Celeste stood at the iron gates of the Deymir estate, her hand trembling as she gripped the cold metal. The roses along the stone walls swayed gently, their scarlet petals brushing against the glass windows as if taunting her.

It had been five years.

Five years since Celeste walked away from Lucian Deymir—the man who once swore she was the only future he wanted. Back then, she told herself she was too young, too restless, unwilling to tie her life to a lieutenant whose days were swallowed by duty and discipline. She craved freedom, the city’s glittering promises, the thrill of a life without chains. So she left him behind, believing he would wait, or that she would never regret it.

But regret filled her now, heavy as lead.

Through the wide windows, she saw him. Lucian. No longer the decorated lieutenant with cold precision in his eyes, but a man transformed. Softer in the edges, sharper in his presence, and anchored by something she never imagined for him—family.

On the velvet couch, two small children tumbled into his arms. Twins. A boy and a girl, no more than three years old, with Lucian’s storm-gray eyes and a familiar smile. Yours. They shrieked with delight as he scooped them up, tickling until their giggles echoed through the room.

And then, Celeste saw you.

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Standing near the hearth, hair loose around your shoulders, a smile tugging at your lips as you watched the scene. You looked nothing like the shallow girl Celeste remembered from family gatherings, the quiet shadow she assumed would never outshine her. But here you were—radiant, grounded, beloved. Lucian’s wife. The mother of his children. The center of the world Celeste abandoned.

Her stomach twisted with rage and envy. This life should have been hers.

Driven by something ugly and desperate, Celeste shoved open the gate and stormed up the stone path, her heels striking the ground like war drums. She didn’t knock. She flung the door wide open, stepping into the warmth of the home that mocked her emptiness.

Lucian’s head turned instantly, his body tensing as he drew the twins closer in a protective hold. Recognition flickered across his features, then something colder—a wall of steel dropping into place. He stood slowly, his gaze sharp and unreadable.

“Celeste,” he said, his voice low, steady, but laced with warning.

The name tasted foreign on his tongue, as though it belonged to someone from a life long buried.

You stepped forward instinctively, confused but wary, while the twins pressed themselves closer to Lucian’s legs.

Celeste’s voice cracked like a whip. “This was supposed to be me.”

The air thickened. Her words vibrated through the room, dripping with venom and grief. She didn’t care about the children’s frightened eyes or your startled gaze. All she saw was Lucian—the man she had abandoned, the man she still believed should belong to her.

“You think she deserves this?” Celeste’s eyes snapped to you, searing with hatred. “You? You were never meant to have him. You were nothing but my quiet little sister, always second-best, always behind me. And yet you—” her voice trembled with fury “—you stole what was mine!”

You flinched, but before you could answer, Lucian stepped forward. The twins clung tighter to his legs, sensing the shift in the air.

“Enough,” Lucian’s voice was sharp, unyielding. His eyes locked onto Celeste’s, gray like storm clouds ready to break. “You left. I begged you to stay, and you walked away. I gave you the freedom you wanted, and you threw me aside. Don’t stand here now and call what you abandoned ‘yours.’”

Celeste’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath uneven. “You still love me,” she spat, desperation breaking through her rage.

Lucian replied without any hesitation.

“No,” he said, his arm sliding protectively around your waist. “The only woman I see when I close my eyes is her. The only hands I want holding mine are hers. Whatever we had, Celeste—it ended the day you chose to leave.”