The Crystal Pavilion of the Vance Estate was a masterpiece of unimaginable wealth. Diamonds dripped from the chandeliers, and every guest in the room was a titan of global industry.
Julian Thorne stood near the back, sweating through his tuxedo. Next to him, Chloe looked around greedily, clinging to his arm.
"Julian, this place is incredible!" Chloe whispered, her eyes wide. "If you can just get the Vance Heiress to invest in us, we'll be billionaires again! I bet she's some ugly, arrogant rich girl. You can charm her easily."
Julian adjusted his tie, puffing out his chest. "Exactly. I just need five minutes with her. I'll make her forget all about that Vanguard termination letter. I'm Julian Thorne, after all."
Suddenly, the music stopped. The room fell into a breathless hush.
At the top of the grand marble staircase stood Arthur Vance, the patriarch of the trillion-dollar Vance family.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the old man's voice boomed through the pavilion. "For three years, my precious granddaughter chose to hide her identity to experience ordinary life. But today, the rightful ruler of the Vance Empire has returned. Please, welcome my sole heir... Elara Vance!"
The spotlight shifted.
When the woman stepped into the light, a collective gasp echoed through the room.
She was wearing a custom, deep-crimson gown that flowed like liquid fire. Diamonds rested against her collarbones, but they were entirely overshadowed by the cold, breathtaking beauty of her face. She looked like a goddess descending from the heavens to judge mortals.
At the back of the room, Julian's champagne glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the marble floor.
"Elara...?" Julian choked out, his eyes bulging out of his head. He couldn't breathe. His brain completely short-circuited.
"Julian, isn't that... your ex-wife?" Chloe squeaked, her face turning chalk-white. "Why is she up there? Did she sneak in?!"
"Shut up!" Julian hissed. Driven by pure desperation and denial, he pushed his way through the crowd of billionaires. He couldn't accept it. The woman who washed his socks? The woman he threw away for a hundred thousand dollars?
"Elara!" Julian shouted, breaking through the front row. He reached out to grab her arm. "Elara, what is the meaning of this?! Stop playing games and tell them you're my wife!"
Before his fingers could even graze her silk dress, two massive bodyguards slammed Julian into the floor, pressing his face against the cold marble.
"Let me go! She's my wife!" Julian screamed, struggling pathetically.
Elara didn't even flinch. She slowly walked down the remaining stairs, her ruby heels clicking menacingly. She stopped right in front of Julian, looking down at him with eyes as cold as the arctic sea.
"Ex-wife, Mr. Thorne," Elara corrected, her voice smooth and echoing through the silent room. "And I seem to recall you telling me yesterday that I was a 'penniless woman who didn't belong in your world'."
The surrounding billionaires gasped, looking at Julian like he was a dead man. He divorced the Vance Heiress?! Is he insane?!
"Elara, please! I was wrong! I was confused!" Julian begged, tears streaming down his face as the reality of his bankruptcy and stupidity crushed him. "I love you! I'll fire Chloe right now! Just give me my company back!"
"Your company?" Elara smirked, a dangerous, elegant curve of her lips. "I bought its remaining debts an hour ago. Thorne Enterprises doesn't exist anymore. You are officially nothing."
Julian wailed in despair, but before he could say another word, the massive oak doors of the pavilion were kicked open.
The temperature in the room instantly plummeted.
A heavy, suffocating aura of blood and absolute power swept over the crowd. The billionaires, mayors, and tycoons instantly parted like the Red Sea, lowering their heads in sheer terror.
Darius Blackwood.
The Mafia King.
He was dressed in a flawless, pitch-black suit, looking completely healthy despite the bullet Elara had extracted from his chest just last night. His dark, predatory eyes ignored every single important figure in the room, locking solely onto the woman in the crimson dress.
He walked straight toward Elara, his footsteps heavy and authoritative.
When he reached her, the most feared man in the underworld did the unthinkable.
He didn't bow. He didn't shake her hand.
Darius wrapped his strong arm around Elara's waist, pulling her flush against his chest, and lowered his head, pressing his lips against the shell of her ear.
"You look stunning, my Living Yama," Darius murmured, his low, magnetic voice carrying just enough for Julian to hear. "But I don't like other men looking at what belongs to me."
He slowly turned his lethal gaze down to Julian, who was still pinned to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.
"Is this the trash that made you cry, Elara?" Darius asked, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. "Say the word, darling, and I'll feed him to my hounds."