CHAPTER TWO

NATHAN

The Dallas skyline is a relief after the long flight from Boston.

I lean back in my seat and review the itinerary one last time. We’ve meticulously planned every detail, and this grand reopening will be flawless.

Movement prompts me to glance up as the attendant inches closer. “Mr. Grant, we’ll be landing in a few minutes.”

I nod, more to myself than to her, and slip the tablet into my briefcase. This project isn’t just another acquisition; it’s my chance to prove myself, to show my father I’m ready to take the reins and carry on the legacy he built.

The plane touches down, and the engines whine as we taxi to the private hangar. I straighten my tie, the silk smooth beneath my fingers, and stand, stretching my legs. The door opens, and the Texas sun hits me like a wall.

I step out, and a sleek black car waits on the tarmac, the driver standing at attention beside it. “Mr. Grant.”

“How are you?” I ask.

“Fine, sir.”

He opens the back door, and I slide in. He loads my things, and we’re off.

I close my eyes, clearing my mind and focusing on the task. Methodically, I go over each word of my speech, perfecting every line. I’ve done all I can.

The car slows as we approach the renovated building, its glass and steel facade gleaming in the sunlight. I step out, taking in every detail. It’s impressive—a testament to my team’s hard work.

Sharon greets me at the door, iPad in hand, her blonde hair pulled back into its usual tight bun. “Mr. Grant, welcome.” She shifts the iPad and glances at the screen. “Everything is ready for the grand opening. The caterers are setting up in the main hall, and the guests will arrive within the hour.”

I nod, my eyes sweeping the area. “Everything up to our usual standards?”

She nods with confidence. “Of course, sir. I’ve overseen every detail.”

“Perfect.”

I step into the foyer, the marble floors reflecting the chandelier above. It’s flawless, just as I envisioned.

Striding through the building, Sharon keeps pace beside me, rattling off last-minute updates as we move. The main hall is alive with activity—staff hurrying to finish the final touches, floral arrangements being adjusted, the stage prepared for my speech. I take it all in, mentally preparing for any potential hiccups.

And then, I see her.

A woman stands across the room in a sleek black dress, her dark hair swept back into an elegant twist. She’s facing away from me, but something about her posture, the graceful curve of her neck, strikes a chord deep inside me. My heart stutters and my breath catches. It can’t be. It’s not possible.

She turns, and her eyes lock with mine across the crowded room. Amelia.

For a moment, I’m frozen in place, the world around me fading to nothing but her. Memories rush back—how she felt in my arms, the sound of her laughter, the softness of her skin. And then the pain. The betrayal. The emptiness that followed.

I blink, breaking the trance. Reality slams back into place. She’s here, in my building, on the eve of the most poignant moment of my career. Confusion, anger, and something else I don’t dare acknowledge swirl inside me, a chaotic storm.

I shift my focus to Sharon, needing affirmation. “Who is that woman? The one in the black dress by the stage?”

Sharon glances over, following my gaze. “Amelia Sutton. She’s with the event planning company we hired for the grand opening.”

Amelia Sutton. The name lands like a kick to the groin. She’s here. Working for me. A twist of fate, cruel and unrelenting.

I force myself to maintain control. Can’t let her get to me. Can’t let her presence shake me.

Turning back to Sharon, I give a curt nod. “Thanks. Make sure everything stays on track. I need to handle something.”

Her eyes flicker, but she knows better than to ask.

I weave through the crowd toward the woman who once held my heart, only to shatter it into a million pieces.

I’m about to get some answers.