The coffee burns my tongue, but I barely notice. My eyes are locked on the woman standing at the head of the conference room, and every cell in my body is screaming that this can't be happening. Olivia Chen. Ten years. Ten goddamn years since I last saw her face, and now she's here, in a power suit that probably costs more than my car, announcing that she's just acquired my company. "—excited to integrate Sterling Tech's innovative platform into the Chen Industries portfolio," she's saying, her voice smooth and professional, completely devoid of the warmth I remember. "I expect a seamless transition." Her eyes sweep across the room, pausing briefly on me before moving on without a flicker of recognition. Like I'm just another employee. Like she didn't once promise me forever in the back of my beat-up Honda Civic. My jaw clenches so hard I taste blood. "Mr. Sterling will remain as Director of Innovation," she continues, and now she's looking directly at me with those same dark eyes that used to look at me like I hung the moon. "I trust that won't be a problem, Ryan?" The use of my first name feels like a calculated strike. Everyone else got surnames and titles. I get familiarity wrapped in ice. "Of course not, Ms. Chen." I force the words out, matching her professional tone even though my heart is hammering against my ribs. "I'm committed to Sterling Tech's success, regardless of ownership." Something flashes across her face—so quick I almost miss it. Pain? Regret? But then it's gone, replaced by that impenetrable CEO mask. "Excellent. I'd like to meet with department heads individually this afternoon. Ryan, you're first. Two o'clock in my office." It's not a request. The meeting ends, and I watch her leave, her heels clicking against the marble floor with military precision. She doesn't look back. She never looks back. "Dude, you okay?" Marcus, my best friend and head of development, appears at my elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost." "Something like that," I mutter. "You know her? The Ice Queen?" Ice Queen. Is that what they're calling her? I guess it fits the woman I just saw. But it doesn't fit the girl who used to laugh at my terrible jokes, who'd stay up all night talking about our dreams, who'd kiss me like I was her entire world. "We went to college together," I say, which is technically true. It's also the understatement of the century. "No shit? What was she like back then?" Different. Everything. Mine. "It was a long time ago," I say instead. Marcus studies me for a moment, then whistles low. "Oh man. She's the one, isn't she? The girl who—" "Drop it, Marcus." He holds up his hands. "Dropped. But for what it's worth, this is some serious rom-com level fate intervention." "This isn't a rom-com. This is a nightmare." But even as I say it, I know it's more complicated than that. Because despite everything—despite the way she left, despite the years of silence, despite the fact that she's clearly pretending not to know me—seeing her again has woken something in me I thought I'd buried for good. At 1:55 PM, I stand outside what used to be my father's office. The nameplate already reads "Olivia Chen, CEO." That was fast. I knock. "Come in." She's behind the desk, reading something on her tablet. She doesn't look up immediately, and I wonder if this is a power play. The old Olivia would never play games like this. But the old Olivia wouldn't have left without a word, either. "Sit," she says, still not looking at me. I remain standing. "I'd rather not." That gets her attention. Her eyes snap to mine, and for just a second, I see her—really her. The girl behind the armor. Then it's gone. "Suit yourself." She sets down the tablet and leans back in her chair, studying me like I'm a particularly interesting specimen under a microscope. "Your work is impressive. The Sterling platform is exactly what Chen Industries needs to dominate the Asian market." "My father started this company from nothing. I'm not going to let you gut it for parts." "I don't gut companies, Mr. Sterling. I improve them." Her voice is sharp now, all business. "But I need to know if you can handle taking orders from me. If this is going to be a problem—" "You mean, can I handle working for the woman who ghosted me ten years ago?" The words are out before I can stop them. "Let's cut the bullshit, Olivia. I know you remember me." She goes very still. For a long moment, the only sound is the tick of the antique clock on the wall—my father's clock. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says finally, but her voice has lost some of its edge. I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Really? That's how you want to play this? Fine." I lean forward, planting my hands on the desk between us. "But here's the thing—I built the Sterling platform. You need me to make this acquisition work. So if we're going to do this, we're going to do it honestly. Acknowledge that you know me." "You're being inappropriate—" "I'm being honest. Something you apparently have trouble with." Her eyes flash with anger, and there it is—the fire I remember. "You want honesty? Fine. Yes, I remember you, Ryan Sterling. I remember everything. But that was a lifetime ago, and it has nothing to do with this." "Then why did you buy my company?" The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with ten years of unasked questions. "Because it was a sound business decision," she says, but she breaks eye contact. "Nothing more." "Liar." She stands abruptly, and we're suddenly too close, close enough that I can smell her perfume—something expensive and unfamiliar. The old Olivia wore drugstore vanilla. "This meeting is over," she says quietly. "You can see yourself out." But I don't move. Can't move. Because I'm seeing something I didn't expect—her hands are shaking. "Why did you leave?" I ask, my voice rough. "You owe me that much."