His Return

*Chapter 1* All the cameras flashed at her, murmurs filling the air as each photographer struggled for a picture. The lights were too bright. They burned her eyes until white spots floated in her vision and she had to blink to clear them. The heat clung to her skin under the red gown. The diamond necklace at her throat felt one size too tight, like a collar she could not take off no matter how much she wanted to. The air smelled like perfume and sweat, the faint metal of jewelry pressing into her skin. To the media, she was the untouchable goddess of cinema. The girl who came from nothing and made the whole world believe in love. To herself, she was counting. Four minutes. Three. Two more rounds of photos, and she could slip inside and breathe. "Miss Elsa! Over here! Chin up!" "Elsa! Left profile! Give us that smile!" She turned her head to the exact angle. Chin up. Lips soft. Eyes warm. It was the smile she had practiced in the bathroom mirror the year she learned how to act like nothing was wrong. The smile she wore when she signed papers alone and walked out without crying. "You are doing amazing, sweetie," Riana called from the side of the red carpet, giving her a thumbs up. Her publicist's eyes were scanning security, the crowd, her phone, but when she looked at Elsa her smile was real. The only real thing here. Elsa gave her a small nod. Just five more minutes. Then she could take the heavy diamonds off and breathe. Then the noise died. Not slowly. Not gradually. One second it was loud, shouts and flashes everywhere. The next second, silence. So complete she could hear her own heart. Thud. Thud. Thud. Every head turned toward the huge doors of the ballroom. Even the cameras stopped clicking. "Ladies and gentlemen," the MC's voice boomed, echoing off the marble walls. "We introduce to you the new Chief Executive of Lox Corporation, William Lox." Whispers rose immediately. Different this time. Sharper. Heavier. The same William Lox who had been running Lox Corporation for years without anyone ever seeing his face. A name on contracts. A signature on checks. A ghost. The doors swung open. Why was he here? He walked out with an entourage behind him, lawyers in suits, assistants with tablets, security in black. But Elsa did not see any of them. She only saw him. The walk. Measured. Unhurried. Like he already owned the floor he was stepping onto. The slight tilt of his head as he scanned the room, left to right, assessing everything. Then his right hand came into view as he adjusted his cuff, and there it was. The thin white scar across his knuckles. The one she used to kiss when Will cut it, fixing her car in the campus parking lot in the rain. Will... Now William. Impossible. The air left her chest. A sense of familiarity washed over her. Her eyes widened, mouth slightly open, the kind of pause you make after seeing a ghost. Everyone else saw a handsome man in a dark suit. A rich man. The new CEO. Broad shoulders. Rich cologne. A watch that cost annual salaries. The kind of face that sold magazines. Elsa saw the boy who had whispered. I have got you, in a dorm room that smelled like cheap coffee. The boy who made that promise and vanished the next morning. Applause started again, polite and loud. The cameras started clicking, desperate for the shot of the new CEO. But everything else faded. There was only him walking closer, one step at a time. And her, standing there frozen in red. Everyone was staring at the CEO. But she knew better. Saw better. Even if his hair was shorter now. Even if his shoulders were broader. She would never forget the way his jaw moved when he was holding words back. The way he looked at people felt like he was deciding things. Her hands started to shake. She hid them behind her gown and pressed her nails into her palm until it hurt. He stopped two feet in front of her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. Dark. Clean. Different from the one he wore five years ago. But still him. She forced herself to look up. Into his eyes. The same dark brown. But it was colder now. Like the windows had been shut and locked from the inside. Words hung between them. Words that had not been said in five years. Accusations. Questions. Things that would never be answered. "Congratulations," his deep voice cut through her stiffness and sent a shiver down her spine. He was talking to her. It was rougher now. Deeper. But it was still him. The same voice that used to say her name at two in the morning when she could not sleep. "Elsa," he said, like he had a right to. Like a dare. She shook her head, just a little. Glanced at the cameras circling them, then back at him. They were watching. Waiting for the perfect photo of the new CEO greeting the face of Lox Beauty. She could not break. Not here. Not on camera. "No," she murmured, soft. Only he could hear it over the noise of the room. His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Elsa," he said, lower this time. William stepped forward and held out his hand. Palm up. For the handshake. For the press. Expecting her to take it. She blinked, straightened her back, and gave him her hand. Her fingers were ice and his were warm. When they touched, it burned, like touching a stove you knew would hurt and doing it anyway. He held on a second too long. His thumb brushed over her knuckles once. A ghost of a habit she thought he had forgotten. Cameras clicked all around them. "Perfect! Great shot!" someone shouted. He leaned in then, close enough that only she could hear him over the sound of the flashes. "We should talk," he whispered, too quiet for the mics. Too calm. Elsa kept her smile in place. The practiced one. The one that said she was fine. She met his eyes and s aid nothing. Not yet. Not until she knew why he was here. He should not be alive anyway.