Chained by our past

Chapter 4

The moment Isla Calloway locked eyes with Lucas Reyes, she felt the air shift.

Everything around her—the dazzling ballroom, the hum of conversation, the flash of crystal chandeliers—blurred into the background. He was all she could see.

His smirk was slow, deliberate. Dangerous.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the changes time had carved into his face. He was sharper now, colder—his features edged with something lethal. His dark hair was neatly styled, his jawline dusted with the same hint of stubble she remembered, but his eyes…

Those piercing green eyes were the exact ones she saw every day when she looked at her son.

Isla forced herself to inhale slowly, steadying the chaos inside her. She had prepared for this moment the entire drive to the gala. She knew this confrontation was inevitable.

But she hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

Lucas was no longer just the man from Paris.

He was now the man who could destroy everything.

And as she stared at him, his gaze flickered past her—to Leo.

A small, smiling boy with dark curls and green eyes that were unmistakably his.

Lucas’s smirk vanished. His entire body stiffened. The drink in his hand froze mid-air.

Isla saw it happen—the realization crashing through him like an earthquake.

And in that moment, she knew she had lost control of everything.

Lucas had walked into this gala with one goal—to destroy Isla Calloway.

For years, he had plotted his revenge, sharpening his company, his mind, and his resources like a blade meant to cut through her empire. He had been patient, methodical. He had waited for the perfect moment to strike where it hurt the most.

But nothing had prepared him for this.

For the child standing beside her.

A child who had his eyes. His face. His blood.

He felt the ground tilt beneath him. A roaring filled his ears, drowning out the laughter and chatter of the room. He saw Isla move, saw her body tense, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the little boy looking up at her with trust, with love.

With his damn eyes.

The realization struck like a thunderclap.

She had kept this from him.

For four years.

Lucas forced himself to breathe, though every muscle in his body was tight with restrained fury.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Too quiet. Dangerous.

"Isla."

She turned to him slowly, as if she knew that whatever happened next would change everything.

Lucas set his drink down with precision, his jaw tightening as he took a slow step forward.

"Would you like to explain?" His voice was steady, but beneath it lay a storm.

Isla’s spine straightened, her CEO mask snapping into place. She was always composed. Always in control. But not now.

Now, she hesitated.

And that hesitation shattered something inside him.

"Lucas—"

"How old is he?" he cut her off, his voice like steel.

Isla swallowed. Her eyes flickered to Leo for the briefest moment before she answered.

"Four."

Lucas’s entire world tilted.

Four years.

For four years, she had kept this from him.

Four years, and she had never called. Never told him.

She had stolen his son from him.

The realization sent a wave of rage and something dangerously close to devastation crashing through him.

"You knew," he said, his voice like ice. "You knew who I was this entire time."

She held his gaze. "I didn’t know at first," she admitted, her voice softer now. "Not until later. And by then…"

"By then, you decided to keep him from me," Lucas finished, his tone sharp.

Isla exhaled, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "I made the choice that was best for him."

The choice that was best for him.

Lucas let out a humorless laugh. "That’s rich, Isla. You decided for him? For me?"

A tense silence stretched between them. The world around them moved on—people laughing, drinking, dancing—completely unaware of the war brewing between the two of them.

Isla’s expression hardened. "I don’t have to justify my choices to you."

Lucas took another step closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.

"You don’t have a choice anymore, Isla. He’s my son, and I’m not going anywhere."

Before she could respond, Leo tugged on her dress. "Mama?"

Isla snapped out of the battle brewing between them, her gaze softening as she looked down at her son. "Yes, sweetheart?"

Leo glanced between them, his little brows furrowed. "Who’s that?"

Lucas felt the air in his lungs leave him.

His son didn’t even know who he was.

That realization cut deeper than anything else.

Isla hesitated, but before she could speak, Lucas crouched to Leo’s level. His heart pounded, but his voice was steady.

"I’m Lucas," he said, studying every feature of the boy who was his own flesh and blood.

Leo blinked up at him, his green eyes bright with curiosity. "Are you Mama’s friend?"

Lucas’s gaze flickered up to Isla. She tensed.

No, Leo. I’m not your mother’s friend.

I’m your father.

But he didn’t say it. Not yet.

Instead, he offered a small, careful smile. "Something like that, kid."

Leo grinned. "You have the same eyes as me."

Lucas’s breath caught. Yes. Yes, I do.

And for the first time that night, the fury inside him cooled just enough for something else to break through.

Something raw.

Something he wasn’t ready for.

But Isla? Isla saw it.

And she knew that this was just the beginning.

Because Lucas Reyes wasn’t going to walk away.