Chasing Back My Billionaire Heiress

The past returns

The Past Returns

Grant's POV

The first time I saw her will always hold great significance. Not the way I would have liked, in some peaceful moment, some inadvertent touch of hands over a forgotten coffee order. No, tonight she was shining and was standing across the packed ballroom with Max Rivers at her side. My stomach fell and I felt the cold, deep ache that had accompanied me daily from the day she left my life.

This was not the lady I married, the woman I had taken for granted, discounted, and finally lost. That lady had disappeared. Someone hypnotic, polished, a force of nature in her place.

My breath seized in my throat when Eva Kingsley turned to grin at something Max murmured against her ear. Though my feet were fixed to the floor, I wanted to march across the room and demand her attention—beg, if I had to. I could only watch, regretful and with a weird, raw mix of jealousy and pride.

She turned suddenly and our eyes locked. Her laughing stopped, and for a fleeting second I saw something there—perhaps the ghost of an emotion or a flutter of identification. But just as fast, it vanished, replaced by a chilly apathy that twisted my guilt's knife more down.

Max dropped down and whispered once more into her ear. His hand brushed her arm in a way that made me want to run across the distance and free his hold on her. My body was moving, shutting the distance between us before I knew it.

"Eva."

Her name came to me like a whispered prayer. She pivoted, her gaze narrowing just so gently. Once so warm, that familiar spark now became harsh and sliced over me like glass.

"Oh, Grant," she answered deftly, hardly a flutter of feeling showing through. I did not expect to find you here.

"Neither did I.," My voice was steadier than I could have imagined. However, I'm pleased I did.

She slanted her head to think of me. That is so?

Taking a step forward, I added, "More than you can imagine." My mind was inundated with memories of how things ended between us, and for a moment I was back in that frigid room watching her go. "Your look... different."

"Difficult?" She laughed softly and without feeling. A year alters everything, I guess.

" It does not change everything."

Her eyes reflected a challenge once more as she looked at me. Doesn't it?

The ballroom's music swelled, drowning away the quiet that lay between us. Though I ignored Max, I could see his eyes fixed on me. Right now, it was just me and her; the apologies I had waited a year to offer were exactly what I had to say. But words felt weighty, awkward like sand slipping through my hands.

I managed, looking at Max, who shuffled uneasily, "I didn't expect you to be here with him."

Eva's stare became firm. "Max is a friend. Good friend."

"Is that all he is?" one wonders.

"Why do you care, Grant?" Her voice was quiet, even soothing, but the question struck harder than any charge. Our marriage is no longer whole. You picked that path.

The words passed right past me. She was correct, though; I had chosen based on ignorance, pride, and assumptions that today appeared so desperately stupid. Not essentially, but I hadn't known her then. And now, seeing her, this intelligent, confident lady, I felt the weight of every single error, every thoughtless comment, every contemptuous glance.

I answered silently, "I know." "I understand, Eva." I.

"Messed up" hardly captures it, does it? Her eyes were colder than I had ever seen, and her speech was harsh. "You handled me like...."

She trailed off, and for the first time, I sensed a flash of weakness, a break in her armour. She came together, raised her chin, and forbade me from seeing any more. Still, that was sufficient.

I started, desperate now, "Eva, please." "I made a mistake. I erred in all I did. You are really amazing.

She turned to walk away, "Save it."

Not once more, though, I could let her go. I stretched forward to grab her wrist and felt her familiar softness under my hand.

Eva, I am aware I do not merit your pardon. But I cannot carry on without giving you the truth.

She stopped, peering down at my hand on her wrist, then turned back up at me, her eyes a suspicious combination of curiosity and wrath.

Quietly dragging her arm away, she replied, "Fine." Two minutes abound.

I inhaled deeply and looked for the words. "I assumed you grasp my universe. That you were not interested in. You lacked the ambition, the drive, I assumed. But you... you're—"

"An heiress?" she interrupted, a sour smirk flickering on her lips. "A rich heiress arriving in your life as a nobody? You are here simply because you at last realize who I truly am.

"That's not true," I said, feeling my heart start to race. "It has no effect on my mood."

"Then why did you treat me like a second thought when Grant was 'nobody' to you?"

I found no response for that. Nothing devoid of hollow emptiness would sound. The truth was that I had been an arrogant fool, a man too fixated on his own ego to notice the rare, valuable woman right in front of him.

Her stride assured, as if she had left me far behind in more respects than one, she turned on her heel and headed toward the exit. I couldn't just let her leave though. Never again.

"Eva!," I phoned, my voice more acerb than I had meant. Her expression flat, unreadable, she stopped halfway to the door and turned back to me.

Desperately clutching at me, I said, "Just one chance." "Let me show I have changed."

I could see her contemplating her alternatives as she regarded me for a protracted, silent period. Max moved forward, though, his face a mix of annoyance and anxiety before she could respond.

"That's plenty, Grant," he replied, putting a shielding hand on her shoulder. "She does not need this from you. Neither now nor ever.

Eva looked between us and I could see the inner turmoil playing out in her eyes. She turned back to Max, though, and I knew by the little, appreciative smile she wore. I had vanished from her. Alternatively, I might have lost her long ago in that chilly, barren chamber where I had let her walk out of my life.

She whispered, "Goodbye, Grant," and her voice seemed to be a physical strike in finality. She turned then and left me alone in the ballroom, feeling as though I had been hollowed out, gutted.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I was ready to try to piece together the fragments of my pride. I looked down, and on my screen, a message from an unidentified number showed up. The words shivered down my spine.

You believe she is yours to retrieve? She is someone I know, and I am on her next trip. Leave; else you will pay the cost.

I raised my head, looking about the room for any indication of someone watching. But all I saw were familiar faces, people chatting and joking, unaware of the abrupt gloom that had fallen over my life.

My head racing, I turned without thinking and fled the ballroom. Whoever had delivered that note knew Eva, knew her secrets, and they were not only sitting on the sidelines watching. They intended to inflict damage on her. And I had to stop that.

Though I had committed terrible, unforgivable blunders, here was my second shot. Eva might despise me and might not let me ever enter her life again. I would be damned, though, if I watched someone else ruin her.

I vowed as I left into the cool evening air. Even if she never forgave me, I would defend her. Still, it meant jeopardizing everything.

Whoever this unidentified enemy was, they were out for blood rather than merely seeking her riches; they were closer than I could have dreamed.