Seven Days to Win Her Back

I'm standing in the gallery, nursing a glass of champagne I have no intention of finishing. Three years. Three years since I left this city, since I left him. The art opening is exactly the kind of event I used to love, but tonight my stomach is in knots. I keep checking the door, my body tense even as I try to appear relaxed.

"Mommy?" Leo tugs at my dress, his small fingers wrapping around mine. "When can we have cake?"

I kneel down, smoothing his dark hair. "Soon, baby. Soon." His eyes—those piercing blue eyes that used to haunt my dreams—stare up at me. Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I look at him and see only my son, not the man who broke me.

"Miss Vale?" A voice interrupts. "Your piece is getting quite a lot of attention."

I straighten up, forcing a smile for the gallery owner. "That's wonderful news."

"It's the emotional depth," he continues, oblivious to my discomfort. "People are connecting with it."

If only they knew.

I'm about to respond when I feel it—that familiar prickle on the back of my neck. The one that always preceded his arrival. I don't turn around. I don't have to.

"Miss Vale," a voice says behind me, deeper than I remember but still unmistakable. "It's been a long time."

My breath catches. I keep my back to him, my hand tightening around Leo's. "Mr. Black."

"Adrian," he corrects. "We never stood on formality, did we?"

I finally turn, keeping my expression carefully neutral. He's as devastating as ever—taller, broader in the shoulders, his dark hair slightly longer than I remember. But it's his eyes that get me every time. The same eyes that my son inherited.

"Mommy?" Leo whispers, sensing the tension.

Adrian's gaze drops to my son, and I watch as recognition dawns. It's subtle at first—a flicker in his eyes, a slight pause in his breathing. Then his eyes widen, and he looks from Leo to me and back again.

"Who—" he starts, his voice rough.

"Excuse us," I say quickly, taking Leo's hand. "We were just leaving."

"Elena," he says, and the sound of my name on his lips after three years is like a slap. "Wait."

I don't wait. I pull Leo toward the exit, my heart pounding against my ribs. I can feel his stare on my back as I push through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances.

"Mommy, why are we running?" Leo asks as we step outside into the cool night air.

I kneel again, forcing myself to meet his worried gaze. "We're not running, baby. We're just... leaving early."

"Is that man mad at you?"

"No, sweetheart." I pull him into a hug, burying my face in his hair. "No one is mad at you."

"Mommy?" he whispers against my shoulder. "That man... he has my eyes."

My heart shatters all over again. "Yes, baby. He does."

We're almost at the corner when I hear footsteps behind me. I don't need to turn to know who it is.

"Elena, stop," Adrian calls out. "Please."

I keep walking, pulling Leo along faster.

"Elena," he says, closer now. "Just tell me one thing. Is he... is he mine?"

I stop. I turn slowly. "You lost the right to ask questions about my life three years ago."

His face pales. "I need to know."

"Why?" I challenge. "So you can add him to your collection? Another prize to show off?"

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" I laugh, but it's a hollow sound. "You want to talk about fair? You used me, Adrian. You manipulated me, lied to me, and when I found out the truth—when I discovered our entire relationship was part of your revenge against my family—you didn't even have the decency to deny it."

His jaw clenches. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You meant to destroy my family," I correct. "What did you think would happen to me in the process?"

"I was angry," he admits. "I was stupid and angry and—"

"And I was pregnant," I say quietly.

The words hang between us. I watch as the full impact hits him. His eyes widen, his mouth opens slightly, and for a moment, he looks utterly undone.

"Pregnant?" he whispers. "When?"

"When I left," I say. "When you chose revenge over me."

"Is he...?" He can't finish the question.

"Goodbye, Adrian." I turn and walk away, not looking back this time.

I'm half a block away when my phone buzzes. I ignore it until we're safely in a cab, Leo curled against my side, already half-asleep.

Only then do I check the message. It's from an unknown number.

> He knows, doesn't he?

I type back quickly: Who is this?

> It's Marcus. I saw you two at the gallery. He's going to find out, Elena. You can't keep this secret forever.

I don't respond. I don't need to.

Five minutes later, another message comes through.

> He's asking around. He's going to confirm it, Elena. He's going to know the boy is his.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. Three years I've kept this secret. Three years I've built a life for myself and Leo. And now it's all about to come crashing down.