The rain poured down like a long-forgotten memory, coating the city in a sheen of silver. Cars honked in rhythm, tires splashing through puddles, and people hurried under umbrellas. But she stood still.
Aria Collins tilted her face upward, letting the rain kiss her skin. The cold droplets ran down her cheeks like tears—but she wasn't crying. Not anymore. That part of her had died three years ago.
She stood in front of Blackwood Industries—the towering symbol of wealth, power, and the man she had once called husband.
The glass building shimmered against the stormy sky, pristine and cold, just like Elias Blackwood. Her fingers clenched the handle of her umbrella as she stared at the place that had once been both her sanctuary and her prison.
Three years.
Three long, ruthless years since she walked out of his life, tearing the signed divorce papers in half and leaving no trace behind. He hadn't chased her. He hadn't asked why. He probably hadn't cared.
That was fine.
She hadn't come back for him.
But fate—or maybe a cruel sense of irony—had brought her right back to the city she once tried to disappear from. Her startup had just been acquired, and the acquiring company was... Blackwood Industries.
Aria exhaled, steadying her breath. She wore a charcoal-grey suit, tailored to perfection, with heels that clicked against marble floors like authority. Her once long, flowing hair was now shoulder-length and sleek, dyed a richer tone that made her eyes even sharper.
She was no longer the naïve girl who had walked into Elias Blackwood's world hoping for crumbs of affection.
Now, she was a woman who had learned to feed herself.
With one final breath, she stepped through the revolving doors.
Inside the building, the receptionist barely looked up before blinking twice.
"Good morning. Welcome to Blackwood Industries. Do you have an appointment?"
Aria smiled politely. "Aria Collins. I'm here to finalize the acquisition paperwork on behalf of Vireon Tech."
The receptionist typed quickly. A beat later, her eyes widened slightly before she masked her expression. "Yes, of course. Mr. Blackwood will see you in his office on the 47th floor."
Mr. Blackwood.
How strange, she thought, how titles could replace intimacy. Once, she'd whispered his name into the dark. Now, he was just a business transaction.
The elevator chimed open. She stepped in alone.
As the numbers ticked upward, her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored walls—cool, composed, unreadable. But beneath the façade, her heart was not as quiet. It thudded softly, as if unsure whether to ache or laugh.
She wasn't here to stir up old ghosts.
She was here to sign papers, walk out, and return to her son.
Still…
She wondered if he'd changed.
Elias Blackwood stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, a phone in one hand and a tablet in the other.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Immaculately dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt. His hair was tousled just slightly, as if he hadn't bothered to check his reflection this morning. He was always like that—messily perfect, like he didn't need to try.
"Have the legal team vet the new contract again. I don't want surprises." His voice was deep, calm, clipped. He ended the call and turned just as the elevator door slid open.
And then time stopped.
She stepped out.
The sound of her heels echoed against the marble floor of his office.
Aria.
For a second—just a second—he thought he was hallucinating. She looked different. More refined. Sharper. But her eyes… he would recognize those eyes in any crowd, any country, any lifetime.
"Hello, Elias." Her voice was steady. Smooth. Almost like she hadn't once slept beside him.
His breath caught. His features betrayed nothing, but his fingers curled slightly at his sides. "Aria," he said, her name heavier now. "You're… here."
"For business," she said quickly, lifting the folder in her hands. "Vireon Tech's acquisition. I'm their representative."
She didn't smile. Didn't flinch.
God, she was really here.
He gestured stiffly. "Have a seat."
She walked past him, her scent brushing against him like a distant memory. Elias didn't sit immediately. He watched her instead. Every movement was elegant now, controlled.
Three years. No contact. Not even a postcard.
And now she was back.
Professional. Untouchable.
He had been the one to suggest the contract marriage. One year. No attachments. No mess.
She had agreed.
But something about her leaving—without a word, without taking the alimony, without even signing the divorce papers officially—had haunted him.
He'd told himself it was anger.
But now, seeing her like this…
He realized something far more dangerous:
He wasn't over her.
"Let's keep this short," Aria said, flipping through the contract. "I've reviewed the terms. They're acceptable. I've highlighted three areas that require renegotiation, particularly regarding intellectual property rights post-acquisition."
Business. Cold. Unbothered.
He remembered when she used to smile when she spoke to him. When she used to wait by the door at night, hoping he'd come home early. When her voice used to tremble just a little, hoping he'd say something kind.
Now, she didn't hope for anything. That was the difference.
He cleared his throat. "You've changed."
She looked up, eyebrow arching. "I had to."
He had no response.
A long silence stretched between them before she gathered the documents and rose to her feet.
"I've booked a return flight for tonight," she said. "Send the amended contract to my office."
And just like that, she turned to go.
But he couldn't let her walk out—not yet.
"Aria," he said, voice suddenly hoarse. "Wait."
She stopped at the elevator but didn't turn around.
"I just…" He hesitated. "Why didn't you tell me? When you left."
She turned her head slightly, just enough for him to see her profile.
"You didn't ask," she said simply. "And you didn't care."
The elevator opened.
And she disappeared again.
But this time, he felt it deep in his bones—
She was no longer his to ignore.
She was someone he had to chase.