River's POV

~One Year Later~

I woke up again, breathless, my skin warm and tingling, my heart racing like I had just run a mile. The dream was the same one I'd been having all week-Killian, close to me, his voice low and soft in my ear.

His hands on my waist, his lips brushing against mine. It was so vivid that I could almost feel it, like a memory instead of a dream. I turned my face into the pillow and groaned.

This was getting ridiculous. I was beginning to see him even when I closed my eyes. I couldn't explain it...this constant heat that followed me everywhere, creeping into my thoughts, making it impossible to think of anything else.

But today wasn't the day to get lost in daydreams. Today was important. I had a big meeting at the firm...my chance to pitch a proposal that could shift our entire strategy.

I needed to stay focused and grounded. I slipped out of bed, trying to shake the fog out of my mind, and headed downstairs to get a cup of coffee, hoping it would steady my nerves.

But the moment I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

Killian was standing by the counter, a towel wrapped low around his waist, water still dripping from his hair, sliding down his chest. 

His back was half-turned, muscles shifting with every small movement. His body was all smooth strength...broad shoulders, firm chest, and toned arms. I'd seen him dressed up, casual, or even in gym clothes, but never like this.

Never just skin, fresh from a shower, steam still curling around him like mist. I stared before I could stop myself, my breath catching in my throat. My cheeks burnt, and my whole body felt warm.

I didn't mean to look, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. My gaze dropped to the line of his hip, where the towel barely hung on, and I felt something stir deep inside me. I imagined what it would feel like to touch him, to feel his skin against mine.

A sudden shiver ran through me, uninvited and unstoppable.

And then he turned.

Our eyes met, and I froze like a deer caught in headlights. "Do you need anything?" he asked, voice calm, low, and kind...but there was something behind it, a quiet knowing, like maybe he had seen me looking.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to speak. "I came to get a cup... of coffee," I said, stumbling over the words like I had suddenly forgotten how to form them.

"I know how tense you are. Big day," he said gently, walking toward the machine. "Just sit. I'll make you one."

I nodded and walked stiffly to the dining table, lowering myself into the chair like I didn't trust my knees to hold me. It had been a year and 6 months with Killian now, and everything about him had been steady and safe.

He never crossed the line. Never made me feel uncomfortable. We had boundaries, clear ones. Separate rooms. Respect. Space. But he was there when I needed him. Always. He took Alora out with us on weekends.

He kept every promise in the contract. But now I couldn't stop wondering what it would feel like if we ever stepped outside those lines, maybe just a one-time thing.

"Don't be tense, River. You can do this. We've come a long way, and this is the time to take back what we've always wanted," Killian said, his voice calm and steady, like it always was when I needed it most.

He placed the cup of coffee in front of me, and as he leaned in, his body came so close I could feel the warmth from his skin and the faint scent of his cologne mixed with soap still clinging to him.

For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him, to stay there and forget everything else. Sometimes I felt like he did it on purpose...getting too close, being too gentle...like he wanted to see how much I could take before I gave in.

I let out a small laugh before I could stop myself. "What is it?" he asked, raising a brow like he had no idea what he was doing.

"It's nothing, Killian," I said, trying to hold back the smile tugging at my lips. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, and then just like that, he turned and left the room.

I stared after him, letting out a quiet breath. "He only made things worse by doing that," I muttered, then drank up my coffee and headed upstairs. After a warm shower, I stepped into the new red dress I had picked out for today.

It was sleek and form-fitting, with a high neckline and long sleeves, the fabric smooth and rich against my skin. It hugged my waist and flared slightly at the knees, elegant but bold...exactly how I needed to feel today.

Standing in front of the mirror, I packed my red hair into a bun and then I took a deep breath. "You can do this, River," I whispered, then left the room. I stopped by Alora's room. The nanny was already with her, and I leaned down to kiss her soft cheek.

"Mommy will be back soon," I whispered. As I walked out, I glanced back at the life I'd rebuilt-brick by quiet brick, with Killian by my side.

I didn't know what the day would bring, but I knew this much: I wasn't the woman they left behind.

Not anymore.

Through a close friend, Killian secured me the position at Derma's Groups, one of New York's top firms, and I'd climbed fast, proving myself again and again. Now, I was one of the board representatives for major strategic decisions.

