Celeste’s POVThe bar was dimly lit and the air was tinged with the stale scent of spilled whiskey and forgotten regrets. People spoke in hushed tones, but none of it registered. The world felt muted, like it was trying not to disturb me.I sat alone at the counter, the amber liquid in my glass almost all gone. It burned going down—but that was the point.Alcohol was the best anesthetic. It numbed the ache in my chest, dulled the sharp sting of memories I wasn’t ready to confront.It's over, damn it. The marriage. The façade. The illusion that maybe, just maybe, he’d come to love me.I had given everything to that man. And in return, he’d given me humiliation.My god! The betrayal and accusations... The imprisonment in that goddamn asylum like I was something to be hidden and left to suffer and rot. I’d looked down at my own trembling hands once and seen blood. My blood. A quiet scream for help no one ever heard.Back then, I promised myself—if I ever got out, I would cut him out of
Damien’s POVThe data was wrong. Again.I slammed the folder down on the boardroom table. "You had one job," I snapped, my voice cold and cutting. "And this is what you bring me? Faulty projections, incomplete charts, and a model that looks like it was thrown together by an intern?"No one dared speak. The room was thick with tension, and even the senior executives looked like they wanted to shrink into their seats.I didn’t care.Because the truth was, I wasn’t just angry about the data.I was angry about everything.The divorce. The headlines. The way she looked at me during that final meeting, like I was nothing. The way she didn’t even blink when she signed her name next to mine. Like it meant nothing.Like I meant nothing.A surge of pressure built behind my temples, my teeth grinding together while silence dragged on. Finally, I straightened and adjusted my cufflinks, dismissing them with a cold flick of my fingers."Fix it. Now."They filed out without a word, avoiding eye cont
Damien’s POVI sat in silence for a long time, the document still open on my desk, the edges curling beneath my fingers.Genevieve’s name stared back at me, bold and inarguable in transaction logs and email metadata.I couldn’t reconcile it. The woman who had stood beside me through everything and had been such a great friend—why would she involve herself in something like this? Why target Celeste?I groaned, my head swimming with confusion, my heart constricting from the rising emotions. And yet, I couldn’t just go to her—not when she had walked away with that terrifying calm, as if everything between us had meant nothing. Not when she had thrown away her ring and hadn’t looked back.But I could fix this. I could clean up the mess, silence the voices, and push back against the vultures circling her name.I can protect her. Even if she doesn’t want me to.I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting to the edge of my desk—where a photo sat half-obscured beneath a folder.Oh, Celeste…
Celeste’s POVThe reflection staring back at me in the mirror didn’t look like someone falling apart.No—she looked polished, collected. Ready for the world. But deep inside, I could feel it—the quiet flutter of nerves, the whisper of uncertainty that had followed me from the moment I zipped up the gown.This is it. My first real step back into the world.My fingers brushed down the fabric of the dress I had designed myself. Every stitch carried a piece of me—every pleat, every fold, a reminder that I had once belonged in this industry. That I had once been brilliant. That I could be brilliant again.I had sacrificed so much for Damien. And when it all came crashing down, there was nothing left of me but ashes.But ashes could be reborn.I wasn’t going to walk into that ballroom as Damien Vaughn’s ex-wife. I wasn’t going to be the scandalous woman in tabloid headlines or the poor soul people pitied.I was walking in as Celeste Monroe. Designer. Creator. Survivor.And tonight, I wasn
Celeste’s POVGasps rippled through the crowd like a stone breaking still water.For a moment, the flashes of camera phones slowed, like even the press didn’t know what to do with what they were seeing.I caught glimpses of expressions—wide eyes, parted lips, frozen smiles.“Is that her? Isn’t she the scandalous ex-wife?”“Wait, she looks... stunning. But why is she here and why is he with her?”“I hate to say it, but… damn. That dress is a showstopper. Did a designer actually choose her to debut that look?”“Why would a dress like that be lent to her?”The whispers struck like arrows, each one trying to slice through the calm I wore like armor.But I kept walking.I felt Theo beside me like a steady force. He didn’t flinch beneath the attention, didn’t falter under the weight of our spectacle.But the looks weren’t for him. They were for us.Because in the eyes of the elite, in the minds of those who only understand currency in power and status, how you arrive—and with whom—was the l
Damien’s POVI lifted my glass to my lips without tasting the champagne. The conversations around me blurred into a background hum of empty pleasantries.Fake laughter. Hollow compliments. Meaningless alliances sealed with overpriced wine.I hated this. But Genevieve thrived on it.She stood a few paces away, wearing a luxurious gown, greeting the crowd with her signature smile. Every word, every gesture calculated. Definitely charming. A perfect performance indeed. Meanwhile, I was just trying to keep my temper in check.Another executive approached, all handshakes and toothy grins. I nodded, murmured something polite, and checked my watch for the fifth time in ten minutes.And then it happened. I caught murmurs—words floating in low whispers:“Is that Theo Mercer?” “He brought someone?” “Wait… is that his girlfriend?” “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone…”My gut twisted before I even turned.Theo? A girlfriend?No. That wasn’t possible. I would’ve heard something. The man didn’t
