The Reborn Heiress

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Chapter 5

The living room of the Adams Mansion was nearly three times the size of the Perez Villa.

Not the kind of wealth that tries too hard. Everything sat quietly where it belonged. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto a garden with a neatly trimmed lawn, and in the distance stood a few old trees with trunks so wide it would take two people to wrap their arms around them.

Tiffany pulled Elowen down onto the sofa, poured her a cup of herbal tea herself, and then started to cry.

Not sobbing. The crying you hold back.

Tiffany's tears fell one by one. She wiped them with the back of her hand, and fresh ones took their place.

"Elowen, these past eighteen years with the Perez family — were you okay? Did they treat you badly?"

Elowen held her teacup and didn't answer right away.

Before Abigail came back, things were actually fine. Vaughn and Hazel had raised her like their own daughter — the best of everything, whatever she wanted. Those fifteen years, she had been truly happy.

But after Abigail came back —

"That's all in the past." She smiled.

Tiffany looked at that smile, and her eyes went red again. She reached out and took Elowen's hand, said nothing, just held it.

Her palm was warm.

"Elowen, Mom won't let anyone hurt you anymore."

Elowen looked down at those hands and said nothing.

Ronnie came striding in from the dining room direction and dropped down beside her, leaning in with a lowered voice and a conspiratorial look on his face.

"Elowen, I bet you don't know yet — you have a fiancé."

Elowen's hand went still for a moment.

Tiffany swatted him: "What's wrong with you? You can't just blurt something like that out."

"Why not?" Ronnie shrugged and turned back to Elowen. "She's going to find out eventually. Better to just say it now."

Tiffany sighed, let go of Elowen's hand, and softened her tone.

"Your grandfather arranged this engagement. Both families agreed before you were even born. The Jacksons have been waiting all these years and have never shown any interest in calling it off."

She paused.

"Meet him once. If you like him, we'll go through with it. If you don't, we walk away. Mom's not making this decision for you — I won't let you get hurt."

A fiancé.

Elowen turned the word over in her mind.

She'd had a fiancé in her past life, too.

Joseph Miller. The eldest son of the Miller family, old friends of the Perezes. Good-looking, smooth-talking, and good at seeming warm and caring at just the right moments. She'd grown up with him and thought he liked her — thought he was the one thing she had left after she lost everything in the Perez family.

Then, the night before she died, Abigail told her he had proposed to her the night before.

A three-carat diamond ring caught the light of a streetlamp and threw a blinding glare. That was one of the last things Elowen saw in her past life.

"Which Jackson family?" she asked. Her voice was calm.

Tiffany and Ronnie exchanged a look.

"Killian Jackson," Ronnie said, completely matter-of-fact, like he was saying the most ordinary name in the world. "The eldest son."

The fingers Elowen had wrapped around her cup tightened slightly.

The Jackson family occupied a category of their own in Wynterhaven and across the entire business world. Their assets were too large to put an accurate number on, and their reach was global. The Adams family sat at the very top of their circle — but next to the Jacksons, they were still one step below.

"His temper's a bit rough, but his character is solid. He doesn't mess around with women — that much I can vouch for." Ronnie leaned back against the sofa.

"What are you vouching for?" Tiffany shot him a look. "You've known him, what, a few years?"

"I've always been a good judge of people."

Elowen didn't join in. She just quietly took another sip of her tea.

She didn't feel strongly against this arrangement. She didn't feel drawn to it either.

In her past life, she had handed her fate to Joseph, and she'd ended up dying with no one to even claim her body. This time, whoever was on the other side of this, she wasn't going to stake her future on any one person again.

Not even if it was the Jackson family.

That evening, Ronnie drove her out.

They moved through the city, neon lights sliding across the windows. Elowen leaned back in the passenger seat and watched the unfamiliar streets go by.

"Have you changed your name yet?" Ronnie asked out of nowhere.

"Not yet."

"Do it." His tone was casual but carried a quiet certainty that didn't leave much room for debate. "Elowen Adams sounds better than Elowen Perez."

Elowen didn't argue.

Elowen Adams.

She said it quietly in her head and was a little surprised by how naturally it fit.

"I'm taking you to meet Killian." Ronnie's tone didn't shift at all, like he was telling her they were going to grab a bite.

"Tonight?"

"He's at Ironwood Club." Ronnie had one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road. "You're going to meet him sooner or later. Better to get it over with."

Elowen didn't say no.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of a building that was entirely black.

Ironwood Club. The most exclusive private members' club in Wynterhaven — so low-key it had almost no signage at all. Only the polished valets out front and the row of eight-figure cars gave away what the place really was.

A valet opened the door. "Mr. Adams. Mr. Jackson is waiting for you in the top-floor private room."

Ronnie tossed him the keys and walked in with Elowen.

The elevator walls were all mirrors.

Elowen looked at her reflection — hair loose over her shoulders, something cool and distant in her face. Her almond-shaped eyes tilted up slightly at the outer corners, a natural curve to them, so that even without a smile, she looked like she was holding something back.

Back at the Perez Villa, Abigail used to say her face was improper. That she looked like a woman who couldn't be trusted. Those eyes were seductive.

Elowen had believed it for a long time.

Long enough that she stopped being able to look at mirrors.

Now she looked at herself, and it finally clicked. Abigail said those things because this face was simply too beautiful.

Beautiful enough to feel like a threat.

The elevator chimed. Top floor.

The hallway was lined with dark, patterned carpet and low, steady lighting. Not a sound when you walked.

Ronnie went ahead. Elowen followed a step behind. They had just turned a corner when voices drifted out from the private room ahead.

"Mr. Jackson, your fiancée still isn't here? Don't tell me it's another fake. That woman last time who claimed to be the Adams family's biological daughter gave you enough trouble."

Another voice laughed. "Right? The Adams family has been running this find-the-lost-daughter story for eighteen years now. Who knows if this one's real, either. Could be another one trying to climb up."

A brief silence.

Then a low voice — unhurried, with a trace of indifference.

"We'll see when she gets here. If she's a fake, just send her away."

A one-second pause.

"Besides, I never took this engagement seriously to begin with."

The voice wasn't loud, but the hallway was quiet. Every word came through clean.

Ronnie stopped dead.

His shoulders went rigid. The muscle along his jaw pulled tight, like he was holding something in.

Then he raised his foot and kicked the door open.

The heavy wooden door slammed into the wall. The sound cracked through the room. Every head inside turned at once.

Four or five young men sat on a curved sofa. In the center was a man in a black suit.

He was half-reclined, spine straight, carrying an air of cool detachment that seemed out of place in a room like this. At the sound of the door, he only raised his eyes slightly, glancing toward the entrance with complete calm.

Then his gaze landed on the person standing behind Ronnie.

It landed and didn't move.

Ronnie walked in, voice flat and cold. "Killian. What did you just say?"

Killian didn't answer him.

His eyes moved slowly across Elowen's face. In those dark, unreadable eyes, the indifference that had been there a moment ago was shifting, something stirring in the depths, slowly rising to the surface.

Elowen stood in the doorway and met his gaze for a moment.

Just one moment. Then she looked away.

"Ronnie, let's go." Her voice was even. "I never intended to go through with this engagement anyway."

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