Amelia was no longer the naive, timid girl who had disappeared years ago. She stood in the center of the gallery, radiating a confidence that was as striking as the art on the walls.

"Let me take a quick photo," Nolan grinned, tapping his phone. "I’ve got to show Chris the woman who’s taking the city by storm."

Shawn tried to intervene, but Nolan had already captured a side profile of Amelia as she turned to greet a guest.

Nolan stared at the screen, his expression shifting from amusement to confusion. "Why does she look so familiar? Is this Bella White? I feel like I've seen her somewhere before."

"Don't you think she bears a resemblance to Amelia?" Shawn raised an eyebrow, testing the waters.

Nolan’s eyes widened. "What are you saying? Amelia is a name from the past. Besides, they might share a face, but their vibes are worlds apart. Bella is untouchable—like a queen."

Shawn remained silent, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Spencer Group Headquarters.

Chris sat in the executive chair, his expression unreadable as the HR director presented the latest personnel reports. The atmosphere in the conference room was stifling, as it always was when the CEO was in one of his moods.

Suddenly, Chris’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the notification—a photo from Nolan. He froze, his entire body tensing as he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back.

The room went deathly silent. The HR director wiped sweat from his brow, wondering what part of the hiring budget had triggered such a reaction.

"Mr. Spencer, is everything alright?"

Chris didn't answer. He walked out of the room, leaving his executives in a state of bewilderment. He climbed into his car and floored the gas, heading straight for the location Nolan had sent.

In ten minutes, his Porsche screeched to a halt outside the mall. He looked up and saw the sign: CanvasCove Art Gallery. He passed this building every day, yet he hadn't noticed this new addition until now.

Just as he stepped toward the entrance, a figure walked out. It was the woman from the airport.

Up close, the resemblance was haunting. She had Amelia’s features, but they were sharpened by an artistic flair and a captivating presence he had never seen in his wife. His heart pounded against his ribs. Amelia, if you’re alive... why haven't you come home?

The Grand Opening.

The gallery was packed. Lucius Howard had ensured that the elite of the city were in attendance. The mall had even opened early to manage the crowds drawn by the debut of the mysterious artist, Bella White.

Amelia wore a sophisticated silk gown in shades of emerald and seafoam, paired with elegant black heels. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her refined features without being overdone.

"You look breathtaking today," Shawn said as he arrived with Nolan.

Amelia nodded gracefully. "Welcome. I’m glad you could make it."

Nolan couldn't take his eyes off her. "You really are..."

Before he could say something reckless, Shawn pulled him away. Over the last two years, Shawn had grown into a formidable businessman in his own right, moving past his rebellious racing days.

"Stop staring, Nolan. It’s unprofessional," Shawn hissed. "Is Chris coming?"

"He's on his way," Nolan replied, finally looking away. "But wait—since when are you and Lucius Howard so close? You’re acting like his right-hand man."

Shawn didn't answer, his attention shifting to Lucius as he entered the room. Every head turned. Lucius moved through the crowd with an easy grace, eventually reaching Amelia’s side. She naturally took his arm, and they shared a look of mutual understanding that looked, to any observer, like the picture-of-a-perfect-power-couple.

"Chris is here. Stay sharp," Lucius whispered.

A cold light flashed in Amelia’s eyes. "Thank you for the warning, Lucius."

As the clock struck ten, Amelia stepped to the podium. She delivered her speech with a natural eloquence, her voice steady and her gaze sweeping the room. The audience listened in rapt silence, applauding at all the right moments.

Despite the crowd, she could feel one specific gaze burning into her.

"I swear, she’s a ringer for Amelia," Nolan muttered to Shawn. "Am I losing my mind?"

"You're just seeing ghosts," Shawn replied coolly. He wasn't worried. With Lucius’s backing, Amelia’s new identity was ironclad—a talented artist who had spent years abroad, now returning to her roots to open her own space. It was a flawless resume.

Amelia and Lucius began to move through the room, toasting their guests. When they reached Shawn and Nolan, Amelia smiled brightly.

"Ms. White, you’ve truly outdone yourself," Nolan said, clinking his glass against hers. "Lucius, you finally found your muse. When’s the wedding?"

A hint of warmth appeared in Lucius’s eyes. "We aren't in any rush."

"We’ll be sure to send you an invitation when the time is right," Amelia added with a charming smile.

As they moved on, Nolan’s smile faded into a thoughtful frown. "What now?" Shawn asked.

"Something feels off," Nolan whispered. "They don't feel like lovers. They feel like partners in a very high-stakes game."

"Don't overthink it," Shawn warned.

"Look, the star has arrived!" Nolan’s eyes lit up as a slender, exquisite figure appeared at the entrance. It was Leila Ross.