That evening, Elena stood in front of her full-length mirror, buttoning the last pearl on her ivory blouse.
Simple. Elegant. Disarming.
Tonight was not about revenge.
Not yet.
Tonight was about reintroducing herself to the wolves.
She had received the invitation two days ago—
From Adrian's mother.
"Family dinner. Sunday. Don't disappoint me again."
No signature. No warmth.
But the Carter in Elena answered anyway.
⸻
The Rivera estate hadn't changed.
Still perched on a hill like a monument to vanity.
Still dripping with chandeliers, imported marble, and fresh orchids from Japan.
And still full of people who once smiled at her with plastic warmth and whispered behind her back.
She rang the bell herself.
No driver. No escort.
When the butler opened the door, he blinked, stunned.
"Miss—Mrs.—I mean… Ms. Carter?"
She smiled.
"Yes. Tell them Elena's here."
⸻
In the dining room, silence fell as she entered.
Adrian was already seated, dark eyes narrowed.
His fiancée, Lilith, froze mid-bite, eyes wide. She hadn't been warned.
Adrian's mother, Victoria Rivera, sipped her wine and finally broke the quiet.
"You're late. But at least you've learned how to dress."
Elena smiled coolly.
"Thank you. I suppose divorce teaches better taste."
A sharp breath from Lilith. A subtle chuckle from Adrian's younger brother.
Victoria smirked.
"I invited you because I admire a woman who rises from ashes. Even if she started the fire herself."
Elena raised her glass.
"To new beginnings. And old debts."
Their eyes met like swords crossing.
⸻
Later, as dessert was served and fake laughter resumed, Adrian leaned close and whispered,
"What's your angle, Elena? Why crawl back?"
She didn't flinch.
"I didn't crawl," she said, sipping her espresso.
"I chose to walk in."
He smirked.
"You'll regret it."
She met his gaze, unwavering.
"No, Adrian. You will."