The Billionaire’s Recalimed Love

Chapter Three

OPHELIA'S POV

I glanced out the window as the plane descended, the sprawling cityscape of New York coming into view. It had been six long years since I left the city of my past, carrying nothing but a few belongings and a heart full of betrayal. Now, I was returning, not as the broken woman who had been forced out, but as Ophelia Blackwood, a renowned interior designer with my son, Adonis, by my side.

The taxi ride from the airport to the hotel was a blur of skyscrapers and bustling streets. Adonis, now five years old, sat beside me, his wide eyes taking in the sights with excitement. "Mom, look at that building! It's so tall!" he exclaimed, pointing at the Empire State Building.

"Yes, sweetheart," I replied, smiling at his enthusiasm. "New York is full of tall buildings. We'll have plenty of time to explore them."

We arrived at the hotel, a sleek, modern establishment in the heart of Manhattan. After checking in, I led Adonis up to our room. The moment we stepped inside, I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, but there was no time to rest. I had work to do.

"Mommy needs to do some work now, Adonis," I said, setting up my laptop on the desk. "Why don't you play with your toys for a bit?"

"Okay, Mom," he agreed, settling down with his favorite action figures.

I opened my laptop and pulled up the layout of my latest project. The screen filled with detailed designs and blueprints for a high-profile client's penthouse. I had poured my heart and soul into this project, knowing that success here would cement my reputation in the industry.

As I reviewed the designs, my mind wandered back to the vow I had made six years ago. I had left the city in disgrace, but I had promised myself that one day, I would return and seek justice for myself and Oldman Blackwood. The betrayal I had faced still burned within me, fueling my determination to succeed.

"Mom, what's that?" Adonis's voice brought me back to the present. He had wandered over and was peering at the screen.

"This is a project I'm working on, sweetheart," I explained. "It's for a very important client."

"Wow," he said, eyes wide. "It looks amazing. You're so talented, Mom."

"Thank you, Adonis," I said, ruffling his hair. "I do my best."

I turned back to the screen, a new resolve settling over me. I had come a long way since that dark day, building a successful career and raising my son on my own. But the promise of justice still lingered in my heart.

"One day, Adonis," I whispered, more to myself than to him, "we'll find a way to make things right. For both of us."

I continued working late into the night, the quiet strength that had seen me through the past six years. New York was a city of second chances, and I intended to make the most of mine and to give my son the life I never grew up with, a good life.

"Mom, I'm hungry," Adonis said, tugging at my sleeve. His wide eyes looked up at me, filled with that innocent expectation that only a child could have.

I glanced at the time on my laptop. It was already past seven, and my stomach rumbled in agreement. "Alright, let's go down to the restaurant and get something to eat," I said, closing my laptop and standing up. "How about a big burger and some fries?"

"Yes! With extra ketchup!" Adonis exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

We took the elevator down to the hotel restaurant, Adonis bouncing on his toes the entire way. The restaurant was bustling with activity, the soft clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations creating a lively atmosphere. I guided Adonis to a table near the window where we could enjoy the view of the city lights.

"Stay here while I go order," I instructed, pointing to the menu. "What do you want to drink?"

"Orange juice, please!" Adonis replied, already engrossed in the children's menu.

I headed to the counter, taking a quick glance back to make sure he was still at the table. As I placed our order, I turned around again, only to find the chair empty.

"Adonis?" I called out, my heart skipping a beat. I scanned the restaurant, my pulse quickening. Where could he have gone?

Panic surged through me as I wove through the tables, calling his name. "Adonis! Adonis, where are you?" I pushed open the door to the kitchen, peeking inside. No sign of him.

Just as I was about to alert the hotel staff, I heard a familiar voice. "Little man, you shouldn't wander off like that."

I froze. It couldn't be. Slowly, I turned around and saw him—Maverick Lockwood—standing near the entrance with Adonis by his side. My heart lurched in my chest.

"Maverick," I whispered to myself, barely able to get the word out.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded away, and it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. He hadn't changed much in six years. Still the same intense gaze, the same strong jawline. But there was something different in his eyes—weariness, maybe, or regret.