Celeste’s POVAll eyes were on me.I could feel the skepticism hanging in the air. And yet, I stood tall in the center of the hall. After all, I reminded myself that I wasn’t here to beg for belief. I was here to take it back.“For those who still care about the truth," I said clearly, wanting to reiterate my message, "the rumors about me are false. Deliberately crafted lies, fueled by someone who wanted to tear me down."The press murmured, and a wave of hushed gasps and judgmental scoffs rippled through the room."Oh please," someone in the crowd whispered loudly. "Of course she says that.""She’s just trying to play the victim. Typical."Another voice chimed in with a bitter laugh. "This is what they all do when they get caught."I didn’t flinch. Let them talk. I had expected this.But before I could respond, Theo stepped forward. "Enough."The room stilled. Even the most eager gossipers froze at the edge in his tone."Celeste doesn’t need to explain herself to anyone," Theo contin
Celeste’s POVI kept my expression calm, smoothing the fabric of my dress like I wasn’t clenching my teeth to keep my pulse in check. What the hell is he thinking, locking us both in here?“Impressive,” he suddenly said, voice low and sharp as glass, as he moved closer to me. “You managed to clear your name and even earned a round of applause. Bravo.”His sarcasm dripped like venom, but I refused to rise to it.“If you’re just here to make snide remarks,” I said coolly, not even bothering to look up, “the door is right there.”“Don’t talk to me like that.”His voice dropped, darker this time—more dangerous.I finally lifted my eyes to meet him. “What right do you have to meddle in my affairs, Damien? We’re already divorced.”That word—divorced—hit like a slap. I saw it in the flicker of pain that flashed across his features before he forced it back behind that familiar mask of cold detachment.“Divorced?” he echoed with a bitter laugh. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”A
Celeste’s POVHarper stared at me like I had just told her the man she was interested in was a criminal.“Wait, wait, wait.” She leaned back in her chair, brows high and lips curled into a wince. “That guy—that rude, grumpy, gorgeous guy—is Genevieve’s brother?”I nodded as I sipped what was remaining of my orange juice. She let out a sharp breath, like the information physically offended her. “Well, that’s that. Instant ick. I’m officially over it.”I couldn’t help but laugh. “That fast, huh?”She shuddered dramatically. “Celeste, you know how I feel about Genevieve. If that girl’s made of fire, evil, and poison, her brother has to be at least 60% venom.”“Maybe,” I said carefully, setting my cup down. “But I don’t think he’s like her. Not entirely.”“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Harper said, narrowing her eyes. “Apples don’t fall far from their trees—so I’d rather stay far, far away from that entire family.”“He was… different when he talked to me,” I said slowly. How h
Celeste’s POVI felt like I was running on fumes—half alive, half driven by adrenaline and desperation. My eyes burned and my head throbbed.But I couldn’t stop.When I looked up, Harper was watching me from across the room, her expression soft with concern and just a hint of judgment.She walked over quietly and placed a cup of something warm on the table beside me.“Tea,” she said, before I could ask. “And don’t even think about asking for more coffee. I believe you’ve had enough caffeine to fuel a small country this week.”I managed a tired smile but didn’t protest. The truth was, my hands were beginning to tremble from the nonstop coffee runs. The kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn’t fix had started to settle deep into my bones.She sat across from me and watched as I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting the steam soothe my face.“You’ve been pushing too hard,” she said gently.“I don’t have a choice.”“You do,” she insisted, frowning. “You just refuse to take it.”I shook m
Celeste’s POVThe orphanage stood before me like a ghost that had learned how to breathe again.It had been rebuilt, but I still felt the burn in my chest. As if the fire that tore through it had somehow reached me, even from miles away.Theo stood quietly beside me, his presence grounding me. I remembered screaming when I saw the fire in the news. But after I had gotten out of the asylum, all I’d cared about was Auntie’s health. Seeing her. Knowing she survived. I didn’t let myself think about the rest of it—the fire, the children, the memories reduced to ash.The laughter, the songs, the scraped knees and stolen cookies—gone. The only sound now was the wind pushing through the trees.“They relocated the children, right?” I asked, not looking at Theo.He nodded. “After the fire. A few to new homes, others to partner institutions.”“And no one ever said how it started.”Theo hesitated. “The report said it was an electrical fault. But…”Anger sparked within me as I thought about what
