CHAPTER 5: Hostile Proposal

Siena stood frozen in the hallway just outside her lecture room, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The professor’s monotone buzzed from inside, but she couldn’t process a single word of it.

She had just walked away from a man claiming she was the mother of his child.

His child.

Whom she had supposedly given birth to.

Without remembering.

She rubbed her temples and gave her cheeks two light slaps, as if pain might snap her back to reality. It didn’t work. Lucien Dela Vega’s voice echoed in her skull like an accusation she couldn’t silence.

"You’re pretending not to know your own child."

What kind of man says that? What kind of man believes it?

She’d heard stories—loan sharks, desperate exes, stalkers with a fantasy. But this? A mystery man with mafia vibes and sculpted cheekbones accusing her of abandoning a son she didn’t remember?

This had to be a fever dream.

She pushed the door open and slid into the back row. The classroom lights buzzed overhead. Liam looked up from his notebook and raised a brow.

“You okay? You look like you just came face to face with death.”

She sank into her chair. “Worse. A man with cheekbones sharp enough to commit war crimes and a voice like a courtroom gavel.”

“So... your type?”

She gave him a look. “More like a mafia boss who moonlights as a memory thief.”

Liam blinked. “Should I be concerned? Do I need to call campus security?”

She offered a weak smile and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I think he came alone this time.”

Liam narrowed his eyes, unsure if she was joking. She didn’t clarify.

The next forty-five minutes passed in a haze. While the professor scribbled equations across the board, Siena’s notebook filled with doodles: one labeled “ME” being chased by a stick figure labeled “Trauma Man.”

After class, her phone buzzed. An unknown number.

> We need to talk. 1 PM. The café across from the bookstore.

She didn’t reply.

She stared at the message like it had personally betrayed her. The minute hand on her watch ticked forward anyway.

At 12:59 PM, she stood across the street from the café, heart pounding.

She could still turn around.

But she didn’t.

Through the glass, she spotted him, Lucien Dela Vega. Seated at the far table by the window like he owned it. His dark suit clung to his frame like it had been tailored by the gods. One hand rested on the table, the other held a coffee he hadn’t touched.

She checked for weapons. Hers, not his. A pencil. A half-melted chocolate bar. A loyalty card for bubble tea.

She stepped in. Her shoulders squared. Her sneakers squeaked slightly against the polished floor. He looked up, eyes sharp, but didn’t rise.

“You came,” he said.

She sat across from him. “No, I’m just sleepwalking. Very committed dream sequence.”

Lucien’s lips twitched. “Still sarcastic. Good. That means your brain’s still intact.”

“Shame. I was hoping it short-circuited this morning.”

“I take it you still don’t believe me.”

She raised a brow. “Let’s see. Mysterious man stalks me at a park, claims I abandoned a child, and then pulls up looking like he’s late to a board meeting and a funeral. Yeah, I’m not sold.”

He reached into his coat pocket and slid a photo across the table.

Siena went still.

The photo showed her lying in a hospital bed—pale, exhausted, hair damp and plastered to her temple. A newborn was curled on her chest. Her hand cradled the infant’s head. A nurse stood in the corner, smiling softly.

Her fingers trembled.

“That’s you,” Lucien said, voice steady. “And that’s Damien.”

Her heart pounded.

“I don’t remember this,” she whispered.

“You wouldn’t. You nearly died. You were in a private clinic. Under guard. Heavily sedated.”

She looked up sharply. “Why? Who does that? Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I did,” Lucien said. “After I lost you.”

He leaned forward, fingers laced. “You vanished. No ID. No leads. By the time I tracked the clinic, you were gone. Staff said someone had discharged you. No name. No paper trail. I searched. But whoever took you knew how to cover their tracks.”

“And you just… gave up?”

He didn’t flinch. “I never stopped. But I had a child to raise.”

Siena stared at the picture again. The way she held the baby. The softness in her expression. A kind of love she couldn’t fake, not even unknowingly.

Lucien broke the silence. “I’m not here to guilt you.”

“You’re doing a great job anyway.”

“I’m here to offer a deal.”

She arched a brow. “Wow. That escalated fast.”

“Not that kind of deal. Though I could make it binding.”

Her eye twitched. “Try me.”

He smirked. “Live with Damien. One month. No obligations. If nothing comes back to you, I’ll let you walk.”

“And what do I get if I say yes?”

“A chance to know the truth.”

She leaned back. “And if I say no?”

Lucien’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll try again. Tomorrow. Or the day after. I won’t stop until you see him not as a stranger... but as your son.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He continued. “He remembers you, Siena. You held him. He calmed down. That has never happened with anyone else.”

She swallowed. Hard.

The doorbell above the café chimed. A student walked in, ordering something loud and sugary.

Siena didn’t notice.

She was still staring at the photo.

That baby had fit so perfectly in her arms.

Lucien’s voice softened. “He misses you. Even if he doesn’t understand why.”

Her chair scraped slightly as she stood.

“I need time,” she said quietly.

“You have it,” he replied. “But time runs out.”

She walked out the door.

Outside, the clouds were low. Wind pressed against her coat. Her boots hit the pavement harder than she meant.

She didn’t turn back.

Lucien remained seated at the table, the untouched coffee still steaming.

His fingers brushed the edge of the photo before sliding it back into his coat.

He would wait.

But not forever.

Siena had forgotten many things.

But one month would be enough to make her remember.

Or fall in love all over again.

Her legs shook. The sky had clouded over, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

She wasn’t sure who she was five years ago.

But the woman in that photo… looked like someone who had loved.

Loved deeply.

And lost everything.

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