"Hold still, Mommy. You have sparkles on your face."

Leo's small fingers reach up to brush at my cheek, his expression one of intense concentration. I smile down at him, grateful for this moment of normalcy amidst the surreal circumstances of my life.


"Thank you, sweetheart," I say, checking my reflection in the full-length mirror of my dressing room. The emerald green gown I've chosen for tonight's gala is a statement piece—backless, with a high neckline and a slit that reveals just enough leg to be elegant rather than scandalous. My hair is swept up in a sophisticated chignon, and diamonds—wedding gifts from Ethan—glitter at my ears and throat.

The woman in the mirror looks nothing like the Olivia Morgan who fled New York in disgrace five years ago. She is polished, powerful, untouchable. Exactly the image I need to project tonight when I face my past.

"You look like a princess," Leo declares, adjusting his little bow tie. Ethan has arranged for him to have dinner with Mrs. Chen while we attend the gala, but Leo insisted on seeing us "all dressed up" before we leave.


"And you look like a very handsome young man," I reply, straightening his already-perfect tie.

A knock at the door interrupts our moment. "May I come in?" Ethan's voice calls.


"Yes, Daddy!" Leo answers before I can respond.

The door opens to reveal Ethan in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, his dark hair styled impeccably, his blue eyes—so like Leo's—bright against his tanned skin. He looks like he was born to wear formal attire, the very picture of wealth and power.

For a moment, our eyes meet in the mirror, and something electric passes between us—an awareness that has nothing to do with our business arrangement and everything to do with the primal attraction neither of us anticipated.

"Wow, Daddy! You look like James Bond!" Leo exclaims, breaking the tension.

Ethan laughs, ruffling our son's hair. "Thank you, buddy. And your mother..." His eyes return to me, traveling slowly from my upswept hair to my stiletto-clad feet. "Your mother looks absolutely stunning."

The compliment, delivered in that deep voice with unmistakable appreciation, sends an unwelcome flutter through my stomach. I turn to face him directly, determined to maintain our professional dynamic.

"Thank you. You clean up well yourself," I say lightly. "Is the car ready?"

"Waiting downstairs," Ethan confirms. "But first..." He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a small velvet box. "A wedding gift. I thought you might wear it tonight."

I hesitate before accepting the box. More jewelry? The diamonds I'm already wearing cost more than most people's annual salary. What could possibly—

My thoughts freeze as I open the box to reveal a sapphire ring—not just any sapphire, but an exact replica of my mother's ring. The one heirloom I managed to keep when I lost everything else. The ring currently locked in the safe in my closet.

"How did you..." I begin, unable to complete the thought.

"I noticed you wearing it in the photo from the Singapore business journal," Ethan explains. "It seemed important to you. This is a replica—I thought you might like to have one you could wear publicly without risking the original."

I stare at the ring, emotions warring within me. The thoughtfulness of the gesture is unexpected, touching in a way I'm not prepared for. But it also means Ethan has been studying me more closely than I realized, noticing details I thought insignificant.

"It was my mother's," I say finally, my voice softer than intended. "Her grandmother's before that. The only thing I have left of her."

Ethan's expression gentles. "Then I'm glad you were able to keep it safe. Will you wear this one tonight?"

I nod, still too moved to speak properly, and allow him to slide the ring onto my right hand. The weight of it feels right, familiar, a connection to my past that strengthens my resolve for what's to come tonight.

"Thank you," I manage finally. "It's... perfect."

"You're welcome," Ethan replies, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer than necessary before he turns to Leo. "Now, young man, I believe Mrs. Chen has pizza and a movie waiting for you."

"Dinosaur movie?" Leo asks hopefully.

"What else?" Ethan grins, taking his hand. "Let's get you settled before we leave."

I follow them to the kitchen where Mrs. Chen, a kind-faced woman in her fifties, has prepared Leo's favorite dinner. After kisses goodbye and promises to come check on him when we return, Ethan and I head to the elevator.

As we descend to the lobby, I'm acutely aware of Ethan beside me—his cologne, subtle and expensive; the breadth of his shoulders beneath the perfect tuxedo; the quiet confidence he exudes without effort. My husband, at least on paper. A stranger in so many ways, yet connected to me through our son and now through legal vows.

"Nervous?" he asks as the elevator reaches the lobby.

"Why would I be nervous?" I counter, keeping my voice steady.

"First public appearance as Mrs. Knight," he replies. "The press will be watching. Society will be judging. And if I'm not mistaken, you'll be seeing some ghosts from your past tonight."

I glance at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Charles Morgan and his family will be attending," Ethan says, guiding me through the lobby with a hand at the small of my back. "Given your history with Morgan Group, I imagine that might be... uncomfortable."

He doesn't know the half of it. Doesn't know that Charles is my father, that Cassandra is my stepsister, that they believe me long gone from their lives. At least, I don't think he knows. With Ethan, it's becoming increasingly difficult to determine exactly what information he possesses.

"I can handle the Morgans," I say coolly as we reach the waiting limousine. "Business is business."

Ethan helps me into the car, then slides in beside me. "And personal vendettas? Can you handle those too?"

My blood freezes. Does he know? Has he somehow discovered my true purpose in returning to New York?

"I don't know what you mean," I reply, fighting to keep my expression neutral.

Ethan studies me for a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable in the dim light of the car. "Olivia, I didn't build a multi-billion-dollar empire by being unobservant. Your interest in acquiring Morgan Group's Asian division goes beyond business strategy. You have a personal stake in this."

I consider my options carefully. A partial truth might satisfy him without revealing too much.

"You're right," I admit. "I do have history with Morgan Group. Five years ago, I interviewed for a position there—a position that ultimately went to someone less qualified but better connected. It left a... bad taste."

"And now you're back to prove yourself," Ethan suggests, accepting my sanitized version of events. "To show them what they missed out on."

"Something like that," I agree, relieved that he hasn't pressed further.

"Well, you'll certainly make an impression tonight," he says, his eyes traveling over me again with undisguised appreciation. "Everyone will be wondering who the mysterious Olivia Knight is and where I've been hiding you all this time."

"Let them wonder," I reply, a cold smile playing at my lips. "Mystery has its advantages."

The car pulls up to the Riverside Museum, where red carpet and photographers await the arriving guests. Through the tinted windows, I can see New York's elite making their entrances—women dripping in jewels, men in custom tuxedos, all playing their parts in the elaborate theater of high society.

"Ready?" Ethan asks as our driver opens the door.

I take a deep breath, centering myself for what's to come. "Ready."

The moment we step onto the red carpet, flashbulbs explode around us. "Mr. Knight! Ethan! Over here!" photographers call, jostling for position. Ethan's arm slides around my waist, steady and protective as he guides me through the gauntlet.

"Mr. Knight, who's your date?" one reporter calls.

"Not my date," Ethan corrects smoothly. "My wife. May I present Olivia Knight."

The announcement sends a ripple of surprise through the assembled press. Ethan Knight, one of New York's most eligible bachelors, married? And to whom? The questions fly faster now, a barrage we ignore as Ethan leads me into the museum.