Love Beyond the Ashes

I stared down the long mahogany table at Christian Mitchell, my husband in name only and my most formidable business rival. His steel-gray eyes narrowed as I delivered the final blow to his latest acquisition attempt.

"The board has unanimously rejected your proposal to acquire Nexus Tech," I announced, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice. "Their innovation pipeline is far more valuable under Gardner Industries' development strategy than as another trophy in your collection, Christian."

The boardroom temperature seemed to drop several degrees as Christian loosened his tie—a telltale sign of his frustration that I'd come to recognize during our three years of marriage. Our relationship was a peculiar one: business enemies by day, reluctant lovers by night, and emotional strangers at all times.

"How predictable, Helena," he replied, his voice dangerously quiet. "You've always excelled at short-term victories without considering the long-term consequences."

I smiled thinly, gathering my documents as the other board members filed out, eager to escape the crossfire. "Unlike you, I don't need to consume companies whole to prove my worth. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a company to run."

As I walked past him, Christian caught my wrist, his touch sending an unwelcome current through my body. "This isn't over," he murmured, close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne. "Dinner tonight?"

I pulled away, hating how my pulse quickened. "I have plans with Father. Perhaps you should spend the evening reconsidering your acquisition strategy instead."

His soft chuckle followed me out the door. Another battle won in our endless war.

---

The Gardner mansion was unusually quiet when I arrived that evening. I found my father in his study, the room where he'd taught me everything about running the family empire. Tonight, however, something was different. He didn't rise to greet me, and the crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand was nearly empty.

"Father?" I asked, my earlier triumph fading at the sight of his troubled expression.

"Sit down, Helena," he said, gesturing to the leather chair across from him. "There's something I should have told you long ago."

A chill ran down my spine as I took my seat. In business, I'd learned that bad news was best delivered directly, but my father seemed to be struggling with his words.

"You're not my biological daughter," he finally said.

Five simple words. Five words that shattered twenty-eight years of identity in an instant.

"What?" I whispered, certain I'd misheard.

"Your mother and I adopted you when you were an infant." His voice was flat, emotionless. "We couldn't have children, and you were... available. We raised you as our own, gave you our name, our legacy."

My hands gripped the armrests as the room seemed to tilt around me. "Why are you telling me this now?"

He took another sip of whiskey, avoiding my eyes. "Because Reyna has returned."

"Reyna?" The name meant nothing to me.

"Reyna Gardner. My biological daughter."

I felt as though I'd been struck. "That's