CHAPTER 16 — The Man Who Wouldn’t Let Go
433 Words
The air between them was suffocating.
Amara could feel it—thick, heavy, charged with everything they hadn’t said.
Ethan stood too close.
Too familiar.
Too dangerous.
Her pulse hammered in her ears, but her face remained calm. Controlled. Untouchable.
“I believe you’re mistaken, Mr. Blackwood,” she said evenly, turning her attention back to her display as if he were nothing more than another guest.
But inside…
Her heart was racing.
He let out a low breath, his eyes never leaving her.
“Mistaken?” he repeated quietly. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”
Amara didn’t respond.
Didn’t look at him.
Didn’t give him anything.
Because she knew—
The moment she did, she would lose control.
And she couldn’t afford that.
Not now.
Not when everything she had built was standing right here, on display for the world to see.
“You disappeared,” Ethan said, his voice lower now. “No explanation. No trace.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the fabric she was adjusting.
“That doesn’t concern you,” she replied.
His jaw clenched.
“It does when it involves me.”
That made her pause.
Slowly, she turned to face him.
“For someone who once called me a mistake,” she said softly, her eyes sharp, “you seem very interested in my existence now.”
The words hit.
Hard.
Ethan’s expression darkened, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.
“Things change,” he said.
Amara let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
“No,” she replied. “People reveal who they really are. That’s what changes.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The noise of the exhibition faded into the background.
It was just them.
Just the past.
Just the tension that refused to die.
Then—
“Miss Amara!” a voice called.
She turned instantly, relief flickering briefly across her face.
A client approached, smiling warmly.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your designs are stunning.”
Amara smiled politely.
“Thank you. How can I help you?”
Ethan watched the interaction silently.
Studying her.
Analyzing every detail.
The way she spoke.
The way she carried herself.
The confidence.
The distance.
This wasn’t the same woman.
And yet…
It was.
When the conversation ended, Amara excused herself quickly, moving toward another section of the hall.
Away from him.
But Ethan didn’t move.
Didn’t follow.
Not yet.
Because something was already forming in his mind.
Something sharper than curiosity.
Something darker than interest.
A question.
Why did she really leave?
And more importantly…
What was she hiding?
- Writer
