Chapter Six : Recall!!

LENA'S POV

The next morning, I arrived at Whitmore Enterprises earlier than usual, hoping that immersing myself in work would silence the thoughts that had plagued me all night. It didn’t.

I stood in my office, overlooking the skyline of Hudsonville, the city stretching out before me in a sprawling maze of glass and steel. This empire, built over generations, was mine now. I had inherited it—the power, the responsibility, the expectations.

Well not total inheritance. Let say the rest is for “my husband” after marriage, as dad stated in his will, an attempt to protect his heir and secure his linage.

And yet, despite everything I had achieved, the only thing my family cared about was whether I would marry a man I didn’t love to "secure our legacy."

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

I should have been thinking about today’s board meeting, or the upcoming merger deal that would expand our influence across international markets. Instead, all I could think about was Kian.

I turned away from the window, forcing myself to focus as I sat at my desk. I barely had a moment to compose myself before Clara Hartley walked in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee and an amused expression.

“I come bearing caffeine and common sense,” she said, setting one cup down in front of me before collapsing onto the chair across from my desk.

I shot her a look. “Common sense?”

She smirked. “Yes, because clearly, you lost yours when you claimed to see Kian Davenport last night.”

My fingers tightened around the coffee cup. “I didn’t ‘claim’ to see him, Clara. I did see him.”

“Yeah right. And Kanye west is my dad.”

“Ha…ha.., very funny Trevor Noah.” I muttered, as I lifted the cup to my face and took a long drag of the steamy beverage.

Clara groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Lena, you’re exhausted. You’re overwhelmed. You’re being forced into an arranged marriage with Harlin Cartwright—a man even I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. You’re under a ton of pressure, and your brain is messing with you.”

I shook my head. “No. It wasn’t stress. It wasn’t exhaustion. it was him.”

She took a slow sip of her coffee, then leveled me with a skeptical look. “Alright. Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Kian magically reappeared after five years. That the man who was presumed dead—whom you mourned—just casually showed up at a gala. And then, instead of running to you, instead of explaining where the hell he’s been, he pretended not to know you.”

I exhaled sharply, looking away. “That’s what I don’t understand.”

Clara set her coffee down, leaning forward. “Exactly. Because it doesn’t make sense. Think about it, Lena. You know Kian better than anyone. If he were alive, if he had a reason to stay away, don’t you think he would have told you?”

My chest tightened at her words, but I refused to back down.

“I know what I saw.”

She studied me carefully, her expression softening slightly. “Lena…”

I shook my head, unwilling to let her dismiss this as some delusion.

“His eyes, Clara,” I said, my voice quieter now. “They were different, but they were his. He looked at me like… like he recognized me. Even when he denied it.”

Clara let out a breath, rubbing her temple. “Lena. People change. If Kian was alive and didn’t want you to know, then maybe you need to ask yourself why.”

That thought had haunted me all night.

Because if Kian was back—if he had truly survived—then why was he hiding from me?

And more importantly… who was he now?

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment before running a hand through my hair.

“I know it sounds crazy,” I admitted. “But I can’t ignore this. I can’t just pretend like I didn’t see him.”

Clara sighed. “Lena, you’ve been through a lot. And I get it, I really do. But what if this is your mind playing tricks on you? What if your subconscious is just desperate to find a way out of this marriage situation?”

I scoffed. “I don’t need Kian’s ghost to know I don’t want to marry Harlin Cartwright.”

Clara smirked. “Fair point.”

A mockery smile appeared beside my lips.

I glanced out the window again, my thoughts refusing to settle.

Maybe Clara was right. Maybe the pressure, the stress, the weight of my family’s expectations had finally cracked something in me.

But no.

This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t some grief-induced hallucination.

I had spent five years wishing, hoping, praying for Kian to come back. And now, when I finally saw him again, I was supposed to just forget it?

Not a chance.

Clara watched me carefully, as if weighing whether to push further. Eventually, she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Well,” she said, “if you’re really convinced, then what’s your plan?”

I exhaled. “First, I have to find him. And then? I get my answers.”

Clara shook her head with a sigh. “You’re impossible.”

I offered a small, wry smile. “You wouldn’t be friends with me if I weren’t.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s true.”

The moment of levity was brief, but I was grateful for it.

Because deep down, I knew one thing for certain.

This Wasn't Over. Not Even Close.

As the conversation drifted to work, I forced myself to focus.

The day passed in a blur of meetings, emails, and corporate negotiations, but underneath it all, my mind remained fixated on Kian.

I kept replaying last night over and over.

The way he moved. The way he looked at me. The way he denied everything yet still watched me like he was waiting for something.

It didn’t feel like rejection. It felt like a test.

And if Kian thought I was just going to walk away…

He was wrong.

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

As the sun began setting, I sat in my office, staring at the file in front of me. My assistant had handed it to me earlier, a detailed report on an upcoming deal. But I hadn’t read a single word.

My mind was elsewhere.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

Clara peeked inside. “Hey. Long day?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “You could say that.”

She stepped in, setting a bottle of whiskey on my desk. “Figured you could use this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Drinking in the office? Scandalous.”

She grinned. “Desperate times.”

I let out a breath, picking up the bottle and studying it for a moment.

Then, setting it aside, I met her gaze. “Clara… if you were in my position, what would you do?”

She considered me carefully. “Honestly?”

I nodded.

She sighed. “I’d want to believe it. I’d want to chase him down, demand answers, make him admit the truth. But I’d also be terrified.”

I swallowed. “Of what?”

“That maybe the Kian you’re looking for doesn’t exist anymore.”

The words settled deep in my chest, heavier than I wanted to admit.

I forced a small smile. “Then I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Clara exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re going to do whatever you want, aren’t you?”

I smirked. “Always.”

She laughed. “Well, just… be careful, okay?”

I nodded, but we both knew I wasn’t going to be careful.

I was going to find him.

And I was going to get the answers I deserved.

Even if they destroyed me.