Yvette Jennings' POV
The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in my high-rise office as I reviewed the quarterly reports on the Jennings Corporation's global expansion. Numbers were stable. Profits strong. As always.
But my mind... it wandered. Again.
Where are you, Owen?
Even with the divorce finalized months ago, his shadow haunted my days more than I wanted to admit. I kept telling myself I was free, that he ant nothing, but... my hand always paused when his na showed up in old internal mos. And today was no different.
Just as I leaned back in my chair, the glass doors opened without warning—sothing only one man dared to do.
"Grandfather?" I stood up instantly. "You could have called."
Alex Jennings. The lion of our family. Once the king of empires, still sharper than most n in their pri despite his age. He walked in with that signature cane and twinkle in his eye that usually ant trouble.
"I don't need to call when I'm walking into my granddaughter's own building," he said with that regal smile. "Besides, I'm here on important business."
I raised an eyebrow. "Corporate?"
"Personal."
I blinked. "Personal?"
He nodded, then casually dropped a bombshell as if he were discussing dinner plans.
"I've decided. I want to adopt Owen as my godson."
My hand froze mid-reach for the coffee. "...What?"
"If I can't have that fine young man as a grandson-in-law," he said, chuckling, "then I'll make him my godson. At least that way, he'll still be part of our family."
I stared at him. Absolutely stunned.
"Grandfather... you're making Owen my uncle?!"
He grinned. "Technically, yes."
"Unacceptable!" I slamd the tablet on the table, unable to hold back.
Alex raised an amused brow. "Is it really unacceptable, or are you just afraid of what this says about your... obsession?"
My jaw tightened. "What obsession?"
He leaned on his cane, voice calm, but piercing. "You've been searching for that boy since the day he left. You track every sighting. You have your assistants working full-ti off-the-record to look for him. You read every report about Yates family movents. So I ask again—through what obsession do you want him?"
"I want answers," I said quickly. Too quickly.
"Lies don't suit you, Yvette."
I clenched my fists. The office suddenly felt a little too warm.
"I don't care what you think," I snapped. "But making him my uncle? Grandfather, we were married. We—slept together. Are you even thinking about how inappropriate that is?"
He smirked. "And now he's divorced. What does that make it? Complicated? Yes. But not uncommon. Blood doesn't bind you two, only pride and mistakes."
I paced in frustration, feeling the weight of a hundred mories slam into . Nights in silence. Argunts. That stupid day I found the papers. His signature. How he walked away without a word.
"He's not so stray puppy for you to bring into the family just because you're fond of him," I muttered.
Alex chuckled. "But he is sothing, isn't he? You won't admit it. You wear your pride like armor, Yvette. But I see the cracks."
I turned to him slowly, anger and confusion swirling inside .
"If you think this will push into chasing him again, you're wrong."
He nodded solemnly. "I'm not asking you to chase. I'm telling you: if you're going to fight for him, fight with clarity. Know what he ant to you, and what you did to him. Because right now? He's slipping away."
That hit harder than it should have.
I exhaled slowly, folding my arms. "You still think he's alive?"
"I know he is," he said, eyes sharp. "And I know he's changed. Whether or not he'll still accept us... depends on what you do next."
I turned to the window, watching the distant skyline blur through the fog.
Uncle Owen...?
Ridiculous.
But deep down... I feared he might never co back, and if I lost him again—not to death, but to distance and silence—no title would matter.
And no title would fix what I broke.
"Grandfather," I said after a long silence. "Don't finalize anything yet."
He smirked knowingly. "Take your ti, Yvette. Just don't take forever."
Then he left, his footsteps echoing like fading thunder as the doors closed behind him.
And I stood there.
Conflicted.
Because part of wanted to scream...
And the other part?
Wanted to find him more than ever.
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