Jane's Pov

Ten years had passed since I left Paris behind and started a new life in Washington with Tate.

Ten years since Paul came into this world.

Five years since Tate surprised me with a jewellery company bearing my name as a birthday gift.

Four years since he told me he loved me—and promised to wait until I healed from the scars Vlad and Annabel left.

Those years had been a mix of joy and pain, but mostly healing. Tate had given me a chance to feel real love for the first time. He embraced Paul as his own from the start, showing me what it meant to be truly cared for, away from the poison of my past.

Compared to Vlad, Tate was on a whole different level—not just in wealth, but in heart. His billions spread across countless ventures, yet his kindness made him richer than money could measure. I often caught him looking at me with a softness that made me smile and feel safe.

That morning, I sat in my room, drying my hair before an important trip. Tate needed me to join a meeting in Paris, to help with an investment until he returned. The thought of going back to Paris after so long stirred a mix of emotions, but I was ready.

A knock interrupted my thoughts. Paul appeared, grinning widely, his icy blue eyes sparkling. He had Vlad’s features but Tate’s spirit. They shared a love for football and chess, and both carried themselves with confident ease.

He stretched out his wrist, showing off a gleaming Rolex. “Uncle Tate gave me this,” he said proudly. “It’s got my name on it.”

I smiled, touched by Tate’s generosity and the joy it brought Paul. “It’s beautiful. Do you like it?”

“Love it!” Paul nodded. “Uncle Tate said we could get matching ones if you want.” His eyes begged playfully.

“I want one just like yours,” I laughed. “But I need to get ready for the meeting. You go eat breakfast downstairs. I’ll join you soon.”

“Okay!” Paul said, turning toward the door but paused. “When I’m back, I’m going to beat Uncle Tate at chess. I promised him!”

Most times, Tate let Paul win, but when Tate won, Paul never gave up, always promising a rematch.

As he left, he peeked back through the door. “Oh, and use your cinnamon oil. It smells nice on you.”

I smiled and finished dressing. This was my first time meeting my Paris team, and I wanted to make a good impression.

After breakfast, Tate’s driver took us to the airport where his private jet waited. The quiet ride was filled with his soft concern.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

I nodded, steady. Going back to Paris after ten years was no longer a burden. I had healed. I was stronger. I was ready.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a tight smile. He nodded, giving me one of those intense looks he always gave. Then he turned toward the window, watching the clouds drift by.

“Remember, I’m here if you need anything,” he said softly, his voice full of comfort.

I nodded. He had always been there for me, quietly steady.

When we landed in Paris, I paused outside to breathe in the crisp air. The meeting with my staff went smoothly. The brand was growing fast, profits rising, and I shared some new designs and upcoming projects.

Afterwards, I headed to Tate’s office to discuss the investment he wanted me to manage. He had an appointment and told me the details before leaving.

As I walked in, the staff greeted me respectfully. Many probably thought I was Tate’s wife since we spent so much time together. I was tempted to let him in fully, but I still guarded my broken heart.

Tate explained, “Nikolai and the managing director are coming. Their company is on the brink of bankruptcy and asked for our help. I want you to lead the meeting, ask questions, and manage the process until they’re stable.”

“So if I see the company won’t survive, I should pull out?” I asked, wanting to be clear.

“Yes. We can’t waste money on a lost cause.”

After a knock, Nikolai entered. I followed him to the meeting room, leaving Tate to his work.

Inside, a strange tension settled over me, wrapping around my chest like a thick rope. My heart pounded harder with every step I took. The long table stretched out before me, filled with faces. Some looked familiar—business partners I had seen in passing, employees who had once smiled politely at me. Others were strangers, staring with curiosity. Everyone stood the moment I walked in, waiting for me to take my seat. I forced my legs to move, walking slowly to the head of the table before sitting down. Only then did they lower themselves back into their seats, the quiet shuffle of chairs filling the room.

Nikolai, the company’s legal advisor, stood to my right. He handed me a thick stack of documents, his face blank like always. My fingers closed around the file, and I pulled it closer, flipping open the cover.

The first page greeted me with bold letters.

“Particulars of Asgarr Company.”

I blinked, my hand tightening on the papers as the color drained from my face. My lips parted slightly, but no words came out. My head shook slowly as denial crept in like an icy wind.

No… this couldn’t be happening.

There was only one Asgarr Company. Only one that mattered in this city.

Vlad’s company.

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. My chest felt too tight, my breath shaky. My eyes stayed locked on the title, refusing to look down at the details. My fingers trembled slightly. Of all companies, why this one? Out of all places, why here?

I was going to oversee Vlad’s business. I was expected to walk into his world, to deal with him, to sit across from him during meetings. I was going to work alongside the man who shattered me.

I sucked in a sharp breath and closed my eyes, fighting hard to bury the storm of emotions rising inside me. Anger, pain, confusion—they all mixed together, choking me. This was supposed to be a new chapter, but instead, I was being dragged straight back to the nightmare I thought I had escaped.

Before I could pull myself together, a voice broke through the tension like a blade slicing through fragile glass.

“Sorry I’m late.”

My eyelids flew open. My whole body went stiff. That voice… that tone… I could never forget it.

I turned my head slowly, my eyes meeting a familiar icy blue stare from across the room. Vlad walked in, tall and sharp as ever. His expression was unreadable, his movements calm, like he owned the room—like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, trapped in a silent battlefield no one else could see.

“Jane?” he whispered, surprise clear in his voice.

I swallowed hard, keeping my feelings locked away. Sitting upright, I cleared my throat.

“You’re late, Mr. Ebony,” I said firmly, raising an eyebrow.

"You will not be attending this meeting, get out!"