Elara,s Pov
Five years.
That was how long it had been since I last saw Killian Rivers. Five years since he walked away from everything we were and never looked back. No goodbye. No explanation. Just silence that echoed louder than any heartbreak ever could.
I told myself I had moved on. I told myself I had outgrown him, outgrown that naïve version of me who once believed love was enough. But that was before I walked into the boardroom this morning and saw him.
Standing tall in a tailored charcoal suit that clung to him like second skin, Killian Rivers looked like sin dressed as success. His presence was magnetic—commanding, cold, untouchable. My breath caught, my heels paused mid-step, and my heart made the mistake of remembering.
He didn't look at me. Not directly. His eyes swept the room like he owned it—and he did. Literally. Rivers International had just finalized the acquisition of Harper & Lane, the fashion firm where I'd worked tirelessly for the past two years.
The same company I'd finally felt safe in. Finally started to rebuild.
Now, it belonged to him. And so, in some twisted, cruel twist of fate, so did my job.
"Good morning," his voice came, deep and smooth, a tone that used to read me poetry in the dark. "I'm Killian Rivers. Starting today, I'll be overseeing operations personally for the next few months."
He didn't flinch. Didn't stutter. Didn't blink in my direction.
Like I didn't exist.
Like I hadn't once been his everything.
I sat down slowly, careful not to let my emotions crack the professional mask I had spent years building. Around the conference table, my colleagues whispered excitedly. None of them knew. None of them could feel the storm thundering through my chest.
His voice continued, outlining strategies, targets, expansion plans. I heard none of it. All I could hear was the memory of him saying my name like a promise.
Elara.
He used to say it like it was sacred.
Now, he couldn't even say it at all.
The meeting ended. People stood. Laughter filled the room. And I tried to slip away quietly.
"Elara."
I froze.
I hadn't heard him say my name in five years, and yet it still melted down my spine like honey and fire.
I turned slowly, my heart in my throat. He stood a few feet away, unreadable. His jaw tight. His eyes unreadable.
"Can we talk?" he asked. No warmth. Just... cold detachment.
I clenched my fists. "About what?"
He studied me, like he was trying to measure how much of the girl he left behind still lived inside me.
"About work," he said finally.
Of course. Because what else was there?
"Fine."
He gestured for me to follow. I didn't want to, but I did. Not because I owed him anything—but because walking away without hearing him out would feel too much like what he did to me.
We stepped into his new office. Sleek. Modern. Intimidating, like him. The door shut behind me with a soft click, and suddenly, we were alone.
The silence stretched.
"You've done well for yourself," he said, crossing to the window.
I folded my arms. "You have no idea what I've done."
He looked over his shoulder. "You're still the same."
That made me laugh—a sharp, bitter sound. "No. I'm not. You killed the girl you knew, Killian."
He flinched. A flicker—just for a second. But I saw it.
"I had my reasons."
I walked forward, pulse rising. "Then tell me. Right now. Why did you leave?"
He turned fully now, and for the first time, I saw it—pain.
"Because loving you was dangerous," he said. "And I couldn't protect you."
I blinked. "That's it? That's the excuse you're giving me after five years?"
He stepped closer. "I was nineteen, Elara. My life was falling apart. My family was drowning in debt. My father threatened to ruin you to control me. I had to make a choice."
Tears stung my eyes, but I didn't let them fall.
"You could've told me," I whispered.
"I couldn't risk it."
"And now? Why now?"
He exhaled. "Because I built a life where no one controls me. Because I never stopped thinking about you. Because maybe—"
I cut him off. "Don't. Don't come back into my life with unfinished sentences and old regrets."
His eyes darkened. "You think this is easy for me?"
I shook my head. "I think you made a choice. And now, so will I."
I turned to leave. My hand touched the doorknob.
"Elara," he said again, softer this time. "I never stopped loving you."
I paused. But I didn't turn around.
"Then you shouldn't have taught me how to live without you."
And with that, I walked out.
But my heart stayed behind, still aching with the weight of his name.