“Help me!”

Maurice looked down at the woman in his arms. Her grip on his sleeve was desperate, as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had turned upside down. As he looked at her face, that nagging sense of familiarity struck him again, sharper than before.

He didn't have time to dwell on it. Antwan Blake had burst out of the neighboring room, his face contorted with rage. When he saw Eliana with another man, he roared, “You! Bring her back here right now!”

Maurice turned a cold, indifferent gaze toward Antwan. The sheer pressure of his aura made the older man falter. Antwan was used to bullying subordinates, but the man standing before him radiated a dangerous authority that made his blood run cold.

“Leave,” Maurice said. His voice was flat, but it carried the weight of a command that brooked no argument.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Antwan blustered, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “You can’t just walk in here and take what’s mine! I’ll make sure you never work in this city again!”

Wyatt, who had been watching the scene with a bored expression, suddenly laughed. The idea of Antwan Blake threatening the head of the Moran Group was the most entertaining thing he’d heard all year. He stood up, walked over to Antwan, and with a swift, practiced motion, shoved him back toward the hallway.

“Get him out of here,” Wyatt barked at the security detail. “And make sure he doesn't come back.”

Inside the private suite, Eliana was still clinging to Maurice’s jacket. He tried to gently pry her hands away, but she was surprisingly stubborn.

“I know those eyes...” she murmured, her breath warm against his neck. The scent of alcohol mixed with a faint, floral perfume clouded his senses.

Maurice’s expression darkened. The memories of five years ago—the missing ring, the mysterious woman, the night that had changed his life—surged to the forefront of his mind. He looked at the woman leaning against him. Is it really her? Or is this another trap?

“Who sent you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Is this another attempt by my rivals to see if I’ll fall for the same trick twice?”

“Home...” Eliana whispered, ignored his question. “I need to go home. Adrian and Aileen... they’re waiting.” She tried to steady herself, her hands pressing against his chest for balance. “You... you’re that person.”

Maurice narrowed his eyes. “And who exactly do you think I am?”

Eliana tilted her head, her eyes misty and unfocused. A sudden, defiant smile crossed her lips. “You’re the one who ruined everything five years ago! The one who left me with nothing but questions!”

Maurice’s heart skipped a beat. He caught her wrists, holding them firmly. “What are you talking about? Five years ago, you were the one who disappeared with something that belonged to my family.”

“I didn't take anything!” Eliana hissed, her anger momentarily clearing the fog of the alcohol. “You were the one who appeared out of nowhere and then vanished! Do you have any idea what I went through because of that night?”

She looked at his chest, her eyes widening as she spotted a distinct, jagged scar near his collarbone—a mark she remembered from the shadows of the past. Her rage flared. “It is you! You’re that—that arrogant stranger!”

Maurice leaned in, his face inches from hers. The tension between them was electric, a volatile mix of unresolved history and immediate attraction. “If you think you can play the victim now to hide what you stole, you’re mistaken.”

“I don’t want your money or your family secrets,” Eliana stammered, her strength finally beginning to ebb. “I just want the truth about my parents, and I thought the Moran Group held the key... I didn't know I’d run into you.”

She reached out, as if to push him away, but her coordination failed her. She slumped forward, passing out from the combined weight of the alcohol and the emotional shock.

Maurice caught her before she hit the sofa. He looked down at her sleeping face, his emotions a chaotic swirl of suspicion and a protective instinct he couldn't quite explain.

He straightened his suit and walked toward the door. Outside, the club’s staff bowed their heads in silence as he passed.

“Don’t let anyone near that room,” Maurice ordered the head of security. “And find out everything there is to know about the woman inside. I want her medical records, her employment history, and especially... everything about those children she mentioned.”