The morning sun filtered through the skyscrapers, casting long shadows across the De León Enterprises building. Inside the CEO's private office, silence reigned—except for the occasional scratch of a pen across paper.
Alexander was known for his discipline. No distractions. No emotions. Nothing that could pull him away from efficiency.
And yet…
That name.
Elira Caelum.
It lingered in his mind like an unsolved equation.
He flipped the folder open again. Her employee profile stared back at him—smiling, professional, unbothered.
She was not the first employee to remind him of Solana.
But she was the only one who ever claimed to be her.
Alexander scoffed, shaking his head.
It was nonsense. A woman showing up two years ago, walking into his life with confidence and saying the most ridiculous words he'd ever heard—
"I'm your wife. I came back to you."
He had her escorted out of the hotel lobby before she could say another word.
So why now? Why here?
He closed the folder and stood up, moving toward the large windows behind his desk. The city looked distant, dreamlike. It was the same skyline Solana once loved to paint on the rooftop when she was still in college. That memory came uninvited.
And then—
That scent.
He turned sharply.
Vanilla and jasmine.
Soft. Familiar.
It was impossible.
---
Downstairs in the creative department, Elira stood beside Yssa during their coffee break. Her heart was racing from being so close to him again. She hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed on day one.
"I still can't believe you're on the luxury campaign team," Yssa whispered excitedly. "Directly reporting to the CEO! What kind of cosmic karma did you cash in?"
Elira offered a small smile. "Maybe... it's fate."
Yssa blinked at her. "You say the weirdest stuff sometimes. But it's poetic. I love it."
A voice called from the hallway.
"Elira Caelum, the CEO would like to meet with you. Now."
Yssa gasped. "Oh my God. Already?! What did you do?"
"I don't know," Elira said honestly, trying not to panic.
---
When she entered his office, Alexander didn't look up right away.
"Sit," he said simply.
Elira obeyed without a word.
He closed the folder slowly. Then he looked at her—really looked.
Her skin. Her eyes. The way she sat, composed but not afraid. It was eerie.
"Elira," he said carefully, "we've met before, haven't we?"
She smiled faintly. "Yes. Two years ago. You didn't believe me."
His expression darkened slightly. "You claimed to be someone who is... impossible to be."
"I stopped saying it," she said gently. "Because I realized... love doesn't need proof. It needs time."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You speak like you know me."
"I do."
Silence.
She didn't push further. Didn't beg for belief. That confused him more than her words ever could.
Alexander leaned back. "Your résumé is impressive. You're clearly skilled. But understand one thing: I won't tolerate personal agendas in my company. Keep things professional, Miss Caelum."
"I understand."
He expected her to flinch. She didn't.
He stared at her again. Something about her composure… it was exactly like Solana's when she knew he was watching her from across a room.
This wasn't going to be simple.
---
Later that evening, at home, Aria was flipping through an old photo album when she stopped on a picture of their mom—Solana—smiling on her hospital bed, one hand cradling two swaddled babies.
Aiden walked past with a soda in hand. "Why the nostalgia trip?"
"I don't know," Aria whispered. "I just... keep thinking about her lately. Do you ever feel like she's around?"
Aiden hesitated, then sat beside her.
"I dream about her sometimes. Not as a mom, but... as a woman. Like I see her somewhere I've never been."
"Me too." Aria leaned on his shoulder. "Maybe it's just because we're getting older. Missing her more."
"Maybe."
Or maybe, Aiden thought silently, something was about to change.
---
The next day, Elira was late arriving to the office. The taxi got stuck behind a truck, and then rain began to fall again—soaking the streets and coating the windows with tiny rivers.
She ran inside, breathless, hair damp.
Jacob raised a brow from his desk outside the CEO's office. "First week. Don't make being late a habit."
"I won't," she said sincerely, clutching her portfolio.
Inside, Alexander had already begun reviewing notes. When she knocked and entered, he barely acknowledged her.
"Sit," he said again.
She obeyed, and handed him the layout proposal. As he glanced through it, she watched him closely. Every blink. Every slight movement of his hand. She remembered those hands holding hers when she gave birth. Remembered the way he kissed her forehead when he thought she was asleep.
He paused suddenly. "Did you... draw this sketch yourself?"
"Yes."
His tone shifted slightly. "This style... I've seen it before."
Elira's heart caught in her throat. "Maybe you're just remembering something."
Alexander said nothing. Just stared at the paper. His mind drifted back to Solana sketching by candlelight when she was sick in the hospital—drawing her dreams of fashion and perfume ads.
No. It couldn't be.
"I want you to present this at tomorrow's meeting. With the board."
Her eyes widened. "Me? I just started—"
"You drew it. You'll defend it."
She bit back a smile. "Yes, sir."
---
Later that afternoon, Jacob pulled Alexander aside.
"She's very capable, sir."
"I know," Alexander said quietly.
"But there's something else, isn't there?"
Alexander didn't answer.
Because for the first time in over two decades, something had shifted.
Not just in his mind.
But in his heart.
He was beginning to feel again.
And it terrified him.
---
End of Chapter 2