Chapter 3: The Price of Vengeance
Elara stood under the hot stream of water in the glass-walled shower, letting it scald her skin as if it could burn away the confusion clinging to her like smoke.
You wanted revenge.
You said marrying me would do it.
Killian's words echoed through her mind like a threat disguised as fact.
But she didn't remember any of it.
Wrapped in a plush robe, she padded barefoot across the marble floor of the penthouse, her eyes scanning every cold surface for something—anything—that would explain how her life had spun into a legal nightmare.
A marriage certificate.
A prenup.
A man she despised.
And a part of her she couldn't remember.
She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up her phone from the nightstand. It was dead. She plugged it in and waited, heart racing.
When it finally powered on, dozens of missed calls and messages flooded the screen—from her best friend Mira, her old boss, and one unknown number labeled "KB."
Killian Blake. Wonderful.
She opened her last text to Mira. It was from three nights ago:
Elara: Going to that stupid charity gala tonight. Can't let that bastard win. If I don't make it out alive, burn my diaries.
Typical Elara.
But nothing after that. No photos. No calls. Just… silence.
She set the phone down slowly. What the hell happened at that gala?
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Killian appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a tailored black suit and pale blue tie. He looked like sin wrapped in silk and arrogance.
"You have an appointment," he said. "Stylist. Wardrobe. We're attending a merger dinner tonight."
Elara scoffed. "What, playing house already?"
"Investors want to see stability," he replied, bored. "You're part of that now."
She crossed her arms. "And what do I get in return?"
He tilted his head. "A second chance. At everything you lost."
Her fingers curled into fists.
"Why me?" she asked. "Out of all the women who'd throw themselves at you, why marry the one person who despises you?"
He was quiet for a moment, then stepped into the room.
"Because you're the only one who stood up to me," he said simply. "And because I needed someone who wouldn't fall in love."
His words hit harder than they should have.
"I don't know what you're hiding, Mr. Blake," she said, standing. "But I will find out."
He smiled without humor. "Then I suggest you start looking where it hurts."
And with that, he walked out—leaving her alone in a war she'd somehow started… and had no idea how to end.