Late in the afternoon, Amelia stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her penthouse suite, watching the city skyline darken into twilight. Her phone buzzed. It was an unexpected message.
"Dinner tonight. 8 PM. Casa di Bellagio. Come alone. — Julian."
She narrowed her eyes at the name. Julian Lancaster.
The heir of the Lancaster Conglomerate. Her ex-husband's biggest rival.
And once, her closest confidant.
Amelia's lips curled slightly. She knew better than to believe in coincidences—especially now. Julian wasn't reaching out for small talk. He never did.
She slipped into a sleek black dress, the kind that hugged every line of power she had reclaimed. Elegant. Dominating. Not for seduction, but for war.
⸻
Casa di Bellagio was drenched in golden light and exclusivity. When Amelia walked in, conversations paused. All eyes turned. She didn't just walk into the restaurant—she owned the moment.
Julian was already there, sitting in the farthest booth, a glass of red wine in hand. He stood up when he saw her.
"Still as dramatic as ever," he said with a grin.
"And you still enjoy your theatrics," she replied, sliding into the seat across from him.
There was a beat of silence. Then he leaned forward, voice low.
"I heard about your return. And how you've…rearranged a few things. The board of Steelmark is shaking."
Amelia stirred her wine. "I'm just reclaiming what was always mine."
Julian chuckled. "Good. Because I want in."
She looked up. "In?"
"I want to back you. Financially. Publicly. Whatever it takes." He paused. "Your ex-husband is bleeding power. I plan to be the one who takes the final bite. But I'd rather do it with you."
Amelia's heart didn't skip. Her eyes didn't soften. She was no longer the girl who used to trust.
But this—this was interesting.
"I'll think about it," she said coolly.
Julian leaned back, satisfied. "Just don't take too long. He's not the only one with enemies."