Elena pushed herself upright, one hand braced on the bed while the other clutched her stomach. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Mum, I was foolish to love something that was never real." Tears gathered, but she wiped them away quickly. "You always warned me that men can see us as prey… but you never told me the worst danger comes from the people we trust the most."
She drew in a shaky breath, gripping the blanket as if it could keep her steady. "But I am not alone anymore." Her hand rose gently to her belly, a small protective gesture. "My baby… my reason to breathe. I will not let them win. I will get my revenge for everything they have done."
The door flew open. Stella stormed inside, her voice rough with panic. "Elena! What is wrong with you? Suicide? Do you not care about the people who love you?"
Elena stared at her in silence.
Family. The same family that scattered when her parents died? The same people who only appeared when they smelled money? Would they even be here now if they knew she had lost it all?
"Elena!" Stella's voice shook her out of her thoughts.
Elena took a slow breath. "Sorry. I just… lost everything."
Stella's face hardened. "What do you mean?"
Elena's hands curled into tight fists. "Chloe sold my dad's company. She sold the mansion too. Everything is gone."
Stella's mouth fell open. "What? How? I thought you two were like sisters!"
Elena let out a small, cold laugh. "And Charles… none of it was real. He was not kidnapped. He was working with her the whole time."
Stella stepped back as if she had been slapped. "Oh my God."
Elena touched her stomach again, almost without thinking. "But they did leave me something," she said quietly. "They left me this."
Stella's anger softened into something warmer. "You are going to have a baby."
Elena nodded. The fire in her eyes returned. "I have something to live for now. And I promise you, Stella… I will make them pay."
Stella moved to her side and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "You are not alone, Elena. I know I disappeared when your parents passed, and maybe it feels like we drifted apart. But I have always seen you as my sister. Your mum saved my life once. I could never abandon you."
Emotion rose in Elena's chest, making her eyes sting. "Thank you, Stella. That means more than you know."
Stella pulled back and studied her face. "So what now? What do we do?"
Elena's expression sharpened with fierce determination. I need to get my shares back at all costs.
Stella nodded firmly. "Alright. What is the plan?"
Elena paused. She had already checked. Clifford was never going to return those shares. Even if he did, the price alone was something she could never afford. But Stella did not need that burden.
"It will not be easy," Elena said, choosing her words with care. "But I have an idea."
Stella crossed her arms. "I am listening."
"I need cash," Elena said slowly. "A lot of it. And there is only one person who can get me that kind of money fast."
Stella frowned. "Who?"
Elena let out a rough breath. "An old friend. A playboy. But he has never turned me down."
Stella's brows rose. "And what exactly does that mean?"
"It means I have to play the game the way it is meant to be played," Elena replied with a dry, humorless sneer. "And right now, I am all in."
She met Stella's gaze with a firm look. "You are the only one who knows I am pregnant. I want it to stay that way. I will not let that bastard find out he got me pregnant."
Stella nodded fast. "You can trust me. I won't say anything."
"Good. Now help me get the nurse. I need to know when I can leave this place."
"Alright, I'll go now," Stella said and stepped out.
---
Elena was discharged not long after, and she wasted no time. She already knew her next target. Victor Sherlock. Playboy. Trouble. Heir to Sherlock Motors, the biggest automobile company in New York.
It was a Friday night. If Victor followed his usual pattern—and he always did—he would be at All Stars, the exclusive nightclub only the rich and powerful could walk into. Thanks to her late father, Elena still held a VIP card that could open any door in that building.
She dressed for war.
A fitted dark red satin dress hugged her figure, the slit running high enough to reveal miles of smooth leg each time she moved. The front dipped low, the back dipped lower, and her black stilettos clicked sharply with every step. Her dark hair fell in soft waves, and her deep red lipstick matched the wine she held like it was part of her outfit.
She walked into All Stars with the same quiet fire she used to carry as the Moretti heiress. Heads turned. Whispers followed her.
Finding Victor was easy.
He sat in the middle of a circle of beautiful women, laughing and enjoying the attention. Typical Victor. Elena smiled faintly as she stepped forward and took a seat across from him. She did not call his name. She did not wave. She simply tilted her head slowly, took a long sip of wine, and met his eyes with a look that said get over here.
Victor's grin froze for a heartbeat. Then his teeth grazed his lower lip, and his gaze swept over her, full of hungry curiosity. Well, well, well… he thought, rising to his feet. His walk toward her was slow and confident, the kind of swagger that made half the women in the club glare in envy.
"Elena Moretti," he said with a lazy drawl, amusement dancing in his green eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here. This place is not your scene. What brings you to my playground?"
Elena leaned forward a little, letting the soft light catch her neckline. Her voice was low, smooth, and dangerous. "Let's talk somewhere quieter."
She did not wait for him. She slid a hand down his arm, just enough to send a message, then turned and walked toward one of the private balconies. She knew he would follow her. He always followed her.
Outside, the balcony overlooked the glowing New York skyline. Cars raced below, lights flickered across glass buildings, and the night breeze carried the faint sound of music from the club. But neither of them looked at the view.
Elena rested one hand on the railing and watched Victor as he stepped beside her, sipping his whiskey.
Victor Sherlock was trouble dressed in expensive suits. Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp jaw. Green eyes that sparkled with mischief even when he was silent. His dark brown hair was always slightly messy, as if he had just rolled out of someone's bed. Women adored him. Men envied him.
But Elena knew the truth.
Behind the charm and the smirk was a mind that could cut through steel. Victor was brilliant, unpredictable, and dangerous in the best possible way. He was one of the few men she respected… and one of the even fewer she knew she could use.
And tonight, she needed him.
"I have to say, you look even more stunning than I remember," Victor said, his green eyes sweeping over her with open appreciation. "I thought you were all business and no fun. Don't tell me you've been quietly missing my cute face." He smirked with that annoyingly confident charm he was famous for.
Elena rolled her eyes, lifting her glass with a teasing smile. "Please. If anything, you've gotten uglier."
Victor threw his head back in laughter. "That is my Elena. The only woman who can drag me and still expect me to smile about it."
"I'm just telling the truth," she said with a small shrug. "And truth shouldn't come with punishment, should it?"
He leaned his elbows on the railing, watching her with growing interest. "Alright, let's stop playing. You're not the type to show up here for fun. And you've never cared about my charms. Honestly, I'm not even sure you're the type who falls for men at all."
For a heartbeat, Elena's smile slipped. She caught herself quickly, brushing off the moment with a soft, amused chuckle. "Then you don't know me as well as you think, Victor. Because I did fall for someone. And I loved him too much."
Victor blinked in surprise. "Really now. Must be one hell of a man. Better than me at the game, I guess."
Elena laughed, but it was sharp and cold. "Far from it. He wasn't a man. He was a scam. A con artist dressed as a savior. And I… was fooled."
Victor's playful smirk faded. His eyes darkened, the atmosphere shifting as his voice fell lower. "I can't believe someone actually slipped through your guard."
"Neither can I." She lifted her chin, burying the small crack in her voice as if it never existed. She stepped closer to him, the city lights reflecting off her wine glass. "Victor, I need your help. I want you to invest in my father's company. I need you to buy five hundred million dollars' worth of stock."
Victor inhaled sharply and choked on his drink. He coughed, thumped his chest, then stared at her as if she had suddenly grown horns. "You're joking. There is no way you're serious."
Elena's face did not move an inch. "I'm serious."
Victor slowly set his glass down, all traces of humor draining from his expression. "Hold on." His voice dropped, steadier now. "You want what?" He stared at her in open shock, waiting for her to take it back.