Chained by our past

Chapter 3

The gala was in full swing, a dazzling display of wealth and power as the elite of the tech industry mingled in the opulent ballroom of The Astoria Grand. Gold chandeliers cast a warm glow over polished marble floors, and the soft hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of crystal glasses filled with aged champagne. The night was meant for celebrating industry triumphs and forming alliances, but Isla Calloway had only one goal in mind—confronting the man who had stormed back into her life like a phantom from her past.

Lucas Reyes.

He was here.

Even from across the crowded ballroom, Isla spotted him effortlessly. He stood near the center of the room, exuding the same quiet confidence that had drawn her to him five years ago. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he looked every bit like a man who knew his own power and wasn’t afraid to wield it. His dark hair was slightly shorter than she remembered, his jawline now framed with a neatly trimmed beard, adding a dangerous edge to his already striking features.

But the thing that hadn’t changed?

His eyes.

That piercing green, sharp and assessing, locked onto her the moment she entered the room.

For a second, the noise around her faded into nothing.

His gaze felt like a challenge, like he had been waiting for this moment. And then, just as he had done years ago, he smirked.

A slow, deliberate curve of his lips that made heat coil in her stomach—and rage burn in her chest.

Isla tightened her grip on her champagne flute, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to break through her carefully constructed mask. Anger, anxiety, and—damn it—a flicker of something far more dangerous.

She refused to let him rattle her.

With the same confidence that had built Calloway Tech into an empire, Isla crossed the ballroom, ignoring the subtle stares from industry insiders who could sense the tension in the air.

This was not just a business rivalry.

This was something personal.

She reached him, stopping a mere breath away. Lucas turned toward her fully, the smirk still in place, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Isla Calloway," he said, his voice smooth and rich, laced with an amusement that made her fingers itch to slap it away. "I was wondering when you’d finally say hello."

Her lips curled into a polite but sharp smile. "I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms, Reyes."

Lucas took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving hers. "Oh, we’re far past speaking terms, Isla. I think we’ve moved straight to war, don’t you?"

She arched a brow. "War? Is that what you call a pathetic attempt to get my attention?"

His smirk widened. "I don’t need to fight for your attention, Calloway. You’ve been thinking about me ever since you saw my name on that takeover bid."

Isla’s patience snapped.

"Cut the games, Lucas," she said, voice firm but controlled. "We both know why I’m here. You came out of nowhere, targeting my company, my work. You don’t move like someone who’s just interested in competition. This feels personal."

Lucas studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Oh, it’s personal," he murmured. "But I’d love to see you figure out why."

His words sent a cold shiver down her spine, but Isla refused to let him see the way they affected her.

Before she could fire back, a small, excited voice pierced through the air.

"Mama!"

The world stopped.

Every muscle in Isla’s body locked up as she turned toward the voice.

And her stomach dropped.

There, standing just a few feet away, was Leo.

Her son.

Her four-year-old, dark-haired, green-eyed son.

And Lucas Reyes was staring right at him.

Isla’s heartbeat roared in her ears.

No. No. No. This was not how he was supposed to find out.

Leo, oblivious to the tension that had just shattered the room, beamed up at her. Dressed in a tiny black suit, his dark curls slightly tousled, he looked far too much like the man standing beside her.

Lucas’s entire demeanor changed in an instant.

The smirk disappeared. His drink stilled midair. His body tensed like he had been hit with a wrecking ball.

His gaze flickered from Isla to Leo, then back to her. The realization hit him like a tidal wave.

She could see it. The calculation. The slow unraveling of the truth.

Leo.

His son.

A child with his eyes. His face. His blood.

Isla barely had time to react before Leo ran up to her, completely unaware of the storm raging in the adults around him. He wrapped his small arms around her leg, smiling brightly.

"Ms. Nora said I could come find you! Can we go home now?"

Lucas inhaled sharply, his knuckles white around his glass. Isla swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to fix this, but there was no fixing it.

The secret she had kept for four years was now out in the open.

Lucas slowly set his drink down on the nearest table, his entire posture shifting into something unreadable. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet. Too quiet.

"Isla."

She forced herself to meet his gaze, dreading what she saw there.

Fury.

Betrayal.

Something deeper, something she didn’t yet understand.

Lucas exhaled slowly, as if steadying himself before delivering the blow.

"Is there something you’d like to tell me?"

The air in the ballroom was suffocating. Isla’s throat tightened, her body screaming at her to find a way out, to stop this before it got worse.

But there was no escape.

Lucas Reyes had walked into this gala prepared to take down Isla Calloway’s company.

Instead, he had discovered the one thing that could truly destroy her.

She had kept his son from him.

And nothing would ever be the same again.