CHAPTER TWO
1036 Words
Chapter Two – The Heir and His Ghosts
The sun rose over Lagos, lighting up the tall glass of DeLuca Tower. To everyone else, it looked like success — power, money, and legacy.
To Domenico DeLuca, it felt like a cage.
He sat in his office, staring at numbers that made no sense. The company was losing money. Investors were worried. His father’s empire — the pride of the DeLuca family — was crumbling fast.
At thirty-two, Dom had everything money could buy, but nothing that made him feel alive.
His phone buzzed. It was his stepmother, Isabella.
“Domenico,” her voice came sharp and smooth, “the board meets at noon. Look confident. They smell weakness.”
He forced a tired smile. “I’ll be there.”
“Good,” she said, pausing. “And Domenico… try not to be soft. You remind me too much of your mother.”
The line went dead.
Dom leaned back, staring at the ceiling. That was Isabella’s favorite word — soft. She used it like an insult.
But the truth was, he was soft once — the kind of boy who believed love could fix anything.
Until the day he let fear ruin it.
Until Aurora.
Even now, years later, her name still burned somewhere inside him.
Sometimes he dreamed about her — her laughter, her eyes, the rain that day.
The day he stayed silent when she needed him most.
“Sir?” his assistant, Tayo, knocked softly. “Someone wants to see you. Urgent.”
Dom didn’t look up. “Tell them to book an appointment. I’m not seeing anyone.”
“It’s the CEO of Vélon Industries,” Tayo said. “She said it can’t wait.”
Dom frowned.
Vélon. The fastest-growing luxury brand in Africa.
The name felt strange, almost familiar.
He hesitated, then said, “Fine. Send her in at noon.”
By noon, the boardroom was ready. Floor-to-ceiling windows, Lagos stretching below.
Dom stood there, adjusting his tie, trying to shake off a strange feeling in his chest.
The door opened.
He turned — and time froze.
Aurora Velasquez walked in.
The girl he’d once loved. The girl he’d watched lose everything.
Only now, she wasn’t that girl anymore.
She was all poise and power.
Her black suit was clean, sharp. Her steps were calm and confident. The air changed the moment she entered the room.
Dom felt his chest tighten.
“Aurora,” he breathed.
Her smile was polite. “Mr. DeLuca. Long time.”
Even her voice had changed — steady, cold. The softness he remembered was gone.
He cleared his throat. “Please, sit.”
She did, crossing her legs slowly, like someone completely in control.
The rest of the board members exchanged quick looks. They could feel the tension, but no one spoke.
They went through the usual business talk — numbers, shares, profits.
But every word felt like a test.
Every glance carried a memory.
Dom finally asked, “Why us, Miss Velasquez? You could invest anywhere. Why the DeLuca Group?”
Aurora’s lips curved slightly. “Let’s just say history has a way of coming full circle.”
He frowned. “History?”
“Some debts,” she said softly, “should be paid in person.”
Her tone was calm, but her eyes were sharp.
He knew exactly what she meant.
“If this is about the past—” he started.
She smiled faintly. “It’s business, Mr. DeLuca. Don’t flatter yourself.”
But he could hear the anger under her calm voice.
The meeting ended. The board members left one by one, leaving just the two of them.
Dom spoke first. “Aurora, wait.”
She stopped near the door. “Yes?”
“I didn’t know you were behind Vélon,” he said. “If I had—”
She cut him off with a quiet laugh. “You’d have done what? Believed me this time?”
He swallowed hard. “I was young. I didn’t know how to—”
“You didn’t stand up for me,” she said flatly. “That’s all that matters.”
Dom looked at her, regret in his eyes. “I never forgot that day.”
Aurora tilted her head. “Good. Neither did I.”
She gathered her files and turned to leave. “My lawyers will contact yours. Goodbye, Mr. DeLuca.”
Her heels echoed down the hallway, each step hitting him like a reminder of what he’d lost.
That night, Dom couldn’t sleep. He drove out of the city to the old mansion — the same one where everything had fallen apart.
It was empty now. Dusty. Silent.
He walked through the garden, past the broken fountain.
The same place where they’d first met — where he’d watched her laugh, where everything was still simple.
He stared at the dry basin and sighed.
“She hates me,” he whispered. “And maybe she should.”
The wind answered with silence.
He pulled out his phone and searched her name. Her face filled the screen — confident, powerful, untouchable.
To the world, she was a success story.
To him, she was the ghost he couldn’t bury.
Across the city, Aurora stood by her penthouse window.
The lights of Lagos sparkled below, but her mind was somewhere else.
She’d done it.
She’d walked into his office and watched him break without even raising her voice.
That should have felt like victory.
But it didn’t.
Her chest felt tight, and she hated that. She didn’t want to feel anything for him — not anger, not sadness, nothing.
Her assistant had left hours ago. The room was quiet, except for the hum of the city.
Aurora looked down at her reflection on the glass.
The confident CEO stared back.
But beneath the perfect suit and steady eyes, there was still that sixteen-year-old girl who’d stood in the rain — the one he let go.
She shook her head.
“Don’t be weak,” she whispered to herself. “This is business.”
But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just business anymore.
It was personal.
And no amount of power could change that.
- Writer
