Chapter 1 - The Ring in the Rain
The leather steering wheel felt slippery under Adrien’s trembling hands. The sports car was idling softly in the narrow alley beside The Blossom Co., the low rumble of the twin-turbo engine contrasting sharply with the chaotic silence inside his head.
On the passenger seat lay the brown butcher-paper bouquet of white lilies—simple, elegant, and smelling faintly of rain and crushed stems. Next to it, inside his coat pocket, was the velvet box containing the three-carat diamond ring intended for Veronica.
They are mine, his mind kept repeating, running the calculations over and over like an infinite loop in a broken script. Six years ago. Five-year-old twins. Blonde hair, blue eyes. My mother’s eyes.
His phone buzzed on the dashboard mount. The screen lit up with an incoming call from his personal assistant, Julian.
Adrien took a breath, trying to force his voice back into its usual commanding, impenetrable tone. He tapped the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel.
"Yes, Julian?"
"Mr. Blake, the rooftop reservation at L'Étoile is confirmed for 7:30 PM," Julian’s crisp, ultra-efficient voice filled the quiet cabin. "The sommelier has decanted the 1996 Chateau Margaux as requested. Ms. Veronica’s stylist confirmed she left her suite ten minutes ago. Are you still on schedule?"
Adrien stared at the cracked wooden sign of the flower shop visible in his side mirror. "Julian... clear my schedule for the rest of the evening."
A rare silence stretched across the line. Julian had worked for Adrien for five years and had never heard his boss miss an appointment, let alone cancel his own engagement dinner. "Sir? Clear the reservation? Ms. Veronica is already en route."
"Handle Veronica," Adrien said, his voice dropping into a flat, distant tone. "Tell her a critical server outage occurred at the data center in Austin. Send her a Cartier bracelet from my personal gift inventory. Postpone the dinner until tomorrow."
"Understood, sir," Julian replied smoothly, though his professional composure sounded visibly strained. "Shall I dispatch a driver to your location?"
"No. I’m driving myself."
Adrien disconnected the call. He didn't move. He sat in his car for two hours as the late afternoon light turned into a cold, misty rain. He watched the warm glow of The Blossom Co. through his rain-streaked windshield.
At 6:15 PM, the small brass bell jingled as Isabella stepped out onto the sidewalk. She pulled down the metal security grate, locked it with a heavy brass key, and turned around. Clutched in her hands were two small yellow umbrellas. Behind her, the twin girls—wearing bright yellow rain slickers and puddle jumper boots—giggled as they stomped on the wet pavement.
Adrien opened his car door and stepped out into the rain.
The cold drops hit his face, but he didn't care. He walked across the narrow street, his expensive Italian leather shoes soaking through, until he blocked her path beneath the dim streetlamp.
Isabella stopped dead in her tracks. The twins paused behind her, peering out from beneath their bright umbrellas with wide, curious eyes.
"Isabella," Adrien said, his voice thick with emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in six years.
Isabella didn't flinch. She pulled the girls slightly behind her canvas-covered coat, her dark brown eyes holding a cold, impenetrable calm. "You shouldn't be standing in the rain, Adrien. You'll ruin your suit."
"Who are they?" he demanded softly, though he already knew the answer. "Isabella, please. Look at them. Look at me."
Isabella sighed, a quiet, tired sound that seemed to draw all the air from the chilly alley. She didn't raise her voice, but her words fell like iron weights onto the pavement.
"They are my daughters, Adrien," she said simply. "Lily and Maya."
"And their father?" Adrien stepped closer, his chest heaving under his cashmere coat. "Isabella, we broke up six years ago in April. They are five years old. They have my eyes. They have my mother’s hair. Do not lie to me."
Isabella looked straight into his eyes, her expression unreadable. "Their father left six years ago. He made a choice. He chose his algorithms, his venture capital meetings, and his empire over a quiet life in a studio apartment above a bakery. He traded us for a net worth with nine zeros."
The truth, spoken so bluntly, hit Adrien like a physical blow.
Six years ago, when his startup was on the verge of bankruptcy, he had spent twenty hours a day in the office. He had missed birthdays, anniversaries, and dinners. When Isabella had packed her bags and walked out, he had been too proud, too arrogant, and too consumed by his obsession with success to chase after her. He had convinced himself she was holding him back.
"I didn't know," Adrien whispered, his throat tight. "Isabella, I swear to God, I didn't know you were pregnant. If I had known—"
"If you had known, what?" Isabella interrupted, her tone sharp as broken glass. "You would have written a check? You would have hired a team of nannies so you could keep working eighty hours a week? Or would you have forced me into a prenup and turned my daughters into media props for your corporate image?"
"They are my daughters too!" he shouted, the composure he held so dear completely shattering.
The twins whimpered slightly at his raised voice, pulling tighter against Isabella's coat.
Isabella immediately softened her stance, turning to comfort the girls. She touched their cheeks, whispering gentle reassurance until they stopped trembling. Then she turned back to Adrien, her face set like stone.
"You died to us six years ago, Adrien," she said quietly. "Do not try to come back to life now just because your schedule happens to be clear."
May you like
She pushed past him into the misty dark, holding her daughters' hands tightly as they walked away toward the subway station.
Adrien stood alone under the streetlamp, the rain soaking through his clothes, staring down at the velvet box in his pocket. For the first time in his life, the multimillionaire logic king felt utterly, completely bankrupt.