Today, we were pitching for a high-value global merger...one that could change everything. And what made it even more thrilling was that Chitox Groups, Rowan's firm, was also in the running.

This wasn't just business. This was the beginning of the end for him. And the beginning of everything for me. I stepped out of the house and walked straight to my black SUV car.

I opened the door, slid into the driver's seat, and shut it behind me with a sharp thud. One glance in the mirror, one long breath, and I hit the gas. The city rushed by, but my mind was already at the office.

A few minutes later, I pulled into the office lot and stepped out. I stood still for a second, my chest rising slowly as I tried to breathe the nerves away.

I straightened my shoulders and walked in. Inside, the receptionist gave me a bright smile. "Good morning, Mrs River." I gave a small nod and kept walking, barely hearing the greetings around me.

My eyes locked on the elevator doors ahead like they were the only thing that mattered. I stepped inside, and right then, my phone buzzed. I looked down. 'Board meeting starts in 10 minutes.'

Perfect. Just enough time to remind myself why I couldn't afford to lose. My mind drifted where it always went when I didn't want it to...Rowan. I hadn't seen him in a year and 6 months, and I was sure he'd send someone.

He never faced his messes. "Rowan! The son of a bitch," I muttered, half-laughing to myself. "Too dumb to pitch his idea himself." Just before the elevator doors closed, I caught a shadow in my periphery. Then a voice, sharp as a blade.

"Who did you just call a son of a bitch?" My whole body locked up. My breath stopped.

No. It couldn't be.

Slowly, I looked up-and there he was.

Rowan.

The man who betrayed me. The man who watched me fall and never looked back. His eyes met mine, and for a second, something flickered in them. Shock? Regret? I couldn't tell.

He took off his sunglasses slowly, like he couldn't believe it either. My throat was dry, but I forced the words out. He stepped inside just as the elevator doors closed behind him.

I didn't blink. I didn't flinch.

"Do I... know you?" I asked, voice calm and cold. He stared at me, completely still. Like I had slapped him without lifting a hand. And as the elevator climbed, so did the silence.

Rowan stood beside me, a little too close, like he wanted to make sure I felt the weight of his presence. He hadn't changed much...still sharp in his suit, still smug in that quiet, arrogant way.

"Well," he said, finally breaking the silence, his voice low and thick with mockery. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you here... not after everything that happened." 

I kept my eyes forward, jaw tight, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. He chuckled under his breath. "Still pretending to be strong, huh? Still trying to act like you belong in this world."

I turned my head slightly. "I do belong here. Just like you. Maybe even more." Rowan scoffed. "You think one little board seat makes you powerful? Please, River."

"You were nothing before me, and you're even less now. You're just trying to stay afloat in a game you don't understand." I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palm.

"You ruined me," I said quietly. "You left me to rot while you moved on like it meant nothing." He leaned in closer, voice dripping with venom.

"Because it meant nothing. You were the weak link."

"I did what I had to do, and you... well, you got what you deserved." I blinked, forcing the tears back. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You really think you'll win this deal?" He went on, laughing. "You think they'll give that contract to a woman fresh out of a scandal, one with a prison record and a broken reputation?"

"You're a joke, River. You always were." The elevator dinged, and the doors slowly slid open. I straightened my back, stepped out, and turned to look at him one last time.

"We'll see who's laughing when this is over."

River's POV

I sat at the far end of the long glass table, facing Rowan across the room. The boardroom was filled with quiet tension, the kind that settled deep in your chest.

Around us, the other representatives and board members murmured softly, flipping through notes and tapping on tablets. Rowan kept glancing at me, his jaw tight, his eyes sharp with that familiar sternness I once mistook for passion.

But I wasn't afraid of him anymore. Whatever power he once had over me had shattered the day I chose myself. I sat still, my fingers loosely laced together on the table, my back straight, my heart steady.

I wasn't here to crumble. I was here to win.

A voice cut through the quiet, pulling me from my thoughts. "Rowan Rune, you have the floor now to present your pitch for us," the president announced.

Rowan stood, smooth and confident, the way he always did when he believed the world belonged to him. He walked to the podium, his designer suit pressed to perfection, the projector lighting up beside him.

