CHAPTER 1:THE RETURN
DAVE'S POV
The private jet touched down with a smooth, commanding glide, its wheels kissing the runway beneath the midnight sky. I remained seated. Still. Silent.My sharp blue eyes stared through the oval window at the city lights stretching endlessly into the darkness.For years, this country had existed only in fragments of memory cold nights, suffocating rules, the iron grip of father's control, and one face that had never once left my mind.
I rose slowly from my seat, adjusting the cuff of my black tailored suit. Every movement i made was deliberate, precise, and powerful. Gone was the boy who had once been forced onto a plane against his will. The man stepping out now was feared across continents. The black luxury car waiting for me outside the private terminal gleamed under the dim lights.
Frederick, my personal and trusted assistant was already there. Tall, composed, and impeccably dressed, he's my most trusted assistant. He gave a respectful nod. "Welcome back, sir." I slid into the backseat without a word. The car pulled away from the airport, the city lights reflecting against the dark windows. The city no longer looked the way I remembered it. Years had passed, and time had dressed it in a different skin.
The roads were broader, the traffic denser, and the skyline had transformed into a forest of steel and glass. Towering buildings pierced the evening sky, their illuminated windows glittering like stars against the deepening dusk. Neon signs reflected off the wet pavement, each light breaking into a thousand fragments beneath the lingering rain.
Yet, for all the changes, something about the air still felt familiar. The scent of rain-soaked earth. The distant hum of the city. The low whisper of memory. Some things, i had learned, never changed. Pain was one of them. The long black luxury car moved silently through the streets, smooth and imposing, its tinted windows concealing the man seated within.
I sat in the back seat with the stillness of a storm waiting to break. The dark suit I'm putting on was perfectly tailored, every line sharp, every detail immaculate. A silver watch rested against my wrist, its face catching the occasional flash of streetlights as the car glided through the city. My posture was relaxed, but there was nothing soft about me. I carried power the way other men carried fear. Quietly. Naturally. Expression carved from ice, unreadable and cold, the kind of face that had become legend in boardrooms and headlines across the world.
The world knew me as The Blackthorn king, billionaire business mogul, ruthless negotiator, and a man whose cold stare alone could reduce grown men to silence. I had built an empire from nothing but determination and fury. Every company i acquired, every rival i crushed, every fortune i amassed. It had all been for one reason. Freedom. Freedom from Benson Trevedy. Freedom from the man who had stolen my life.
The newspapers called me ruthless, competitors called me untouchable, enemies called me dangerous. I preferred silence. Silence gave people time to imagine the worst. And most times, the worst was still kinder than the truth. And now, after years of distance, I had returned stronger than ever.
Frederick glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Would you like to head to the penthouse first?" "No." My voice was low and firm. There was only one place on my mind. "The old house." Frederick paused briefly, then nodded. "Yes, sir." The ride was silent. I leaned back against the leather seat, my jaw set tight.
I had imagined this moment for years. The old neighborhood. The quiet street. The house next door. Would she still be there? Was she happy? Did she ever think about me? Did she even remember the quiet boy who used to linger by the window The questions had tormented me for years. Tonight, I would finally have answers.
Freddie's voice broke through the quiet. "Sir, we're almost there." I lifted my gaze from the city lights beyond the window. Almost there. For a moment, the words stirred something deep within me. A memory. A younger version of myself, standing at a bedroom window, looking beyond the fence into the house next door. A girl in the garden.
Golden curls bouncing as she ran across the grass. A laugh so bright it once made the world feel less lonely. Sarah. Even after all these years, her name still lived in the deepest part of me. My father had tried to tear it away. He had failed. If anything, distance had only made the memory sharper. What had once been the innocent affection of a teenage boy had hardened over the years into something far more powerful. A need. A promise. An obsession.
The car slowed as it turned into the familiar street. For the first time in years, something inside me shifted. The neighborhood had changed. The houses looked grander. The roads were smoother. The trees taller. But the memories remained.I could still remember the golden evening light spilling across the gardens. The soft sound of laughter. The image of a girl running through the grass.
