Adrian Cole; Return of the Lost Heir

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Chapter Twelve

The banquet ended in a storm of whispers and speculation. People left in groups, their voices buzzing with Adrian’s name, his mysterious backing, and Isabella Reyes’s shocking defense of him. To many, the night had been turned upside down; to Adrian, it was just another weight pressing against the shadows of his fractured memory.

As the guests spilled into the night, Adrian walked alongside Isabella Reyes. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, her poise unshaken, but she cast him a glance that softened when their eyes met.

For a while, silence stretched between them, filled only by the hushed murmurs trailing from the departing crowd. Finally, Adrian broke it, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I don’t want them to know who I am,” he confessed. His gaze remained ahead, sharp but troubled. “Not yet. Not until I can remember everything for myself.”

Isabella studied him, her brows lifting slightly. The calm assurance in his tone reminded her of the man she’d once known—the man the world feared, even if most never saw his face.

“Then what do you want from me?” she asked quietly.

Adrian stopped walking, turning toward her. His eyes carried an intensity that cut through the cool night air. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me about the man I was before the accident.”

For a moment, Isabella didn’t answer. She looked at him as though weighing how much truth he was ready to carry. Then, with a sigh, she stepped closer, her voice dropping so only he could hear.

“You were always reserved. Cold, at least on the surface. But fair.” Her lips pressed together in thought. “You never raised your voice without reason, and you demanded respect—not just because of your name, but because you had earned it. People either feared you or envied you, but they never dismissed you. Never.”

Adrian listened intently, his brows furrowed as fragments of memory flickered faintly in his mind. Faces he couldn’t place, shadows of boardrooms, the taste of blood and power.

“You had chains of businesses,” Isabella continued, her eyes glinting. “Not just local—global. Hotels, tech firms, shipping lines, private security, even hidden arms contracts. Industries that mattered. Empires that stood tall because of you. It wasn’t just wealth, Adrian—it was dominance. The kind that threatened entire families, the kind that forced others to kneel whether they wanted to or not.”

Her voice hardened slightly, as though remembering past conflicts. “Many feared you because you made moves no one else dared. Even the most powerful families watched their step around you. That’s why, after your… disappearance, there was chaos. The balance shifted. Rivals grew bold. Some called it relief, others called it opportunity. But your absence left a scar across the entire business world.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened as she spoke, a dull ache stirring behind his eyes. He could almost see it—the weight of boardroom negotiations, signatures on contracts worth billions, enemies forced to bend under his will. He could almost feel the cold satisfaction of pulling strings that made dynasties tremble.

“And then?” he asked, his voice rougher now. “The day of the accident. Tell me everything.”

Isabella’s gaze darkened. “That day wasn’t an accident.” She spoke the words like steel. “You were attending a meeting with international partners. It was a closed deal, critical for your empire. But before you arrived at the venue, your car was intercepted. They staged it like a crash, but it was an attack.”

Adrian’s breathing slowed, heavy, the air thick with tension.

“Several of your men were found dead at the scene,” Isabella continued, her voice softening as the memories weighed on her. “Loyal men who would never have betrayed you. But your body… it was never recovered. Everyone assumed the worst. And in truth, perhaps it was easier for some to believe you were dead. It gave them permission to move against what you built.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his. “But I refused to believe it. I searched, Adrian. Even when the world called me foolish. Even when your enemies toasted your ‘death.’ And when I saw you at that diner, I knew. I knew you were alive.”

Her words struck deep, unraveling a storm inside him. The faint flashes came harder now—blurred headlights tearing through the night, the screech of tires, shouts cut short, and then the crushing sound of twisted metal. The memory slammed into him with brutal force, and his knees buckled.

Adrian’s breath hitched as pain surged through his skull. He staggered, clutching at his head, his vision spinning. Images came like shards—fire, screams, the echo of betrayal—but none held long enough for clarity.

“Adrian!” Isabella’s voice cut through the haze as she rushed forward, catching him before he hit the ground. Her arms wrapped around him, steadying his weight, but his body trembled violently.

“I… I can’t…” His voice cracked as sweat beaded his brow. His heart thundered against his ribs, his body rebelling against the force of the memories clawing their way back.

“Don’t force it,” Isabella whispered, her grip tightening. “Not all at once. It will destroy you if you push too hard. Let it come piece by piece.”

But Adrian’s body refused to obey. His strength drained as the darkness pulled at him, and before he could fight it, he collapsed fully into her arms.

Gasps rose from a few stragglers nearby, those who hadn’t yet left the banquet hall. Whispers rippled again, sharp with shock and curiosity.

Isabella ignored them all. She cradled Adrian against her, her expression a mixture of fear and determination.

“You came back from death once,” she murmured, her voice trembling yet firm. “And I’ll be damned before I let them take you again.”

With a sharp command, she signaled her men stationed outside. They rushed forward, eyes widening at the sight of Adrian’s unconscious form.

“Take him,” she ordered, her voice snapping into steel. “Get the car ready. Now.”

As they lifted Adrian carefully into waiting arms, Isabella followed close, her mind already racing. His return was more dangerous than he realized. If the families caught wind of his survival before he was ready—before he remembered everything—they would strike again, harder and without hesitation.

But as she glanced at his pale face, a grim fire lit in her chest.

The world believed Adrian Cole had died once. They would learn soon enough that he was very much alive—and when his memories returned, he would be unstoppable.