I watched him speak, watched his practiced smile and polished words fill the room. There was nothing wrong with the pitch, but there was nothing exceptional about it either.

He hadn't come prepared...not for this kind of deal. He was only here because he found out I was leading this presentation. I looked at the man I once thought I'd marry and wondered how I hadn't seen it before.

How I had missed the quiet cruelty in his voice, the way he made me feel small when no one else was watching. He returned to his seat, and then I heard my name.

I walked to the front of the boardroom with my head held high. I had gone over this pitch so many times I could say it in my sleep, but this moment-this room-was different.

It wasn't just about business for me. It was about standing tall in front of the man who once tried to break me and proving that I wasn't the woman he used to control. As I began to speak, the room shifted.

All eyes were on me, and I could feel the weight of their attention, but instead of making me nervous, it fuelled me. I spoke with purpose, with clarity, and with the quiet strength that had always been mine.

I explained the strategy behind my proposal, broke down the numbers, and painted the future I saw for their company if they partnered with us. I spoke like someone who believed in what she was offering, because I did.

When I finished, I bowed my head slightly in thanks, then walked back to my seat, my chest rising with a deep breath. Finally, the president cleared his throat. 

"We'll proceed with the vote now." Hands were raised for the first presenter...only a few. Then came Rowan. A handful more. And then mine. Almost every hand in the room went up. 

The applause came slowly at first, then louder, as people stood to shake my hand and congratulate me. I smiled, not just from relief but from joy...deep, undeniable joy. 

Rowan didn't move. He just sat there, silent, his face tight and unreadable. I met his eyes, and for once, I didn't look away. He didn't clap. He didn't smile.

I could see the bitterness in his face, the kind of defeat he wasn't used to tasting. Eventually, the room began to clear out. I returned to my seat, gathering my notes and slipping them into my bag, ready to leave, when I heard footsteps approach.

"Congratulations, River Hayes," Rowan said, his voice laced with mockery. I turned slightly, watching his eyes flicker to my hand.

"Oh," he said, nodding toward the ring on my finger, "you're married, I see."

"Yes," I answered with a calm smile. "To the most handsome and most supportive man ever." Rowan laughed under his breath, but there was no real humour in it.

"You used to say you couldn't live without me. And now you're suddenly with another man?" I zipped my bag and turned to face him fully.

"People grow, Rowan. Some of us grow out of toxicity."

He took a step closer, voice low and sharp. "Don't think winning this deal means you've got everything," he added. "You just got lucky." 

"At least I have some luck left in me. Where did you drop yours?" He didn't answer. I could tell it stung. That proud look he always wore was cracking. He hated losing.

"Well", I said as I lifted my bag over my shoulder, "this is just the beginning, Rowan. I have more surprises for you. And I promise, you'll be shocked."

I turned to leave, but his hand gripped my arm tightly, stopping me in place. "You don't walk out on me, River," he said low, almost through gritted teeth. "I'm not done talking."

I turned slowly, my eyes hard. "Get your filthy hands off me, Rowan. You don't touch a married woman like that. Where are your manners?" He released me, but his eyes burnt with anger.

"And let me remind you," I added, my voice sharp, "I don't belong to you anymore. You hear me?" And with that, I walked out, the door clicking shut behind me.

As soon as I stepped into my office, the sound of cheering filled the air. My team rushed toward me, their faces glowing with pride and excitement. They clapped, shouted my name, and pulled me into warm hugs, one after the other.

I looked around at the people who had worked beside me, believed in me, and supported me, and my heart filled with gratitude. When the room finally settled down, I returned to my chair, sinking into it slowly.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment, silently thanking God for guiding me through today. The high from the win hadn't worn off, but work still waited, and I had no plans of slowing down.

I opened my laptop again and got to work, making sure everything was in place for the next day. By the time I glanced at the clock, it was almost 7pm.

My shoulders ached slightly, and my eyes were heavy, but I kept going. Killian always told me to take breaks and reminded me that I didn't have to push so hard, but I couldn't help it.

I had goals and dreams I needed to reach, and to do that, I had to stay moving. Eventually, I packed up my things and headed home, knowing he'd probably seen the news already.

