A Painful Return
Rowan’s POV
I stood up, pacing the length of my office like I could outrun the dread clawing at my chest.
Something was wrong.
The line had gone dead. One second Remi was laughing, and the next—static. Noise then silence. It was as if one minute she was there, the other minute she was gone.
Just gone. My heart flew out of my chest at that moment. Unexplainable sweat started to form on my foreahead, my stomach twisted in fear.
I did not want to think about the worse possible scenario.
“Remi?” I tried again, gripping the phone tighter. “Remi, answer me.”
No response.
“Remi!”
Still nothing.
My heart slammed into my ribs. I grabbed the landline and pressed a code that patched me straight to my head of security. “Trace that call. Right now. Her last location—Crescent Road. I need eyes, traffic cams, everything you’ve got.”
“Sir, what’s happening—”
“Just do it!” I snapped.
I slammed the phone down. The silence in the room felt like it was trying to crush me. I opened the drawer, yanked out my tablet, and pulled up the city traffic surveillance access we’d bought into.
Page after page of cars. License plates. Footage.
Then—
There.
A flipped black sedan. Glass all over the street.
My knees buckled.
“Fuck—no—”
I clicked on the footage, zooming in, praying it was a mistake. That it wasn’t her car. That it wasn’t—
It was.
The same plate. The same shape.
Smoke curled up from the wreck. Someone was dragging a body out.
And everything inside me went still.
No. No. No.
The ringing in my ears started soft.
Then louder.
And louder.
Until it felt like the whole world was screaming.
I stumbled back. The desk corner jabbed my spine, but I didn’t feel it. Couldn’t.
Because my head—
My head went bang.
One sharp crack of something invisible, something deep.
Then nothing.
Just darkness.
And the sound of her name, echoing in the back of my skull.
Remi.
The darkness wasn't silent.
It buzzed. It hummed with fragments, jagged and broken, spinning in no order, no sense. Then—a snap. A flicker. A sudden flash.
And then everything hit me at once. I stood outside looking at another man. He looked just like me. His name was Rowan but it's as if I was watching his…life.
The sheets tangled around his waist. The hotel room lights were dim, the scent of alcohol and sweat clinging to the air like a bad omen. Three women. Their bodies tangled with his, lipstick smudged across his neck. Remi. Standing by the door. In a white dress.
Her wedding dress.
The look in her eyes—like someone had just carved her chest open and pulled her soul out.
He smirked.
He smirked at her.
"Like what you see?" he'd said, his voice thick with cruelty, with poison he thought made him powerful.
Then the scene changed, in the car after the wedding, the next words had rolled off his tongue like venom. "You seemed to enjoy watching me sleep with other women, did it turn you on?"
The memory hit harder than the crash ever could.
Rowan's mind spun, dragged to the past with no mercy.
That cafe.
The first time he'd seen her.
She was holding a paper cup too big for her hands, watching him from across the room. Big eyes. Warm smile. Soft. Nervous. Beautiful. She'd looked at him like he wasn't broken. Like he was someone worth knowing.
She said his name like it tasted sweet.
"Rowan."
It hadn’t mattered that she was a stranger. Something in him had shifted then. He'd chosen to come back to that cafe over and over, telling himself the coffee was good. But really, it was her. Always her.
Before the pain. Before the bitterness that turned him into someone she could barely look at.
Before Gigi left.
Before his grandfather started the endless manipulation. The torture dressed as duty.
Before he forgot how to be human.
He became cold. Sharp. Arrogant. A storm in a tailored suit. And she—Remi—walked into that storm with her heart in her hands.
He should have protected her.
Instead, he used her.
"I just need to get you pregnant," he had told her once. Flat. Empty. "To secure the heir. That’s all."
He'd watched her break in front of him. And still... still, he hadn't stopped.
And when she finally left—walked out of that toxic mess he’d built with her name carved into its foundation—he should've felt free.
But that night, he drank.
And drank.
And fell into another woman's arms like the coward he was.
Gigi had come back then. All polished and perfect. Offering fake comfort in the form of nostalgia and lies. He'd taken it. Thinking it would drown the ache.
He remembered her voice. Soft, coaxing.
"Just sign here, Rowan. Let me help you."
He did.
She handed him a drink.
Then everything slowed.
His limbs wouldn’t move. His tongue felt like sandpaper. He could hear, see, think—but not scream.
And then she did it.
Gigi.
She leaned over and pressed the brake override in his car. Smiled sweetly.
"Sleep tight, darling."
The crash that followed should have killed him. Maybe it did, in a way. Because when he woke up, nothing was there. No memories. No love. No pain. Just silence.
But somewhere, before the blackout took him completely, he had one thought.
One name.
Remi.
And in that moment, before everything vanished—he'd whispered it in his mind, over and over.
I’m sorry, Remi.
Because he was. He always had been. He missed her. He wanted her. He hated himself for how he treated her but he couldn't stop thinking about Remi. Even in death.
****
Rowan’s POV
I remembered everything. Every single thing I did to her. How I had hurt. Hated on her. Why…why did I do that? Why…did I have to hate her so much?
I was pissed my grandfather wanted to tie me down and poured all the built up anger and hatred on her, ruining her.
What right did I have to beg for her forgiveness? I did not deserve it. I do not deserve her or the kids. A monster. That's who I was.
A monster who had hurt her in terrible ways.
My hands gripped the edge of the sink in my office, the memory still blurring my vision. My head was bleeding, mirror destroyed. Office scattered from the rage that burnt within.
My stomach turned. My chest tightened. I hated myself. I hated everything I’d done. Everything I had forgotten. Everything I had let happen.
Remi.
She looked at me on our wedding day—so beautiful it almost didn't feel real. And I… I spit on that. I made her watch me with other women. I spoke those things to her.
“You seemed to enjoy watching me sleep with other women, did it turn you on?”
I wanted to rip my own tongue out.
The anger started from my gut and spread like wildfire. I growled low and sharp, the sound rough and desperate. This couldn’t be fixed with an apology. I had broken her.
But I couldn’t sit in regret. Not now. Not when her life—
I stumbled slightly, dizziness creeping in, but forced myself to grab my phone. My fingers shook as I hit Jo’s contact.
“Rowan?” Jo’s voice came through, low and cautious. Confused on why I was calling her all of a sudden.
“The twins,” I managed. “Are they—are they okay? Are they with you?”
“They’re fine,” she replied. “Remi had told me to take them to the park. I’ve got them. Is everything okay?”
I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t speak the words out loud. If I did, it would become real. Permanent.
I ended the call.
Remi.
I needed to find her.
My legs felt like lead as I pushed myself toward the door, down the hall. Everything was spinning, my vision tunneling, but I didn’t care. My body had one goal. One destination.
I made it to the parking lot, climbed into the car, and slammed the door shut. The ignition roared to life, and I reversed too fast. A car honked nearby, tires screeching as I narrowly missed it. I didn’t stop.
My phone rang.
“Yes?” I snapped.
“Sir,” my assistant’s voice came through, “she’s been taken to our affiliated hospital. She’s in surgery now.”
Surgery.
I didn’t even ask how bad. I didn’t want to know.
I floored the
accelerator, weaving through traffic, every red light daring me to break it. I didn’t care. Not now.
“Please be alright,” I whispered.
Over and over again. Telling myself trying to believe that she was fine.
“Please be alright.”
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