Chapter 5

Nadia 

Pain was the first thing that returned to me, and not the darkness I had expected to remain in forever.

My breathing was uneven, shallow at first, then deeper as if my body was reminding me of how to stay alive. I laid still, with my eyes closed, trying to understand why I could feel anything at all when I clearly remembered the moment everything had ended.

I remembered the road, the sound, and the impact.

I remembered dying.

I forced my eyes open, slowly, and carefully, as if I was afraid that the world would disappear again if I moved too quickly.

The ceiling came into view first. 

It was my ceiling.

A breath caught in my throat as I felt  confused and my chest tightened. “No,” I said under my breath. “No, this is wrong.”

I began to push myself up, but before I could fully move, something cold and sudden hit my face. I gasped sharply, my body jerking upright as a scream tore from my throat.

“What is wrong with you?” Isabella’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and impatient.

I blinked rapidly, with water dripping down my cheeks as my vision cleared. 

Isabella stood in front of me, holding an empty glass, her expression filled with irritation. Lucas stood behind her, leaning against the wall, watching me with clear disinterest.

My heart began to race again, but this time it was not fear of dying. It was something else.

Recognition.

“You poured water on me,” I said slowly, my voice shaking as I stared at her.

“Obviously,” Isabella replied, rolling her eyes. “You would not wake up. We have been calling you, and you just kept lying there like something was wrong with you.”

Lucas let out a short laugh. “She looks worse than usual. Were you crying all night again?”

I did not answer him. I was too busy trying to steady my breathing as something in my mind began to fall into place.

This had already happened.

Every word. Every tone. And the exact same expression.

My hands tightened around the sheets. “This morning…” I murmured. “I know this morning.”

“Are you going to keep talking to yourself or are you going to answer me?” Isabella snapped. “Did you finish my assignment?”

Her words hit me with a force that made my stomach drop.

The assignment.

I remembered it clearly now. I remembered sitting up late the night before, forcing myself to complete it for her because she had refused to do it herself. I remembered how she had complained even after I finished it.

“I…” My voice faltered. “Your assignment…”

“Oh my God,” she said, throwing her hands up. “Do not tell me you forgot. What do you even do in this house if you cannot do one simple thing for me?”

Lucas smirked. “She probably just cried and slept. That seems to be all she is good at.”

“You are actually useless,” Isabella added, her tone cold and dismissive. “I knew I should not have relied on you.”

The words settled heavily in the air, but they did not break me the way they once did. Instead, they confirmed what I was beginning to understand.

I had lived this moment before.

Isabella turned toward the door. “Forget it. I will fix it myself. Just do not expect me to ask you for anything again.”

Lucas followed her, shaking his head. “You are seriously pathetic.”

The door closed behind them, leaving the room silent.

I sat there, with my heart pounding, as my thoughts raced. “I died,” I whispered. “I know I died. So how am I here?”

My gaze fell to the bedside table, and I reached for my phone with unsteady hands. “This has to be a dream,” I muttered as the screen lit up. “It has to be.”

But when I saw the date, my breath stopped completely.

It was a year before the day I remembered dying.

“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “That is not possible.”

My chest tightened as the sound of my phone ringing broke through my thoughts. I flinched, staring at the screen.

Eli.

I felt my throat close as memories surfaced. He had called me that day on this exact same day I recalled. Eli had told me that my father had asked to see me that day.

And I had refused him without thinking, and everything had continued exactly as it had until it led me to that road.

“I had told him no and ended the call,” I whispered. “I chose to stay back then.”

The phone kept ringing, but my hand did not move. The fear and confusion that I felt, held me in place as I tried to understand what was happening.

The call ended after a while and silence returned for a brief moment before the phone began to ring again.

It was Eli again.

I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath before answering.

“Nadia?” His voice came through, familiar and cautious. “Are you there?”

“I am here,” I said quietly.

“You sound strange,” he said. “Listen, Dad asked about you again. You should come home. We need to talk.”

He said the exact same words I had expected, and at the exact same moment. But unlike last time, I did not hesitate.

“I will come,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I will come home.”

There was a pause, then a quiet exhale. “Good,” he replied. “That is good.”

When the call ended, I lowered the phone slowly, my fingers still trembling.

“This is real,” I whispered to myself. “I have been given another chance.”

***

The clock on the wall read two in the afternoon, and every tick sounded louder than it should have.

I stood in the center of the office, with my fingers pressed together, fidgeting without control. 

My hands would not stay still, and my breathing felt uneven, as though my body had not settled into this reality yet. 

The room around me was large, polished, and expensive in a way that spoke without trying. Dark wood panels lined the walls, and the long glass windows allowed too much light in, making everything feel exposed.

“I am really here,” I muttered under my breath, my voice low. “This is not a dream.”

My chest tightened as I looked around again. This was my father’s company. This was the place I had walked away from without looking back. I swallowed, my throat dry as the memories pressed in.

At that moment, the door opened and I turned immediately. Eli walked in, dressed in a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. He looked older, sharper, but still the same brother I had known. The moment his eyes met mine, something in his expression softened.

He closed the distance between us quickly and pulled me into a hug.

“I still cannot believe you came,” he said quietly.

My hands hesitated before I hugged him back. “I almost did not,” I admitted.

He pulled away and studied my face. “But you did. That is enough.”

Before I could respond, the door opened again and my  father walked in.

The air shifted instantly. He carried authority without effort, his expression was calm and distant,  as his eyes briefly passed over me. There was no warmth there, no visible reaction, just acknowledgment.

I lowered my gaze, my chest tightening. “I chose to leave all of this,” I thought. “I chose him over my own family.”

Another presence entered behind him and the moment I looked, I froze.

He  stood there, composed, and dressed in a dark suit that fit him as if it had been made for him alone. His posture was relaxed, but his presence filled the room in a quiet way. His face was familiar, and the moment our eyes met, something inside me shifted.

Ronan Callaway.

My brother’s best friend.

The man I had once been engaged to.

The man whose ring I had taken off and returned without hesitation.

“Nadia,” he said, his voice calm.

Hearing my name from him felt strange as I  forced myself to respond. “It has been a while.”

He gave a slight nod. “It has.”

The silence between us was heavy, filled with everything we did not say.

“I walked away from him,” I reminded myself. “I chose a different life.”

My father’s voice broke the moment.

“I did not call you here for small talk,” he said. “This meeting concerns you.”

I straightened slightly, forcing my thoughts into place.

“The board members will arrive shortly,” he added.

We all took our seats.

I sat stiffly, with my hands resting on my lap, while trying to steady the tension building inside me. The doors opened again as the board members entered, their voices low as they settled.

When the meeting began, one of them spoke, his tone formal. “The company we intend to partner with has arrived. The owner is here with his wife.”

I felt a strange feeling settled in my chest. And when the  doors opened my breath stopped as Damian walked in.

And beside him, Simone walked in.

My fingers tightened instantly, and my  legs trembled  beneath the table as recognition hit me fully.

“This day,” I thought, my heart pounding. “This is the day.”

I remembered it now. The car he had brought home on this very night a year ago. The gifts. And the way he had celebrated.

“This deal,” I realized. “This is where it came from.”

Damian’s eyes found mine and the moment it did, he  stopped.

I watched as shock spread across his face, his brows pulling together. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

But before I could answer, my father spoke.

“She is my daughter.”

The room fell silent.

“The heiress to this company,” he continued calmly. “And the one who will decide if this deal proceeds.”