Chapter 81 Chapter 27.3
The moment Heaven stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet, a barrage of flashing lights exploded around her like a storm of white stars. Cameras fired one after another, blinding her vision for a second. Instinctively, she lifted a hand as if to shield her face—too late. Her image had already been captured dozens of times, soon to be splashed across magazines and entertainment sites by morning.
Her pulse quickened. She swallowed hard, nerves tightening in her throat as she began to walk forward. Please… let Desmond not recognize me like this. Not here. Not now. With her new look, sharper features, matured beauty, elevated elegance, maybe he wouldn’t.
Inside the venue, waves of warm greetings immediately greeted her. A small cluster of businessmen, men who had known her from past dealings, stood to welcome her.
“Miss Rosales, I didn’t know you were attending as well,” one of the men said with a pleasant smile.
Heaven mirrored the gesture. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Another man tilted his head curiously. “Did you fly in from Germany just for this?”
She shook her head lightly, her smile brightening. “No, sir. I arrived in Manila a week ago. How about all of you? When did you get here?”
Her warm expression drew laughter and smiles from the table.
“We landed yesterday,” one of them replied. “We flew from Germany the other day, you know how long that trip takes from there to Manila.”
They all chuckled, exchanging quick remarks about projects, current investments, and upcoming collaborations. Heaven listened intently, offering her own insights, something she had grown quite confident with after years abroad.
When the event finally began, everyone retreated to their respective seats. A gentleman beside Heaven placed a steadying hand on her waist, politely guiding her to her chair. She thanked him softly before turning her attention to the emcee’s opening remarks.
But somewhere a few rows forward, a man sat stiffly, unaware that the woman he had been desperately searching for was only a breath away.
Desmond.
He didn’t see her earlier in the thick crowd. The venue was packed, voices echoing, the lights dimming and brightening with every part of the program. And though they were seated only a few feet apart, neither caught sight of the other.
As the host continued speaking onstage, waiters began serving refreshments. Heaven took a sip of her drink, only to choke when her name boomed through the speakers.
“Calling Miss Heaven Rosales. Please join me on stage.”
Her eyes widened, and she coughed hard, startled. ‘What? No one told me I had to speak today.’ Her secretary hadn’t mentioned anything. Her heart raced in panic.
People at her table clapped and cheered her on.
“Go ahead, Heaven!” they encouraged.
The sudden noise made Desmond turn sharply. ‘Heaven?’ He blinked, confused. Did he hear that right? Was it just someone with the same name… or—
He scanned the room, eyes darting across the tables until a stir caught his attention. At a nearby table, a woman stood and began walking toward the stage. Her back faced him, long hair cascading down her gown. He still couldn’t see her face.
But something in him, instinct, memory, longing, stirred violently.
Heaven reached the stage, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. She hated impromptu speeches, but she had no choice now. She steadied her breath and started speaking.
Desmond’s gaze locked on her the moment she turned around.
His jaw clenched hard.
It was her.
There was no mistaking that face. Even more beautiful now, refined by years of change—but still the same woman he had fallen in love with, the same woman who vanished from his life without a trace.
Everything she said blurred in his ears. He didn’t hear a single word. His heartbeat thundered too loudly, drowning everything around him. After years of searching, hiring private detectives, combing through cities, following cold leads, she was here. Right here.
When Heaven finished, the room erupted in applause once more. She thanked the crowd softly before stepping down the stage. The emcee offered his hand to help her descend, and she accepted with a polite smile.
At her table, her companions beamed at her.
“That was wonderful!”
A man quickly stood, taking her hand gently to guide her back to her seat. Their closeness made Desmond’s blood spike in his veins. His fists curled. Jealousy, raw and sharp, clawed up his chest.
‘Who is he? Why is he touching her like that?’
He pushed his chair back slightly, ready to stand, but Zachary’s hand shot out to stop him.
Desmond shot his friend a cold glare.
“Don’t,” Zachary warned quietly. “Not here.”
“She’s my wife. I need to talk to her,” Desmond hissed, voice low, vibrating with restrained emotion.
“And what if she denies you?” Zachary countered calmly. “What if she rejects you in front of all these people? You’ll embarrass yourself.”
Desmond’s jaw tightened again. Zachary had a point, damn him. But the restraint burned like fire under his skin.
Unable to sit still, Desmond pushed up from his chair and headed to the buffet area. He grabbed a glass of alcohol and downed it in one long gulp, his throat burning. Anything to keep himself from marching back to her and dragging her out of the hall just to force a conversation.
He had searched everywhere. Everywhere. He paid investigators, made overseas trips—yet no trace of her. And now, fate had the audacity to place her directly in front of him like this.
He snatched another glass of liquor.
Scarlett, the daughter of one of his business partners, approached with a soft smile.
“I’ve been watching you. You look… irritated. Are you okay?” she asked, taking a glass of alcohol and sipping it.
Desmond ignored her completely. His mind was glued to Heaven.
“Desmond, are you alright?” she repeated.
He finally tore his eyes away from Heaven long enough to glance at Scarlett—expression blank and cold.
“What do you need?” he asked flatly.
She frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“None of your business.”
Scarlett sighed but smiled as if she was used to his coldness.
“You never pay attention to me even when I’m standing in front of you. What more do you want in a woman, Mr. Velasquez?”
Desmond lifted his left hand, showing his wedding ring.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested. And I’m married.”
Scarlett laughed softly, unfazed. “Married? Really? Then where is she? I’ve been working with you for a year and I’ve never seen your wife. Does she even exist? Maybe you have an invisible wife I don’t know about?”
His teeth ground together. He refused to dignify her question.
Before he could respond, a man near Heaven handed her a drink.
“Try this. I’m sure you’ll like it,” the man said with an easy smile.
Desmond’s head snapped toward them. His grip tightened around his glass. Heaven laughed lightly at whatever the man said, the sight making Desmond slam his drink down on the table, knuckles whitening.
“Heaven…” he whispered under his breath.
She heard him.
Heaven paused mid-laugh, her hand lowering slowly. She turned—and their eyes met.
Her smile vanished instantly. Her body stiffened. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Desmond.
She looked away as fast as she could, pretending nothing happened, focusing all her attention back on the man beside her. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest. She wanted to leave. She needed to leave.
As she sat back down at her table, Desmond’s gaze never left her—not even for a second.
She could feel it. Burning. Intense. Heavy.
Her eyes drifted to the exit. ‘If I can just walk out quietly…’
But her peripheral vision caught movement.
She glanced to her right—and her heart dropped.
Zachary.
He was staring right at her.