But I still wanted to tell him myself. I always did. Around Killian, I turned into someone softer, sillier-like a child with too many stories to tell.

I loved the way he listened to everything, even the little things that didn't matter, and never made me feel like I was talking too much. As I walked into the house, there he was. Killian.

Sitting on the couch in a white shirt that clung to his chest, sleeves pushed up, his eyes soft but intense as they met mine. He stood up the second he saw me, his smile slow and warm, and I couldn't hold back.

I dropped my bag and rushed into his arms, burying my face into his chest. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you for helping me do this."

He held me close, his arms firm around me, and the scent of his cologne filled my lungs, pulling me in deeper. I looked up at him, and something shifted in the air.

The way he was looking at me, the way my heart was pounding-I couldn't stop myself. I leaned in and kissed him deeply, fully, like I'd been waiting all day for this.

He didn't hesitate. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and his mouth moved with mine, slow at first, then with a growing hunger. His hands traced the sides of my body, soft but firm.

The tension built so quickly I could hardly breathe. His touch sparked something dangerous in me...a craving I hadn't let myself feel in years and if I didn't stop, I knew we wouldn't. I pulled away, breathless, my cheeks warm.

"I'm sorry, Killian... I shouldn't have done that; I was just too excited," I said, covering my face with a shy smile. He looked down at me, his thumb brushing my cheek. "It's fine, River."

But the way his eyes stayed on my lips told me he didn't want me to stop. "We should celebrate," I said, breaking the silence between us, the words slipping out before I could think them through.

"Yeah, we should," Killian replied with a soft smile that reached his eyes. "But we don't have drinks," he added, checking the time. 

"Why don't you freshen up while I grab something quick from down the road?" Then, just like that, he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to my forehead. 

It wasn't rushed-it lingered, tender and intimate...and by the time he pulled away and walked out, my whole body felt like it had been set on fire.

I ran upstairs, heart racing, closing the door behind me as if I could lock in all the feelings rising like a wave. I laughed softly to myself and buried my face in my hands.

"I shouldn't have done that," I whispered, my voice shaky with a thrill I didn't want to admit out loud. I undressed slowly before stepping into the shower and letting the water run hot over my body.

But even as the steam surrounded me, I couldn't wash away the ache in my core. I hadn't had sex since Rowan. But with Killian, the hunger felt sharp, like it had been sleeping and was suddenly wide awake.

When I stepped out, my red hair clung to my shoulders, dripping water onto the floor as I wrapped myself in a towel. I stood still for a moment, letting the steam fade, but then I heard the doorbell ring.

Killian wouldn't ring the bell. So I quickly slipped into my red lace nightgown, which hugged my skin, soft and light, with nothing underneath. I felt almost too bare, too vulnerable.

But I told myself it might just be the delivery guy because I had ordered something earlier. I rushed downstairs barefoot, not wanting to keep the person waiting. I opened the door with a quick smile already on my lips.

But it fell.

And the air froze in my lungs.

There, standing in front of me, was the last person I ever expected to see on my doorstep.

Rowan.

His eyes swept over my body slowly, dark and unreadable, then settled on my face. His lips curled into a smirk, sharp and familiar.

"Well, looks like I came at the perfect time."

River's POV

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice trembling despite how hard I tried to steady it. He didn't answer me. Instead, his eyes dragged over me slowly, deliberately.

"Nice dress," he said, voice smooth like silk soaked in venom. "Too bad you're wearing it for the wrong man." Before I could stop him, he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside like he belonged.

"Hey" I stumbled back, caught between fear and confusion. "You can't just walk in here." My breath hitched as I backed up, one hand clutching the soft fabric of my nightwear close to my chest.

There was something unhinged about him, the way he moved without blinking, the way he looked at me like he had a right to. I didn't know what version of Rowan I was dealing with.

One minute he acted like I was nothing. The next, he stared at me like I belonged to him. What was wrong with him? Where was my phone? I glanced around quickly, trying to remember where I'd left it.

Killian wasn't home. Thank God. It would have been a war between two brothers. "You have to leave now," I said, louder this time.

"If my husband comes back and sees you here..." I let the warning hang between us, hoping he didn't see the tremor behind it. He gave me a sharp look, his smile thin and mocking.

