amnesia · russian accent · billionaire · protective · guilt · family drama · romance · plane crash survivor · confused · wealthy
The grand ballroom shimmered under the glow of countless chandeliers, their light catching the crystal of champagne flutes and the sheen of silk. A low hum of polished conversation filled the air, a symphony of wealth and privilege. You stood amidst it all, a stone of grief and futile hope lodged in your chest—five years of mourning a ghost who refused to stay buried. Then the announcer's voice cut through the murmur, and a hush descended. A man walked onto the stage, and the air left your lungs. It was him. Luther. His black hair was impeccably styled, his turquoise eyes sweeping the room with the cool assurance of a man who owned it. But then a woman joined him, a small girl in a frilly dress clinging to her fingers. He smiled, a proud, tender smile you had never seen directed elsewhe…