The car ride back to the venue feels like an eternity.
My heart is still pounding from the confrontation, my hands still trembling from the words I threw at him like weapons.
I told him to stay away.
I told him I would destroy him.
I meant every single word.
But the fear is still there.
The old familiar fear that has lived in my chest for seven years.
The fear that he’ll find me.
That he’ll find them.
That he’ll take everything I’ve built.
I push it away.
I have to.
For the twins.
For myself.
For the empire I’ve created.
The car pulls up to the entrance of the ballroom.
The lights are still blazing.
The crowd is still buzzing.
The night is far from over.
Emily is waiting for me at the door.
Her face is pale, her eyes wide with worry.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
I manage a smile.
“I’m dealing with it.”
She takes my arm.
“The press is everywhere.
They’re asking questions.
About you.
About him.
About everything you said on stage.”
“I expected that.”
“Did you expect them to be camped outside the venue, waiting for you to come back?”
I pause.
I hadn’t expected that.
But I should have.
I just dropped a bomb on the most powerful people in the fashion industry.
Of course they want answers.
“Let them ask,” I say.
“I’ll handle it.”
“You sure?”
“Completely.”
I walk into the ballroom.
The lights are blinding, the noise overwhelming.
The crowd parts as I approach, a sea of faces turning to watch me pass.
And then I see them.
The press.
A wall of cameras and microphones and hungry eyes.
“Ms.
Winters!
Ms.
Winters, over here!”
“Is it true you were once married to Elijah Martinez?”
“Did he really marry you for your blood?”
“Isabella Montague.
Was she faking her illness?”
The questions fly at me like bullets.
I don’t flinch.
I don’t waver.
I smile my perfect, practiced smile.
“My private life is irrelevant,” I say.
“Tonight is about the launch.
About Lavender Group.
About everything I’ve built.
The past is the past.
I’m focused on the future.”
The press doesn’t relent.
They keep pushing, keep asking, keep digging.
“Ms.
Winters, what’s your response to Mr.
Martinez’s presence here tonight?”
“Ms.
Winters, do you have any comment on the rumors that you had children together?”
“Ms.
Winters, is it true that Mr.
Martinez didn’t know about your pregnancy?”
I feel the questions like blows.
But I keep smiling.
Keep deflecting.
Keep protecting myself.
“My private life is my own,” I say.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to attend.”
I walk away.
The press tries to follow, but security steps in, forming a wall between me and the cameras.
I don’t need to.
I feel his eyes on me before I see him.
Elijah.
Standing in the VIP area, surrounded by the cream of New York society.
His face is pale, his jaw tight.
Beside him, Isabella is clutching his arm, her eyes blazing with fury.
And on his other side, Victoria stands frozen, her expression a mask of barely controlled terror.
They look like they’ve seen a ghost.
Because that’s what I am to them.
The ghost they created.
The ghost they tried to bury.
I walk toward them.
I can feel the crowd watching, the cameras clicking, the whispers spreading like wildfire.
I stop in front of them.
I smile.
It’s not a warm smile.
It’s a smile of pure, cold triumph.
“Mr.
Martinez.” I incline my head.
“Mrs.
Martinez.
Mrs.
Martinez.”
I address them all by the same name.
The name that should have been mine.
The name I was never allowed to have.
Victoria’s face goes white.
Isabella’s grip on Elijah’s arm tightens.
Elijah just stares at me, his eyes burning with something I can’t quite name.
“CEO Winters,” he says finally.
His voice is rough, controlled.
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
“I didn’t expect to see you at all.” I let my gaze drift to Isabella.
“I hope you’re enjoying the evening, Mrs.
Martinez.
The blood you’re wearing is from my collection.
I hope it suits you as well as my blood did.”
Isabella flinches.
I see it.
The small, involuntary reaction that tells me I’ve hit a nerve.
“How dare you,” she hisses.
“You have no right—”
“I have every right.” I cut her off.
“You faked an illness.
You manipulated my husband.
You destroyed my marriage.
And then you sat back and watched me bleed.”
“That’s not—”
“It is.” I step closer to her.
“You know it.
I know it.
And now everyone in this room knows it.”
The crowd is silent.
The cameras are clicking.
The world is watching.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I say, turning to Elijah.
“Don’t worry.
I’m not going to haunt you.
I have better things to do.”
I walk away.
I don’t look back.
I don’t need to.
I feel his eyes on me.
Burning into my back.
Desperate and hungry and full of everything he never said.
I don’t care.
I don’t care about him.
I don’t care about Isabella.
I don’t care about any of them.
I’m not invisible anymore.
I’m not broken anymore.
I’m not the unwanted wife.
I’m Hannah Winters.
And I’m victorious.
The rest of the night is a blur.
Champagne.
Handshakes.
Smiles.
The performance of a woman who has everything under control.
But inside, I’m shaking.
Inside, I’m terrified.
Inside, I’m still the woman who walked away with nothing and built everything.
I don’t know what happens next.
I don’t know if Elijah will keep pushing.
I don’t know if Isabella will try to destroy me.
But I know one thing.
I’ve survived worse.
And I’ll survive whatever comes next.
Emily finds me in the corner of the VIP area.
She looks exhausted, but her eyes are bright.
“You were incredible,” she says.
“That speech.
That confrontation.
Everything.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I’m not okay.
I’m terrified.
I’m angry.
I’m confused.
But I’m not broken.
And that’s what matters.”
She squeezes my arm.
“That’s what I love about you.
You never give up.”
“I can’t.
I have too much to lose.”
“Are you talking about the twins?”
“Everything.” I meet her eyes.
“Lucas and Lily.
Lavender Group.
My sanity.
Everything I’ve built.
I can’t let him take any of it.”
“He won’t.
I won’t let him.”
I smile.
A real smile this time.
“Thank you.”
The party winds down.
The guests filter out.
The lights dim.
I’m standing by the window, looking out at the city, when I feel his presence behind me.
“I told you to stay away.”
“I can’t.” Elijah’s voice is quiet, rough.
“I’ve tried.
For seven years, I’ve tried to forget you.
I can’t.”
“Then try harder.”
“I don’t want to.” He steps closer.
I can feel the heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze.
“I need to know about the children.”
“They’re not your concern.”
“They’re my children.”
“No.” I turn to face him.
“They’re not.
You gave up any right to them when you signed those papers.”
“I didn’t know—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I cut him off.
“It doesn’t matter.
You made your choice.
You chose her.
You let me go.
You don’t get to come back seven years later and pretend you care.”
He’s silent for a long moment.
Then, quietly: “I do care.”
“Then why didn’t you show it?”
“I was wrong.
I was stupid.
I was—”
“Broken?” I laugh.
“So was I.
But I fixed myself.
I didn’t need anyone to do it for me.”
“Hannah—”
“CEO Winters.” I step back.
“And stay away.
For everyone’s sake.”
I walk away.
I don’t look back.
But I can still feel his eyes on me.
Burning into me.
Following me into the night.
He’s not going to give up.
I know it.
He’s going to keep pushing, keep fighting, keep trying to find a way back into my life.
But I’m not going to let him.
I’ve fought too hard.
I’ve built too much.
I’ve come too far.