Chapter Four: Terms of Collision
The rain had started lightly, but by the time Elena stepped out of the Sutton Foundation building, it was a full downpour. She didn’t run. Let the water soak her. Let it wash the city off her skin. Maybe even the ghosts.
But the ghosts clung tighter in the rain.
She climbed into the back seat of her Uber, gave the driver the address to her hotel, then changed it mid-drive.
“To Sutton Tower.”
The driver glanced at her through the mirror. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I am now.”
---
Kian wasn’t expecting her. But when the intercom buzzed and her name appeared on the screen, he didn’t hesitate.
He opened the doors.
Minutes later, she stood in his private living room, soaked through and silent. Her trench coat clung to her skin. She didn’t bother to remove it.
“I didn’t come to fight,” she said.
“Good,” Kian replied. “Because I’m too tired to win.”
She almost smiled. Almost.
He gestured to the couch. She sat. He poured two drinks.
“So this is what we do now?” she asked, taking the glass. “Pretend we’re civilized exes?”
“We’re not exes.”
She blinked.
“You never signed the annulment. And I never filed it.”
She sipped slowly. “Why?”
He didn’t answer. Not directly.
Instead, he asked, “Did you ever plan on coming back?”
“No,” she said honestly. “Not until I had a reason.”
“And now?”
“I’m here because I need answers. About my mother. About the Foundation. About Evelyn.”
Kian’s eyes darkened. “Be careful where you dig.”
“I’m done being careful,” she said.
---
Across the city, Evelyn Sutton entered her study and shut the door behind her. Her assistant waited inside.
“She’s requesting documents. From 2008.”
Evelyn poured herself a scotch. “So the little heiress thinks she’s clever.”
“What do you want to do?”
Evelyn smiled thinly. “The same thing we did last time someone got too curious.”
“And Kian?”
Her smile faded. “He’s already slipping. If we wait long enough… he’ll push her away himself.”
---
Back at Sutton Tower, Elena leaned forward.
“Kian… do you believe my mother was murdered?”
He didn’t blink. “I believe she didn’t die by accident.”
The silence between them swelled.
And in that silence, something broke free.
She reached for his hand. Not out of longing—but from sheer instinct. From the bond that had always existed, long before she could define it.
And he didn’t pull away.
“Do you trust me?” she whispered.
He looked at her, eyes unreadable. “I trust the girl I married. I don’t know this woman yet.”
She didn’t flinch. “Then let me reintroduce her.”
He raised a brow. “You’re not scared of what you’ll find?”
“I’m more scared of never knowing.”
She let go of his hand. “But I need one thing from you.”
“What?”
“Don’t protect me. Not from this. Not anymore.”
His mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile. “That might be the hardest thing you’ve ever asked.”
“Do it anyway.”
---
By the time she left, the storm had slowed. Kian watched her walk to the elevator, water dripping from her coat, shoulders straighter than before.
He didn’t stop her.
Because this time, she wasn’t running.
And neither was he.
But when he turned back to the living room, something on the bar caught his eye. A small velvet box. He hadn’t noticed it earlier. Hadn’t touched it in years.
He opened it.
Inside lay the child-sized gold ring he’d once placed on Elena’s thumb.
He didn’t remember putting it there. But it had found its way back to him.
She must’ve left it.
A message. A reminder. A reckoning.
And Kian understood.
The past had returned.
Not to haunt them.
But to demand justice.
---