The city looked like it was dipped in gold that night—every window glowing, every street humming like it knew a storm was coming. And maybe it did. Because the moment I stepped out of the car in front of the Sterling Tower, the wind picked up, almost like the city was whispering my name.
Or warning me.
I walked forward anyway.
My heels clicked on the marble like a countdown. Lights followed my path. Every pair of eyes I passed widened just slightly, like they remembered the old Serena and couldn't reconcile her with the woman walking into the lion's den tonight.
Good.
Let them choke on the difference.
Sterling Tower wasn't just a building—it was a throne room disguised as a skyscraper. My step-sister's engagement party was happening on the 54th floor. The woman who stole my fiancé, my future, and the life I was foolish enough to think belonged to me.
Tonight, I wasn't here to cry.
I was here to haunt.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and the music hit first—violins, elegant chatter, the clinking of champagne glasses. Wealth had a sound. I used to think it was comforting.
Now it just sounded like lies.
People turned when I entered the hall.
Gasps. Stares. Whispers ripping through the room like wildfire.
"She came?"
"Isn't that—"
"She looks… different."
"Stronger."
Good.
I wasn't here to be invisible ever again.
I kept my chin high as I moved through the glittering crowd, pretending I didn't feel a thousand eyes slicing into me. My dress—deep ebony with a slit that could kill a man at twenty paces—hugged my figure like armor. The diamonds at my neck weren't subtle. They weren't meant to be.
Everything about me tonight was a warning shot.
And then I saw him.
Ethan.
My ex-fiancé. My mistake. My lesson.
He froze mid-sentence when his eyes landed on me. His pupils dilated, his jaw clenched, and for a second—just a second—he looked like a man watching the consequences of his own choices walk straight toward him in stilettos.
"Serena…?" he breathed, disbelief coating every syllable.
I didn't give him the satisfaction of a nod.
Behind him stood my step-sister, Clara, wrapped in a champagne-colored dress that looked like it was terrified of being outshined.
Too bad for her.
She blinked, confused, then laughed—too loud, too desperate.
"You… actually came."
I smiled. "Why wouldn't I? It's not every day a girl gets to watch her ex downgrade."
The crowd gasped like I had slapped Clara with a gold bar.
Ethan opened his mouth—maybe to defend her, maybe to lie again, who knows—but I held up a hand.
"No need," I said sweetly. "Save the theatrics for the vows you stole."
His throat bobbed. He took a step toward me, his voice dropping.
"Serena, we need to talk."
"No," I said simply. "You need to regret."
Before he could answer, a soft ripple went through the room—whispers shifting direction, attention sliding away from me and toward the entrance.
That's when he walked in.
A tall man in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than Ethan's car. Confident stride. Sharp jaw. Cold, unreadable eyes. The kind of presence that made the air bend around him like he owned every inch of oxygen within his radius.
Every woman stared.
Every man shrank.
But his eyes—those piercing, deliberate eyes—went straight to me.
And didn't move.
My pulse stuttered.
Oh no.
Not here.
Not tonight.
Ethan followed everyone else's gaze, and his entire expression shifted—from confusion, to recognition, to something dangerously close to fear.
"Why is he here?" Ethan asked under his breath.
Good question.
Because the man walking toward me—slow, steady, unstoppable—was the same one who offered me power in the darkness. The same one who pulled me out of the wreckage when I had nothing left. The man whose name people whispered but never spoke aloud without trembling.
Aidan Wolfe.
The billionaire. The ghost of the underworld. The man every business empire secretly answered to.
And the man who said he wanted to help me destroy everyone who tried to destroy me.
He stopped in front of me.
"Serena." His voice was low, smooth, the kind that made the whole room lean in without meaning to. "You didn't tell me the party started without me."
My breath caught.
He wasn't touching me, but it felt like he was.
"Didn't realize you were invited," I managed.
"I wasn't."
He smiled slightly.
"I came for you."
Ethan stiffened so hard I heard his spine crack.
Clara's face twisted like she bit into a lemon.
"Why… why would he come for you?" Clara spat.
Aidan's smile sharpened. "Because she's the only one in this room worth coming for."
The gasps this time were volcanic.
Ethan's jaw locked. "Serena, what is going on?"
I didn't answer—Aidan did.
"She's done suffering because of you," he said coolly. "I'm here to make sure of it."
The room went silent.
Frozen.
Electrified.
I turned to Aidan, swallowing hard. "You didn't have to do this."
He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping low enough that only I could hear.
"I told you. I don't make offers I don't plan to see through."
My chest tightened—not in the painful way Ethan used to make me feel, but in a new, terrifying, exhilarating way I wasn't prepared for.
Before I could speak, a loud crash echoed through the hall. A tray of champagne flutes had shattered near the table. Gasps rose again. Ethan's father stormed toward us with fury in his eyes.
"Serena, you have no right to be here!" he barked.
I lifted my chin. "Funny. I didn't need your permission."
"This is a private event!"
"It's a public humiliation," I corrected.
Clara's voice cracked. "You're ruining everything!"
Aidan stepped in front of me like a shield. Like it was instinct.
"Actually," he said, "Serena is just getting started."
The temperature of the room dropped.
Ethan stared at me, pale. "Serena… why him? Why are you with—"
"I'm not with him," I said.
Aidan's gaze flicked to me—surprised, then amused, then something softer.
"But unlike you," I continued, "he doesn't pretend I'm invisible."
Clara scoffed. "You think he actually cares about you? Aidan Wolfe doesn't even keep friends. He doesn't—"
Aidan cut her off with a single glance that shut her completely down.
Then he turned back to me.
"Serena."
The way he said my name felt like breaking and rebuilding all in one breath.
"Walk with me," he said quietly.
The crowd parted like the sea.
My heart hammered.
I hesitated—not because I doubted him, but because the girl I used to be would never have walked away from a fight.
But I wasn't her anymore.
So I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm.
And Ethan cracked.
"Serena, wait—please!"
I stopped.
Just for a heartbeat.
The old me would've turned around.
But the new me?
I didn't even bother to look back.
"I'm done waiting," I said. "For you. For anyone."
Aidan's fingers brushed mine.
And we walked out of the hall—past the whispers, past the stares, past the man who thought I'd always be his backup plan.
The elevator doors closed behind us, sealing off the chaos.
Aidan didn't speak for a long moment.
Then—
"You handled that well."
I let out a shaky breath. "I'm not sure I handled anything."
"You did," he said. "And you're going to handle more."
"More?" I asked.
He looked at me like he was seeing the future and it terrified him in a good way.
"Tonight was only the beginning."
Something cold and thrilling slid down my spine.
"What's next?" I whispered.
Aidan Wolfe smiled.
"Revenge."