Damien’s POVMy eyes narrowed at Michael as he stood there. Something about the way he was looking at me made my instincts prickle. After everything that just happened, now he suddenly wanted to chat?No.I was on high alert.“What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice flat.He raised his hands slightly, as if to show he came in peace. “Relax. I’m not here to pick another fight.”I didn’t relax.Michael glanced toward the hallway I’d just come from, then back at me. “I just… I wanted to ask you more about Celeste.”I stared at him. Hard. “I know how that sounds,” he said quickly. “But it’s not what you think.”“Really.” My tone was ice.“I’m not after her,” he added, reading my thoughts too easily. “I just… she looked familiar. That’s all.”Familiar? I almost scoffed. He was a Lancaster heir. Born into nobility. Grew up surrounded by heiresses from every elite bloodline across the country. Celeste didn’t come from that world. Who could she possibly resemble?“Familiar how?” I aske
Damien’s POVThe cab ride to the hospital felt longer than it should have.A nurse guided me down a sterile corridor. My mind was elsewhere—on Celeste’s voice, her eyes, the man in the bar, the slap, the accusations. Everything felt like a blur wrapped in static.“This way, sir,” the nurse said politely, gesturing toward a room at the end of the hall.I stepped inside.Genevieve sat up in bed, her cheek still slightly red, but her smile bloomed instantly when she saw me. “Damien,” she breathed, like I was the hero in her story arriving at just the right time.I didn’t return the smile. Beside her, Michael stared at me with irritation, seemingly noticing my disheveled look but choosing to say nothing. I turned to the doctor standing nearby. “What’s her condition?” I asked, voice clipped.The doctor gave a slight nod. “We ran some tests. Nothing serious—just some bruising and mild swelling. She’ll be fine in a day or two.”That was all I needed to hear.“Good,” I said. “Then I’ll be o
Damien’s POVI sat up straighter, squinting through the dim bar lighting, trying to get a clearer look.At first, I thought I was seeing things. Too much alcohol. Too much anger.My brain had to be playing tricks on me.But the more I looked… the more I saw him.The man was still there—same build, tall but slouched posture, same hood pulled low like he had something to hide. My pulse quickened.I stood abruptly, the bar stool scraping back with a screech. I moved toward him, one step at a time. Let me fucking see you, asshole…Let me see who the hell you are…My mouth was dry, my head buzzing.Did you sleep with Celeste? Is that who you are, one of her lovers? But then, my phone buzzed, distracting me. I glanced at the screen, it was Genevieve. I didn’t want to answer. Not now. Not ever, if I was being honest.I looked up again—but the booth was already empty. I whipped around, scanning the bar, the entrance, the shadows—but he had vanished. Like he’d never been there at all.My br
Damien’s POVI didn’t expect her to admit it. She and Theo are together. She has really moved on with another man. Genevieve‘s eyes widened, with something that looked suspiciously like glee. I could sense that she was holding back a lot not to burst into a smug grin. “I’ve had enough of this circus,” Michael suddenly said sharply. “Genevieve, let’s go. You need to see a doctor. That cheek’s getting worse.”“Y-you’re right… it… it really does hurt,” she stammered.She turned to me before walking away and placed her hand on my arm, her touch featherlight but filled with meaning.“Aren’t you coming with us?” she asked softly, her voice just loud enough for Celeste to hear.I didn’t respond.Couldn’t. Because my gaze was locked on Celeste.She didn’t flinch nor appear to be remorseful at all. She just stood beside Theo—like she’d finally chosen a side. And it wasn’t mine.The pain seemed to be burning deeper in me as the seconds ticked. I felt like I’d explode anytime. “Let’s go,” Mi
Celeste’s POVDamien’s arrival was like a match striking dry air.Making Genevieve launch into such a dramatic performance.“Damien! Look what she did to me! ”she cried, forcing him to see the redness blooming across her porcelain skin. Damien’s brows furrowed as he stepped toward her, genuine shock flashing across his face. “What the hell happened?”“She slapped me,” Genevieve whimpered, clutching his sleeve like a damsel clinging to her knight. “I tried to talk to her, and she lashed out.”His eyes darted toward me. “Is that true?” I let out a quiet laugh—dry, humorless. But I didn’t look away. I wouldn’t give him that.Just then, Theo stepped forward, “You didn’t see what happened before that.” He moved closer to my side, resting one hand lightly at the small of my back. Damien’s gaze shifted to him—and for a split second, the mask slipped. He glared at Theo, his fists curling so tightly I could almost hear the strain in his knuckles.I had assumed he came to pick a fight for Ge
Celeste’s POVAfter the loud slap, the room fell into complete silence.Genevieve stood frozen.Then the pain bloomed in, and she let out a shriek of anguish.“You hit me!” she cried out, staggering backward.Oh, yes, I did. It felt good, really.Even with the man’s hand gripping my wrist, trying to stop me, I’d twisted free just enough to land the slap. The man who had stopped my hand earlier quickly caught her before she could fall.“What is wrong with you?!” Genevieve gasped, clutching her cheek. “How dare you—even when he tried to stop you!”As the man gently cupped her face to examine the swelling, she knocked his hat askew—and that’s when I saw him clearly for the first time.The shadows lifted. No more brim to hide behind.His expression had hardened, fury simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw clenched so tightly I could almost hear the grind of his teeth.My breath caught. That face.There was something about him—something deeply familiar. But I had no time to dwell on