I learned the hard way that love does not protect you.
It only makes you vulnerable.
The morning my past returned was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that feels rehearsed, like the world is holding its breath before something cruel happens.
Sunlight streamed through the glass walls of the conference room at Moore Holdings, casting sharp reflections across the long polished table. Everything was in its place. The documents were neatly stacked. The coffee beside my laptop had gone cold, forgotten.
I was three minutes away from presenting a proposal that could save my company.
Three minutes away from proving I had finally rebuilt my life.
Then the doors opened.
I did not need to look up to know who it was. My body recognized him before my mind did. A chill slid down my spine, slow and familiar, like a warning I had ignored once before.
The room shifted.
The air felt heavier.
My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand as a pair of expensive leather shoes stepped into my line of sight. Black. Perfectly polished. Unhurried.
I raised my head.
Julian Blackwood stood there as if he had never left.
Older. Sharper. More powerful.
And still devastatingly handsome in the way that ruins women who make the mistake of loving him.
Our eyes met.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his gaze. Recognition. Surprise. Then it was gone, replaced by the same cold control that had destroyed me years ago.
My chest tightened.
Of all the men in the world, of all the board members, investors, and rivals who could have walked into that room, it had to be him.
The man who broke me.
The man I never truly escaped.
"Ms Moore," the chairman said, clearing his throat. "This is Mr Blackwood. He will be joining us today."
Joining us.
The words echoed in my head as Julian moved to the empty seat directly across from me.
Across from me.
Not beside. Not at the end of the table. Directly where I could not avoid him.
He sat down slowly, folding his hands as if this was just another meeting. As if he had not once sworn he would never see me again.
As if he had not left me in ruins.
I forced my breathing to remain steady.
Do not react.
Do not give him the satisfaction.
"Please continue," the chairman said.
I stood up, my heels clicking against the marble floor, every step feeling like I was walking toward a past I had buried with my own hands.
The presentation began.
I spoke clearly. Professionally. My voice did not shake, even as Julian watched me with an intensity that burned through my composure.
I refused to look at him.
I refused to remember.
But memories do not ask for permission.
Five years ago, I loved him with everything I had. Trusted him with dreams, with promises, with my heart.
And he had shattered it.
Publicly.
Ruthlessly.
Without remorse.
I finished the presentation to polite applause.
The chairman smiled. "Excellent work, Ms Moore. Now, Mr Blackwood has something to add."
My stomach dropped.
Julian stood.
He adjusted his cufflinks slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment. When he spoke, his voice was calm, deep, and dangerously familiar.
"Moore Holdings is bleeding," he said.
The room stilled.
"The numbers look impressive on paper, but the foundation is weak. Without external intervention, this company will not survive the next fiscal year."
A murmur spread across the table.
I clenched my jaw.
He turned to me then, finally allowing his gaze to lock onto mine.
"And that intervention," he continued, "is why I am here."
The chairman leaned forward. "You are interested in acquisition?"
Julian smiled.
Not kindly.
"Control," he corrected.
The meeting ended shortly after.
Too quickly.
Too abruptly.
People filed out, voices low, tension thick in the air. I gathered my files with hands that refused to stop trembling.
I did not look up until the door closed behind the last board member.
The room was silent.
Then Julian spoke.
"You look better than I expected."
I laughed softly, the sound sharp. "You look exactly the same."
He tilted his head slightly. "Liar."
I met his gaze then, anger burning through the fear. "What do you want, Julian?"
He stood, walking toward me with the same confidence that had once made me feel safe.
Now it makes my skin crawl.
"I want to save your company," he said.
I scoffed. "You destroy everything you touch."
He stopped inches away from me.
"So do you," he replied quietly.
The words hit harder than I expected.
I turned away, shoving my files into my bag. "If this is some twisted attempt at apology, save it. I am not interested."
"You do not get to walk away this time," he said.
I froze.
Slowly, I faced him again.
"There are terms," he continued. "Conditions."
"Of course there are."
He reached into his jacket and placed a folder on the table between us.
I stared at it.
"Read it," he said.
I did.
My world narrowed to ink and paper.
A marriage contract.
My breath left my lungs in a rush.
I looked up at him, disbelief flooding through me. "You have lost your mind."
"No," he said calmly. "I found it."
"You think I would ever marry you?"
"You will," he replied. "Because without this, Moore Holdings collapses. Your employees lose their jobs. Your legacy dies."
My hands shook as I closed the folder.
"You planned this," I whispered.
"Yes."
"You came back just to hurt me again."
His gaze darkened. "I came back because we are unfinished."
I laughed bitterly. "You broke me."
He stepped closer. "And yet here you are. Still standing."
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
"You do not get to own me," I said.
His voice dropped. "You already signed once."
The room spun.
"What did you say?"
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.
"You were always mine," he murmured. "You just forgot."
I pushed past him, my heart pounding violently as I fled the room.
Behind me, his voice followed, calm and certain.
"You have seven days to decide."
The elevator doors closed.
I slid down against the wall, clutching the contract to my chest as my phone vibrated in my hand.
A message flashed on the screen.
From Julian Blackwood.
You will marry me.
Or you will lose everything.
I stared at the words, my reflection staring back at me on the dark screen.
The man who broke me was back.
And this time, he wanted to be my husband.