Chapter 5

"Don't scare your sister," Enlyan’s voice turned firm, making Joxan close his mouth immediately.

She exhaled softly and said, "I'll call Mini once we’re out of the airport. We’ll stay at her place for a few days."

"Okay," Joxan mumbled under his breath, clearly distracted.

Just then, his eyes caught sight of a man in the crowd. His figure was strikingly familiar—tall, imposing, and exuding a cold aura that could be felt even from a distance. The resemblance was undeniable. That had to be Damian Blackwood.

His… biological father?

Joxan’s gaze flickered toward Enlyan, who was busy searching for a contact on her phone. Without hesitation, he clutched his stomach and groaned dramatically.

"Oh, Mommy! My belly hurts! I need to use the restroom!"

Enlyan immediately looked down, alarmed to see him clutching his stomach so tightly his face was turning red. His legs rubbed together as if he was really in distress.

"Mommy will take you. Jes, stay here, okay? I’ll be right back."

She bent down to pick him up, but Joxan suddenly bolted.

"No need! I can’t hold it! Wait for me—I’ll be back soon!" He yelled before sprinting off.

Enlyan sighed, shaking her head in amusement.

Jessica, however, watched her brother run with knowing eyes. "Mommy, brother is definitely up to something," she muttered.

Enlyan chuckled and patted her daughter’s head. "You little spy. You’re really sharp, aren’t you?"

She then turned her attention back to her phone.

"Mini, it’s me—Enlyan. I’m back."

The voice on the other end squealed with excitement.

"Enlyan! When did you arrive? I’ll take the day off and pick you up. Are you at the airport?"

"No need to come. I’m with the kids. We’ll just take a taxi to your place," Enlyan reassured her as she started walking.

In her distraction, she suddenly collided with someone.

"Ah, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking—" she looked up mid-apology, only for her voice to catch in her throat.

Her heartbeat stuttered.

Thump. Thump.

It was him.

Damian Blackwood.

Her ex-husband.

Of all places, of all times—what a cruel twist of fate!

Damian spotted her from a distance, and his entire body tensed. The way she walked, the way she carried herself—it was exactly like her.

He couldn't stop himself. He moved forward, deliberately bumping into her.

Ertha, standing nearby, was utterly stunned. He had never seen Damian take the initiative to approach a woman, not once in the past five years. After his wife's accident, he had become an iceberg, radiating an aura so cold that people instinctively kept their distance. Yet now, he had willingly walked toward a stranger.

Ertha’s gaze shifted to the woman, and for a moment, he was spellbound. She was breathtakingly beautiful, as if sculpted by the hands of an artist. But it wasn’t just her beauty—there was something else. A presence. A familiarity.

Damian, too, was momentarily dazed. But he quickly snapped out of it, his expression hardening as he took a step back.

"Watch where you're going," he said coldly.

Enlyan sneered inwardly. Watch where I'm going?

If only he knew the pain she had endured—how she had nearly drowned in the ocean, how her face had been slashed by debris, how sea creatures had gnawed at her skin as she fought to survive. If only he knew how she had suffered through nine months of agony to bring her child into this world before undergoing countless reconstructive surgeries to erase the past.

How many nights had she woken up from nightmares, her pillow soaked with tears?

And now, the man responsible for all of it was standing right in front of her.

Her fingers curled into fists. A sharp, seething hatred boiled within her. She wanted to rip his face apart, tear open his chest, and see if he even had a heart.

But instead, she smiled.

The lollipop in her hand—one Joxan had been eating earlier—had smeared against his pristine suit when they collided. Seizing the opportunity, she tilted her head and said,

"Oh no, I really didn’t see you just now. Your suit is ruined. Can I have your number? I’ll buy you a new one and send it to you."

Her voice was deliberately low and hoarse, carrying a sultry undertone.

For a brief moment, something flickered in Damian’s eyes. Not her.

Neither her face nor her voice matched his late wife’s.

He had memorized every detail of Enlyan—the warmth of her gaze, the sweetness of her laughter, the way her voice used to ring with clarity. But this woman… her voice was rougher, different. To most, it might be seductive. But to him? It was foreign.

His heart clenched, then turned cold once more.

"Not necessary. It’s just a suit."

Without hesitation, he stripped off his jacket and tossed it into the nearby trash can, right in front of her—as if it were nothing more than a piece of garbage.

Jessica clung to Enlyan’s dress, watching the man warily.

Damian’s gaze landed on the little girl. Something about her struck a nerve. Her delicate features, those eyes… she looked familiar. Almost too familiar.

But when he shifted his gaze back to Enlyan, an inexplicable emotion gripped him—one he couldn't quite place.

Enlyan’s lips curled slightly.

So, in his eyes, she was just another woman trying to get his attention? The thought was almost laughable.

How predictable.

Perfect.

She could play that game.

She watched his retreating figure with a sneer. If only he knew who she really was.

Soon, Damian Blackwood, we’ll meet again.

And this time, it won’t be as your lost wife.

This time, she was stepping into his world as a designer—a professional he would have to sit across from and negotiate with.