Sunday morning.
Ana was watering the tiny succulents on the window ledge.
Christian was in the kitchen, flipping through some documents.
The quiet between them had finally softened — no longer distance, but something gentler.
Like a river settling after the storm.
Then the intercom buzzed.
Christian looked up.
Ana wiped her hands.
Neither of them expected it.
No deliveries.
No appointments.
"Security says a woman's here asking for Ms. Ana Rae."
Ana blinked.
"Me?"
Christian walked to the screen.
Clicked.
A woman appeared on the small monitor.
Late 40s.
Sharp cheekbones.
Long dark coat.
Not elegant — unapologetic.
She wasn't from his world.
She wasn't trying to be.
"I'll come up. She'll want to see me."
Her tone wasn't arrogant.
Just sure.
🕰️ Moments Later
The elevator door opened.
Ana froze.
Because she knew that face.
Buried deep.
Hidden for years.
Tied to a time before she met Christian.
Before the file.
Before this version of herself existed.
"Hello, Ana."
The woman smiled faintly.
"It's been a while. I wasn't sure you'd remember your father's ex-fiancée."
Christian stood beside Ana, stunned.
But Ana…
She just whispered:
"Clarisse."
And everything inside her body went still.
🧨 The Real Bomb
Clarisse didn't wait.
She stepped into the apartment like someone who had every right to.
And dropped a folder onto the marble counter.
"Your father's in trouble again.
And this time, he used your name to buy time."
Ana's heart punched her ribs.
She opened the folder.
Her name on contracts.
Her forged signature on two loans.
One dated a month before her wedding.
Christian reached for the folder, face darkening.
"Why come here?"
Clarisse answered coolly:
"Because I'm not here to ruin anything.
I'm here to warn her.
Your family's mess will not destroy what she's finally building."
She turned to Ana one last time:
"He used you, darling.
Again.
And if you don't stop him—Christian's not the only one who'll lose you."
Then she walked out.
No theatrics.
No final glance.
Just the echo of someone who once tried to survive the same man Ana was born trusting.
Ana stood frozen.
Christian stepped beside her.
Not as a savior.
Not as a shield.
Just… there.
Ready for whatever truth she needed to speak next.
To be continued…