The car came to a halt. "We've arrived,sir". I stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushed against my face.For a moment, I simply stood there. The old neighborhood stretched before me. It was quieter than the city center, lined with elegant houses and old trees whose branches swayed gently in the night breeze. Soft lights glowed from windows, and the streetlamps cast long shadows across the pavement.
This was where it had all begun.The place where every memory of Sarah had begun. Before me stood the old Trevedy mansion. Still imposing. Still arrogant. Still carrying the ghosts of my past.
My eyes moved next door. The Evans house. My chest tightened as I stared at it. The structure remained, but everything else had changed.
The white fence had been replaced with dark iron bars. The rose bushes Sarah's mother once cared for were gone. The porch had been renovated.
Nothing about it felt the same. And yet the memories came anyway. A teenage Dave, forbidden from speaking to the girl next door. My father's voice, cold and absolute. She is beneath this family. You will stay away from her.
But I had never listened. Not truly. I had watched from a distance, had memorized the sound of her laughter. The way sunlight seemed to cling to her curls. The strange beauty of her purple eyes. Even then, I had known. There would never be anyone else. I walked toward the house slowly, each step heavier than the last. My hand tightened at my side as I knocked.
A moment later, the door opened. A woman in her late forties stood there, her expression polite but cautious. "Yes?" my voice came low and calm. "The family who lived here before you. The Evans family." The woman frowned slightly, as though searching her memory. "Oh… yes. They moved away years ago." The words struck me harder than I allowed my face to show. Moved away. Years ago.
"Do you know where?" She shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry. They left without leaving any forwarding address." No address. No trace. Nothing. For the briefest second, something dangerous flickered in my eyes. Not anger. Worse. Loss. I gave a small nod.
"Thank you." Then I turned and walked away.
Back in the car, Frederick was already watching through the rearview mirror.
Frederick in short Fred, as some called him he knew the signs. The silence. The stillness. The slight tightening of my jaw. This was the calm before destruction. "Sir?" I kept my gaze on the house disappearing behind us. "Find her."
Frederick straightened immediately. "Yes, sir." "I want every private investigator, every contact, every source we have working on this." My eyes darkened. "I want Sarah Evans found." "At once, sir."
I leaned back against the leather seat. "She was taken from me once." The words came out quieter this time. A vow more than a statement. "It will not happen again." Fred's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Sir, your father had called when you were at the old house". I wonder why that man is calling now? "What did he say?" I saw the hesitation in freddie's eyes.
He was trying to say something, but couldn't find the right words. "Sir, he wants you to come home straight. He will like to have a word with you". I knew it. That man wouldn't change, I'm not ready for his arrogance now. I won't be visiting him, I'm no longer under his control, I can't be who he wants me too be. "I don't want too see him, just take me home" "Yes sir". I just want to rest and think of a way to find Sarah.
The following weeks passed like a machine set into motion. Dave threw himself into work with his usual precision. Meetings, acquisitions. Negotiations. The expansion of Black thorn company into three new international markets.
Entire companies rose or collapsed at the movement of his hand. People feared him for his ability to make decisions without hesitation. To ruin lives without remorse.
But beneath the empire, beneath the wealth and endless control, one thought remained constant.
Sarah. Every morning, he wondered where she was. Every night, he imagined what she had become. Had she changed? Would she remember him? Did she ever think of the quiet boy next door?
Or had the years erased him from her memory?
For Dave, forgetting had never been an option.
A girl laughing in the sunlight. Purple eyes glancing toward his window. A smile he had carried with him across oceans. His voice came out almost like a whisper. "Soon." Because this time, fate would not take her away. This time, no one would stand between them. Not his father. Not distance. Not time.
Dave Trevedy had returned. And he was no longer the boy who had once watched from a distance. Now he was the man who controlled everything he desired.And Sarah Evans, Whether she knew it or not, she was already walking toward him.
