Chapter 150

Author's POV Ethan Quinn lifted his gaze from his wineglass, scanning the crowded reception hall with bored detachment—until his eyes landed on her. And froze. The woman standing across the room bore a resemblance so eerie it made his breath catch. It wasn't just the curve of her cheekbones or the familiar slant of her eyes—it was something deeper. A near-perfect echo of his mother's younger self stared back at him, veiled behind soft waves of dark hair and a serene expression that didn't match the storm now brewing inside him. It couldn't be real. But it was. If she weren't so visibly younger, he might've called out his mother's name on instinct. No... not instinct. Hope. The shock in Ethan's expression didn't go unnoticed. Serena, balancing a small glass of sparkling water, tilted her head slightly in confusion. Her eyes met his—steady, polite, guarded. She didn't recognize him. He swallowed hard. "Mr. Quinn," she greeted first, breaking the tension with a practiced, formal smile. Sh