well," I said, breaking the calm hum of the engine. "When did you even learn how to drive?"Kian kept his eyes on the road but the corner of his mouth twitched up. "My father taught me," he said.The car slowed as we approached a red light, and suddenly, he turned to me. For a full second, neither of us moved or said anything. Just stared. It hit me then—that name, that word: father. Kian hadn’t spoken of him before. Not since the accident. Not since the lost memory. And now, he had.My breath caught in my throat. "Kian," I said softly, "do you
The streets blurred past as Harlin drove like a man possessed. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, breath coming in sharp, furious bursts. He could still see the look on Lena’s face from earlier—the glow in her cheeks, the way her lips curved up when she looked at him. Not at Harlin. At him.Kian.Alive.The man he thought had been dead for five years. The man whose yacht was found in pieces off the coast, whose name had been etched on memorial stones, whose empire had quietly crumbled until Lena took the reins and rebuilt what she could. And now, just like that, he was back. Wearing a suit, walking next to Lena like he hadn’t left behind a storm.Harlin's jaw clenched. The engine roared as he pushed the gas harder. It couldn’t be real. He had watched it happen. He had stood on the edge of the cliff and seen the boat go up in flames.He had made sure of it."But he’s back," he hissed under his breath.He veered into a narrow alley and parked behind the rundown warehous
LENA'S POV The office had that slow, oddly quiet hum it sometimes got on Thursdays—when deadlines weren’t crashing down and the team took longer lunch breaks than usual. Outside my glass office, the rest of the floor was relatively empty, save for a few employees tucked in corners sipping coffee or pretending to work.I stood near the copier, flipping through a stack of draft reports, frustrated at the formatting. For some reason, every third page printed upside down. I muttered under my breath, slapping the side of the machine with more aggression than necessary.“Problem with your loyal assistant?” a familiar voice teased behind me.I didn’t have to turn to know it was Kian.“I swear this thing is cursed,” I replied. “And it hates me.”He leaned against the edge of the table beside me, arms folded, his smirk entirely too smug. “Or maybe you’re just too intimidating. Machines tremble in your presence.”“Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”“Immensely,” he said, chuc