Her REV LOVE

C-7

The music swirled around me, the notes rich and seductive, but I barely heard it. My gaze was fastened on the woman standing under the spotlight, her presence commanding the grand ballroom. She looked just like her. My heart clenched painfully as I stood frozen in place. It had been six long years, and yet every fiber of my being screamed her name.

"Larisa." I muttered under my breath, my throat dry as I clenched my fists. No, it couldn't be. She was gone, buried in a grave that had haunted me every day since her death. Yet here she was, or at least, someone who looked uncannily like her.

"Frank, are you okay?" Ivy's voice cut through my trance. Her fingers brushed my arm, possessive and insistent, but I barely felt her touch. My eyes refused to leave the woman on the stage.

Lora Davis. That's what the MC called her. She wasn't Larisa. She couldn't be. But damn it, she looked so much like her that my heart refused to accept the truth.

"Frank?" Ivy tried again, this time her voice sharper. I turned slightly to acknowledge her, but I didn't bother answering. I couldn't. My thoughts were a whirlwind, my emotions a mess.

Lora Davis finished her speech and stepped down from the stage, her every move graceful and deliberate. The MC announced her as the youngest female CEO in Seoul, and the applause that followed was thunderous. I barely noticed. My attention now fell upon the man who approached her next. Jason Lee, the newly minted CEO of some tech giant, extended his hand to her. She accepted it with a dazzling smile, and they walked toward the center of the dance floor.

I gritted my teeth as I watched them. The way Jason's hand rested on her waist, the way they moved in perfect harmony to the music-it stirred something dark and volatile inside me. I told myself it wasn't jealousy. It couldn't be. She wasn't Larisa.

"Frank," Ivy's voice dropped to a hiss, her nails digging into my arm. "You're staring. Everyone's going to notice."

I tore my gaze off Lora and looked at Ivy for the first time tonight. Her perfectly made-up face was marred by a scowl, her lips pressed into a thin line. Ivy had been by my side for years, but it was moments like this that reminded me how much she wasn't Larisa. She never could be.

"Do you think she looks like Larisa?" Ivy's voice was tinged with bitter resentment.

I didn't say a word. Couldn't.

"Frank, it's been six years," Ivy nudged me on. "She's gone. You have to let her go."

I knew she was right. I'd chided myself for it enough times, but tonight, looking into Lora Davis'… it felt like someone reached in and pulled open that wound I worked so tirelessly to close off.

"You’re imagining things," Ivy said, her voice softening. "Larisa was an orphan. There’s no way she could be Jack Davis’s daughter."

I nodded absently, though her words did little to quell the storm that raged inside me. Ivy's grip on my arm tightened, as if she feared I might just walk away. And honestly, I wanted to. I wanted to get closer to Lora, hear her voice again-to convince myself that she wasn't… couldn't be Larisa.

When Jason excused himself to take a call, leaving Lora standing alone near the edge of the dance floor, I saw my chance. Ivy's protests fell to the background as I headed toward her, my stride sure yet hesitant. As I approached her, my heart thundered in my chest.

"Good evening, Miss Davis," I said. My voice was steady, not like the rest of me.

She turned toward me, her eyes hazing to lock onto mine. My breath caught in my throat. Up close, the resemblance was even more striking-the eyes, the lips, the way she held herself. It was as if Larisa had come back to life.

"Good evening," she answered, her tone polite but reserved. There was no glimmer of recognition in those eyes, no spark of familiarity. My heart tumbled.

"I'm Frank Park," I said, extending a hand. "CEO of Park Industries."

She took my hand after a moment's hesitation. "Lora Davis."

"I've heard a lot about you," I said, forcing a smile. "Congratulations on your recent achievements."

"Thank you," she said, her tone polite but wary. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Park?"

I felt uncertain about what to say. I had come on a whim, driven by emotion I didn't fully comprehend. Now that I was here, I felt stupid.

"I was wondering if you'd be open to discussing a potential partnership," I said finally, trying for anything to keep the conversation going.

Her eyebrows slightly arched. "This doesn't seem like an appropriate setting for a business discussion."

She was right, of course. But I couldn't let her walk away. "Perhaps we could schedule a meeting?"

Lora's lips arced into a polite smile. "You can contact my assistant to arrange something."

"Wait," I said, desperation creeping into my voice as she turned to leave. "You feel so familiar. Have we met before?"

She paused, her gaze sharpening as she studied me. "I don't believe so."

"Are you sure?" I pressed on. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

Her expression softened ever so slightly, but the resolution in her tone never budged. "I'm sorry, Mr. Park. I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart in my throat. I watched her go, the ache in my chest intensifying with every step she took. She wasn't Larisa. I knew that. But why did it feel like I had just lost her all over again?

---

I stood out on the balcony later that night, the cool air offering little balm to my racing thoughts. Ivy joined me, her presence as stifling as ever.

"She's not Larisa, Frank," she said, frustration and pity mingling in her tone.

"I know," I said quietly. "But seeing her tonight. it felt like she was here."

"She's gone," Ivy said, her voice firming. "And if you continue chasing ghosts, you'll lose what's right in front of you."

I didn't say a word.