Sam hung up the phone, a slow, deep smile spreading across his face. He leaned back in his leather chair, the low, frustrated chuckle from James Holland's final words about "Bella" fading from his memory. He reached across his desk and picked up a slim, well-worn file labelled 'Walker, Sarah'. He ran a thumb over the cover and whispered, "I have finally found you, Bella."
He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Ever since he first met Sarah Walker at the hospital months ago, he had been haunted by a familiar feeling. Her mannerisms, the particular cadence of her voice, the spark of defiant intelligence in her eyes, and, most importantly, the tiny, barely visible scar above her eyebrow—she was too similar to the little girl he had known. He had immediately begun a slow, discreet investigation.
A week ago, the final pieces of the puzzle had clicked into place. His inquiries confirmed that Janice, the woman he had known as "Aunt Janice," was William Walker's ex-wife, and William was Sarah's adoptive father. Sarah was indeed the long-lost Bella he had been searching for. The relief and immense joy were overwhelming. "You hid her well, Aunt Janice," he murmured, looking at an old photograph on his desk—a picture of him, his mother, and Janice.
His mother, a rich heiress, had been disowned after becoming pregnant out of wedlock. She had passed away from stomach cancer when Sam was six years old. After her death, little Sam (then Jack) ended up at the orphanage. Janice, his mother's best friend, found him there. He was the reason she started working at the orphanage. Later, she brought in a young girl named Bella, whispering, "She will be your little sister, from now on. You have to look after each other, okay, Jackie?" He had nodded instantly, taking Bella's small hand into his slightly larger one and promising to protect her. That protective warmth died with Janice's passing and the disastrous orphanage fire, which separated him from Bella. He never stopped searching. It's been 20 years, and now, he had finally found her.
As soon as he was certain, Sam reached out to his close friend, James Holland. When James mentioned the promising new designer, Sarah Walker, Sam had seized the opportunity. He had warned James, his voice cold and flat, not to touch her, knowing James Holland's reputation. Sarah was his family now; along with his adoptive grandparents, she was the only family he had left, his only connection to the past. They might not be blood-related, but she was his, and that would never change.
Then came the mission. Sam leveraged Holland's known ambition, giving him the task of standing between Sarah and Damien. The goal was simple: force Damien to reveal his possessive, controlling nature. Sam knew this exposure would be the catalyst that pushed Sarah, who valued independence above all else, to leave him. James was genuinely fascinated by Sarah and her exceptional talent, which only sweetened the deal. But James is a loyal friend to Sam, so he promised to treat her with respect, with no romantic feelings whatsoever involved. Both men were already partners in a new design company abroad, and Sam was ready to offer Sarah the position of CEO, but James thought they should start with something smaller, like an executive position, and go from there. James reasoned that Sarah Walker wasn't a fool; she could see through them if they didn't play their cards well. It was the perfect, highly lucrative escape route for her; he only hoped she was willing to take it.
Sam closed the file and stood up, moving to the window. He had done his part. He had placed the decision squarely in Sarah's hands, ensuring she could see the situation clearly. He hoped with a fierce longing that Bella would choose freedom and find her footing in the world. He owed her that much.
Meanwhile, at Sterling Designs, the day dragged on with suffocating heaviness. Sarah sat at her large desk, physically present but emotionally paralyzed. The fluorescent lights of the open-plan office seemed too harsh, the constant murmur of colleagues discussing the SHINE clothing line and deadlines seemed irrelevant. Everyone around her was busy with their own work, oblivious to the emotional hurricane that had ripped through her life that morning.
She stared blankly at a complex technical drawing. "Mistress. Pathetic," she whispered to herself. Damien's furious face, the slammed door, the sickening realization of her position—it all swirled together in a paralyzing fog. She felt the eyes of her colleagues on her and knew she had to appear normal. She picked up a pencil, but her hand was shaking too hard to draw a straight line. She was desperate for a way out, and for the first time, she truly started to look at the world and the professional opportunities that lay beyond the confines of Damien Sterling's control.
Then, a text from Sam showed up on her screen:
"Can you help me choose a gift?"
She stared at the message, a sudden lifeline of normalcy in the chaos. After a moment, she managed to reply, "Okay."
Sam's next text came through instantly: "I'll wait for you in front of Sterling Design at 4 sharp."
When the time arrived, she got out and saw Sam standing in front of his car, radiating a sense of calm strength. She smiled. There was something about Sam that made her peaceful and happy. As Mathilda had said herself, it was easy to like him. He opened the door for her, and she entered. He then sat in the driver's seat and turned to take something from the back seat. It was a bag containing a delicious apple pie, and the sweet, familiar smell hit Sarah hard in the nostrils. She can't remember when she last tried it, but she somehow knew she loved it and that it was delicious.
"For me?" Sarah asked.
Sam nodded. "There's no one else in my car but you and me. And it's clearly not for me." He shrugged, "Eat, my sweet Bella." He reached out and touched her head lightly. Sarah felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu, as if this exact moment had already happened in a forgotten life. "Eat my sweet Bella, Bella, Bella..." The name echoed inside her mind, a powerful, familiar whisper threatening to unlock a flood of lost memories. She suddenly put her hand on her head, she remembered something... A little boy's hand holding hers, he's telling her something, "Let's go eat, Bella. Auntie brought us the apple pie."