Chapter Twenty Nine
Daniel’s POV
Stanley left my office with that smug grin still plastered on his face. As the door clicked shut behind him, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Tasha. Here, in New York. Working on the very project I’ve invested into, Belvoir Couture. The irony was almost unbearable.
I thought she was gone for good. When she walked out of my life, there was no looking back. I was sure of it. Yet, here she is. In my city. After all these years, she’s back, and somehow, she managed to slip into my world again without even trying.
The memories flooded back the arguments, the misunderstandings, the slap. I never cared. I should have. But I was too caught up in the lies and manipulations of my past, too blind to see the truth in front of me. And then… she was gone, leaving me in the wreckage of our life, unable to fix what I had destroyed.
I picked up the desk phone, dialing my assistant. “Emma,” I said, my voice steady but my heart racing. ” Get me everything you can on Tasha.”
“Tasha?” she repeated, sounding.confused.
“Yes. Tasha from Belvoir Couture,” I confirmed.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. What kind of mother was she now? The thought hit me like a wave. She had left without a word, What had her life been like without me? And, most importantly, what would I do when I saw her again?
Emma walked into my office, her expression neutral as she handed me the file. “Here are the details on Tasha from Belvoir Couture,” she said quietly.
“Thank you, Emma,” I replied, dismissing her with a nod. As she left, I opened the file, flipping through the papers until I saw the name printed across the top Tasha Taylor.
“Taylor?” I muttered to myself. The name nagged at my memory. It clicked almost instantly, the woman on floor 15, Ethan’s mother. She was also Taylor. Could it be possible that…?
I leaned back in my chair, tension building in my chest. My thoughts raced. Was it just a coincidence, or was there something more I wasn’t seeing? The woman on floor 15… could she be Tasha? My Tasha?
I couldn’t ignore the suspicion. Without hesitation, I picked up my desk phone, punching in the numbers from the file. The phone rang, and as it did, the silence on the other end grew louder in my mind.
Then, I heard it the faint sound of breathing, followed by her familiar voice.
“Hello, Tasha Taylor speaking.”
I froze again. It was her.
But before I could muster the words to speak, a man’s voice filtered through the line, faint but unmistakable. My stomach twisted. Who was that? Was she with someone else? Why hadn’t I known about this?
I stayed silent, listening, my grip tightening around the receiver. Every second that passed without me speaking felt like an eternity, yet I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Instead, I listened to the sound of her life on the other end, a life I had been shut out from.
1/3
Chapter Twenty Nine
+25 BONUS
As I sat there, staring at the phone, still reeling from the conversation or lack thereof, my phone buzzed again, it was Mike. I answered quickly, my voice tight with anticipation
“Sir,” Mike began without preamble, “I’ve gathered the information you asked for. The woman in floor fifteen… it’s your ex–wife, Tasha. Tasha Taylor.”
The world seemed to stop. My heart thudded in my chest as the reality of his words hit me. Tasha. Not just the woman on floor fifteen, not just Ethan’s mother but Tasha, my Ex–wife.
“Are you sure?” I managed to ask, my voice low and strained.
“Yes, sir. I double–checked everything. It’s her.”
I ran a hand through my hair, standing up from my desk and pacing the room. The truth I had been avoiding for so long was now staring me in the face. After all these years, after all the guilt and unanswered questions, she was here in New York, just a few floors away from me.
And she had been right under my nose the whole time.
“Thank you, Mike,” I finally said, my voice calmer than I felt inside. “That’ll be all for now.”
I hung up the phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside me, anger, confusion, but mostly… regret.
I glanced back at the file Emma had brought in. Tasha Taylor. The woman I thought I had hurt and lost forever… was just a few doors away, and she had been living a life I knew nothing about.
As I stood there, still processing the shock of Mike’s revelation, the door to my office swung open. Venessa walked in, her presence immediately pulling me from my thoughts. She was sharp as always, but there was something in her expression, something off. Her eyes flickered to the open file on my desk, and
her face hardened.
“Tasha?” she muttered, her voice low but laced with venom. She moved closer, her gaze narrowing as she took in the name printed neatly on the top of the page. “So… she came here?”
I didn’t respond right away, still caught in the storm of my own emotions. Venessa’s voice broke the silence, harsher this time. “She’s here to take you away from me, isn’t she?”
I blinked, finally meeting her eyes. There was something desperate in her tone, and it took me a moment to realize what she was saying. Venessa wasn’t just concerned about some old lover showing up in my life, she saw Tasha as a threat.
“You’re overreacting,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. But the tension in the room was palpable. Venessa’s jaw clenched, and she crossed her arms, glaring at the file as if it were the enemy itself.
“I’m not overreacting, Daniel. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She’s back, and it’s no coincidence. She’s trying to pull you back into her life. And you-” Venessa’s voice wavered slightly, a flash of insecurity slipping through her usually composed demeanor-“You’re already getting caught up in it.”
I shook my head, though her words had found their mark. The past was resurfacing, and despite the years of distance, Tasha’s presence was now impossible to ignore.
“This has nothing to do with you, Venessa,” I said quietly, though even I wasn’t entirely convinced of my own words.
2/3
Chapter Twenty Nine
+25 BONUS
But Venessa wasn’t about to let it go. “She’s going to ruin everything, Daniel. Everything we’ve worked for. Don’t let her destroy what we have.”
Her words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on me. But I couldn’t shake the thought. gnawing at the back of my mind Tasha was back. And nothing would ever be the same.
Venessa stepped closer, her eyes softening as she looked up at me. “I love you, Daniel,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Before I could react, she closed the distance between us, her lips inches
from mine.
For a split second, I froze, torn between the familiar comfort of Venessa and the whirlwind of emotions Tasha’s return had stirred up inside me. Venessa’s hand grazed my chest, her breath warm as she moved
in to kiss me.
But something held me back. The weight of the moment, of everything that was unraveling, pressed down on me. Just as her lips were about to meet mine, I gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
“Venessa…” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
She paused, her eyes searching mine, hurt flashing across her face. “Daniel, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice laced with both confusion and desperation.
I couldn’t give her an answer, not one that would make sense. Everything felt tangled in that moment, the lines between past and present blurring too much to ignore.
“It’s nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Let’s go home. I’m done for today.”
Venessa studied my face for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push any further. She nodded slowly, slipping her hand into mine. “Alright, let’s go,” she said softly, though her tone hinted at disappointment.
As we made our way out of the office, my thoughts were miles away. The name “Tasha Taylor” kept replaying in my mind, the connection between the woman on the 15th floor and the ex–wife I thought I’d left behind was too much to ignore. But I couldn’t tell Venessa. Not at all.
The elevator ride down felt longer than usual. Venessa kept glancing at me, her hand still clutching mine, but I was lost in my own world. Could it really be Tasha? The woman I hadn’t heard about in years, the same woman who had disappeared without a trace?
