The clinking of glasses and soft murmurs filled the luxury hotel suite as Lyra Lawson stacked the last of the empty champagne flutes. The event was over, the guests were gone, and yet her shift wasn't done.
She moved quietly through the room, cleaning up after the wealthy — like always. But this time, something was different.
He was still here.
A tall man stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her. The golden city lights reflected off his black tailored suit. Her heart skipped.
Zane Hogan.
The billionaire. The owner of the hotel. The man she never expected to see again.
She turned away quickly, trying not to draw attention to herself. But she could feel it — his eyes, watching her. And then his voice.
"You're still here," he said.
She froze.
Slowly, Lyra turned, locking eyes with him for the first time in two years. And just like that, every memory of that night came crashing back. The night he'd clearly forgotten.
"You work here now?" he asked, stepping closer.
She nodded. "Just part-time."
His gaze narrowed slightly. "Do I know you?"
She nearly laughed. Almost.
One night. Two years ago.
One night he forgot. One child he didn't know existed.
"No," she lied softly. "I don't think so."
His eyes dropped to the silver necklace around her neck — a small charm shaped like an N.
"What does that stand for?" he asked.
Lyra's fingers instinctively curled around it. "My son," she whispered. "Noah."
A flicker of something — curiosity? confusion? — passed across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly.
"Well," he said, straightening. "Goodnight… Miss?"
"Lawson. Lyra Lawson."
He nodded slowly. "Right. Goodnight, Miss Lawson."
She turned away, tray in hand, but her heart was pounding. He didn't remember.
He didn't know.
And worst of all…
Her little boy at home was his.