Chapter 1
When regret swears a suit .
I never hated you," she whispered. "I just needed you to love me when I was breaking… and you walked away."
David Bennett froze.
The voice was soft—too soft for the sharpness of the words it carried—but it cut through the crowded boardroom like a blade. He looked up from the presentation slides, and his world stilled.
Amira.
Five years.
Five long, cruel, and empty years.
And yet, here she stood—in heels taller than her silence, in a suit more confident than her voice, and with a gaze colder than the night she left.
He had thought he imagined her when her name was mentioned as the incoming Creative Director of the new merger. A cruel coincidence. A ghost. A shadow.
But now... she was here. Real. Breathtaking. Untouchable.
"Amira…" he said, but the name felt too sacred to sit in his mouth.
She didn't flinch. Didn't smile. Didn't blink.
Just like that night.
He remembered it clearly. She had packed her bags in silence. Not a word. Not a tear. Just silence—the kind that screamed. The kind that told a man he had killed something beautiful and couldn't bring it back.
He let her go.
No apology. No fight.
He was proud, broken, and blind.
And now?
Now, she was the woman everyone in the room was applauding. The rising queen of fashion. The phoenix. His ex-wife.
Their eyes locked—hers unreadable, his aching.
"I believe we've all met," she said coolly, turning to the rest of the board. "Shall we begin?"
It was like she'd rehearsed it. Her confidence was a wall. Her poise, a weapon. But behind it, David could still see the cracks… the pain he had put there.
She didn't wear a ring anymore. Neither did he.
But the space it used to occupy on both their hands?
Still burned.
To be continued...