"Oh, I'd love to meet your husband. Tell him all about the kind of woman he married." I tilted my head slightly, watching him, waiting for the insult I knew was coming. But it didn't.

He didn't say anything else, just stood there like a bitter ghost clinging to a life that had already left him behind. "Celebrating your wins tonight, aren't you?" he asked, his tone suddenly darker.

"I bet he's looking forward to it. I bet you are too."

"That's none of your business, Rowan," I snapped, backing away another step as he looked around, taking in the apartment like he was judging it-or maybe memorising it. "Just leave. Now."

He chuckled, running his fingers along the table's edge. "You have a beautiful home," he said before turning his eyes back to me, and this time they held something different. Something colder.

He moved toward me, not quickly, but with purpose. I stepped back instantly, every instinct in my body telling me something was wrong. His stare was too direct, his body too tense, like he wasn't here just to talk.

Suddenly a cry rang out from upstairs.

Sharp. Loud. My baby.

My heart leapt into my throat, and for a second, I froze. Rowan's head turned slowly toward the sound. His eyes narrowed, his whole body going still.

"Is that a baby?" he asked, voice low. I didn't answer. I stepped slightly in front of him, as if my body could block his questions. My fingers tightened around the fabric of my robe, the sound of my baby crying tearing into me.

He tilted his head, watching me closely. "That's the same baby I saw you with at my wedding, isn't it?" he said, his voice sharper now. "Oh... the bastard child you almost pinned on me."

His words cut through me like a blade. I felt my chest burn, my mouth open, but I held the scream inside. He gave a small, cruel smile. "Is he raising her like she's his? Poor guy."

I didn't flinch. Not this time. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'm glad she's not your child, Rowan." Something shifted in his face then.

The smirk faded, just for a second, replaced by something colder. My baby cried again, louder now, and I stepped back. "You need to leave," I said quietly.

"If you don't leave right now, I'll call the police," I warned, my voice low but serious. "You're not welcome here. This is my home."

He paused then, his eyes narrowing as he looked around once more like he was searching for something...Killian, maybe, or a reason to stay longer.

"Fine," he said at last, straightening his suit like this had all been part of some business meeting. I walked quickly to the door, opened it, and held it wide, not saying a word.

He walked past me without a second glance, but just before he crossed the threshold, he turned his head and gave me a look I couldn't quite name...something between warning and regret.

Then he was gone.

I locked the door and leaned against it, letting the cool surface press into my back as I tried to calm my racing heart. My hands were still shaking, and my breathing came in uneven waves, like my body hadn't yet realised the danger was over.

Rowan was gone, and the silence he left behind was louder than his voice had ever been. I stayed there for a long moment, eyes closed, listening to the stillness, needing it to feel real.

When I finally pushed away from the door, my legs felt heavy, almost numb. I walked slowly to the couch and lowered myself onto it, sinking into the cushions like they could hold all the fear still wrapped around me.

The room felt colder somehow, even with all the lights on, like his presence had stolen the warmth and left behind something sharp and uncomfortable.

How had he found me? What did he want this time? He already ruined what we had, destroying the pieces I tried so hard to hold together. Was it not enough for him? Did he want more?

Those questions swirled in my mind, circling one another without answers. I rubbed my arms slowly, trying to warm myself, trying to stop the shiver that kept running up my spine.

The sound of the front door opening made me jump. My head snapped up, heart thudding again as I turned toward the sound.

But it was Killian.

He stepped inside with a bottle of wine in his hand and a soft smile playing at his lips, the kind he gave me after a long day. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair a little messy like he'd been running his fingers through it.

"Hey," he said gently as he closed the door behind him. "You okay?"

His voice was warm, low, and filled with concern. I opened my mouth to answer, to lie, to tell him it was nothing, that I was fine now, that he didn't need to worry. 

He looked like comfort. Like home. The sight of him cracked something in my chest...but the bruises on his knuckles sealed it shut again. His knuckles were bruised, red and scraped like they'd met skin or bone. 

I stared at them, the breath catching in my throat before I could speak. Then he glanced at the door...quickly, too quickly, like his eyes moved before he could stop them.

That's when it hit me.

He already knew.

He knew Rowan had been here.