The next morning, a sleek Maybach glided out of the Moran villa’s driveway.

Maurice Moran leaned against the hand-stitched leather seat, his eyes closed. Despite his attempts to focus on the day’s agenda, fragments of a night five years ago kept surfacing. To navigate the city without alerting his uncle’s network of informants, Maurice often used a high-tech simulation mask when visiting places like the Imperial Golden Club. It was a secret known only to his inner circle. Was it possible, he mused, that the woman from last night actually recognized me behind the disguise?

“Mr. Moran?” His assistant, Corbin Jenkins, broke the silence. He had been monitoring his tablet and was ready to report. “I’ve identified her. Her name is Eliana Pierce. She officially joined the Moran Group’s design department just yesterday. It appears the director, Gabrielle Aston, took her to that meeting at the club under the guise of a project briefing.”

“Is that all?” Maurice opened one eye, his gaze sharp and impatient.

Corbin hesitated, a hint of professional embarrassment on his face. “That’s the strange part, sir. Her records before joining the company are almost non-existent. It’s as if someone intentionally scrubbed her history.”

Maurice’s lip curled into a cold sneer. “Someone doesn't want her past coming to light.” And in his world, that 'someone' usually shared his last name. His uncle had been playing a long game to undermine him for years; using a mysterious woman as a pawn was exactly his style.

On the other side of the city, Eliana groaned as the morning light pierced through her headache. The hangover was a brutal reminder of the previous night’s chaos.

She sat up, taking in the opulent surroundings of the private suite. Catching her reflection in the polished wall, she winced at her disheveled state. Then, the memories hit her—the confrontation with Antwan, the desperate escape, and the man who had caught her.

That arrogant stranger... she thought, her teeth clenched. He’s definitely the one from five years ago. I’d know those eyes anywhere.

Relieved to find her clothes intact and the room empty, she didn't waste another second. She slipped out of the club, managed to get home to check on her sleeping twins, Adrian and Aileen, and quickly changed into professional attire. She had a battle to fight at the office.

When Eliana reached the Moran Group headquarters, she found Gabrielle Aston standing near the main conference room, looking as composed and dominant as ever.

“Miss Aston,” Eliana greeted her, her voice echoing with a cold, steady fury.

Gabrielle started, but quickly masked her surprise with a mask of indignation. “Eliana! I took you to that meeting out of professional courtesy, and you managed to offend one of our biggest clients! Mr. Blake is furious. Do you have any idea the damage you’ve caused to the company’s reputation?”

As she spoke, Gabrielle reached out, her sharp nails gesturing dismissively toward Eliana’s shoulder. Eliana caught her wrist in mid-air, her grip firm and unyielding.

“If that was a professional briefing, Miss Aston, then why was I left alone with a client who clearly had no interest in discussing design?” Eliana’s calm tone cut through Gabrielle’s shrill accusations. “Is that how the Moran Group typically secures its contracts?”

The surrounding staff began to murmur. They had all wondered why a newcomer had been hand-picked for such a high-stakes meeting. Now, the predatory nature of Gabrielle’s 'mentorship' was being laid bare.

Feeling the weight of her colleagues' judgmental stares, Gabrielle turned a shade of vivid red. She wrenched her hand away. “How dare you! You’re the one who couldn't handle the pressure and caused a scene. You’re unreliable, Eliana. You’re fired! Clear out your desk and get out!”

Eliana took a slow, deep breath. She hadn't even begun to dig into the archives for the truth about her parents. She couldn't lose this position now.

“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice echoing with unwavering resolve.

“What?!” Gabrielle gasped, pointing a trembling finger at the door. “Do you want me to call security and have you dragged out?”

“She’s not leaving.”

A deep, authoritative voice resonated through the hallway. The crowd instantly went silent, parting like the Red Sea as a tall figure approached. Gabrielle’s bravado vanished instantly, replaced by a look of wary submission as the man stepped into the light.