The Hart mansion had never looked so radiant. Crystal chandeliers bathed the grand hall in golden light, while polished marble floors reflected the shimmer of gowns and jewels. The scent of roses filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet. Every corner buzzed with whispers—business magnates, socialites, and dignitaries had all gathered for the much-anticipated engagement of Elena Hart and Damian Cross.
For many, it was the union of two powerful families. For Elena, it was the stage of her rebirth.
She stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in the gown Sophia had once used to humiliate her. Ivory silk clung to her figure, the delicate lace glowing under the chandelier's light. In her first life, she had stumbled down those very steps, laughter echoing in her ears. But tonight, she descended like a queen. Her head was high, her movements fluid, her beauty undeniable.
Gasps rose from the crowd. Murmurs followed.
"She's stunning…"
"No wonder Damian chose her."
"Such poise—like she was born for this."
Elena's lips curved into a serene smile. Each word was a balm to the wound she once carried, and a blade she intended to turn against those who wronged her.
At the bottom of the stairs, Damian waited in his tailored suit. His cold, unreadable eyes lifted to hers. For a fleeting moment, something flickered in them—surprise? Desire? But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
He offered his hand. "Elena."
She placed her fingers lightly in his. "Damian."
The warmth of his palm was familiar, yet it no longer stirred her heart. All she felt was steel.
---
Sophia hovered nearby, dressed in a crimson gown that hugged her curves. It was too bold for a guest, too attention-grabbing. She might as well have painted "look at me" across her body.
"Elena, you look divine," Sophia gushed, her smile wide enough to crack. "Damian won't be able to take his eyes off you all night."
Her tone was sweet, but her nails dug into Damian's arm possessively.
Elena's eyes glinted. "Thank you, Sophia. But you underestimate Damian. He has always been very disciplined, hasn't he?"
Her words were wrapped in innocence, but the subtle jab made Damian stiffen. Sophia's smile faltered, though she quickly recovered.
The game had begun.
---
The engagement ceremony proceeded with grandeur. Glasses clinked, laughter echoed, and the air was filled with celebration. Elena played her role flawlessly—smiling when spoken to, laughing at the right moments, gracious with compliments. But beneath her perfect mask, her mind worked like a blade, slicing through every gesture, every glance, every whisper.
At one point, an elderly business associate approached her. "Miss Hart, you are truly radiant tonight. Damian is a lucky man."
Elena's smile was dazzling. "Thank you, Mr. Howard. I only hope I can live up to his… expectations."
Damian's gaze flicked to her sharply at the faint emphasis she placed on the word. He sensed the shift in her tone, but he couldn't pin it down.
Sophia, on the other hand, bristled. Her eyes darted between them, calculating.
---
Dinner was served in the grand ballroom. Long tables adorned with gold-trimmed china and crystal glasses stretched beneath chandeliers. Elena sat beside Damian at the head, Sophia just across from them. The arrangement was deliberate, Vivienne's doing—her stepmother always favored Sophia, thinking her more suitable as Damian's partner.
"Elena," Vivienne purred, lifting her glass, "you've done well tonight. Let's hope you can maintain this level of grace in your marriage."
The words were coated with venom, meant to belittle.
Elena's smile didn't waver. "Thank you, Stepmother. I intend to maintain much more than grace." She raised her glass, her gaze sweeping over Damian and Sophia. "After all, appearances must be… flawless."
A ripple of unease crossed the table. Damian's jaw tightened. Sophia shifted in her seat. Vivienne's lips pursed.
Elena sipped her wine, her smile serene.
---
As the evening progressed, Elena's first act of subtle revenge unfolded.
When the emcee invited Damian and Elena to dance, she glided into his arms with effortless elegance. The crowd watched with admiration as they moved across the polished floor, her gown trailing like a whisper of silk.
But Elena leaned closer, her breath brushing Damian's ear. "Don't frown so much, Damian. People might think you're unhappy to be engaged."
His steps faltered slightly, though he quickly recovered. "You're bolder tonight," he muttered.
"Am I?" Her lips curved, though her voice was ice. "Or maybe I've simply stopped trying to please you."
His gaze darkened, but before he could reply, she spun gracefully, forcing him to follow her lead. To the watching crowd, it appeared a perfect performance. But beneath the elegance, Damian's pride was being chipped away.
When the dance ended, applause thundered through the hall. Damian released her hand with a stiffness that did not go unnoticed.
Sophia's eyes burned with jealousy.
---
Later, while mingling with guests, Elena noticed Sophia slip away toward the garden. Curious murmurs followed her absence—whispers Elena remembered from her first life. That was the night Sophia had lured Damian into a secluded corner, sharing a laugh that would become a scandalous rumor.
Not this time.
Elena excused herself gracefully and followed. The garden was lit with lanterns, the scent of roses thick in the air. She found Sophia waiting near the fountain, glancing anxiously toward the path.
Footsteps approached. Damian.
Elena's lips curved. Perfect.
Before Sophia could reach him, Elena stepped into the moonlight, her gown glowing like a vision. "Damian, there you are. I was looking for you."
Sophia froze, her smile brittle. "Elena! I was just… getting some air."
Elena tilted her head, her expression innocent. "Oh? You seemed to be waiting. Should I leave you two alone?"
Her tone was so calm, so composed, that Damian frowned. For once, he seemed unsure. "No. Let's go, Elena."
He offered his arm, and Elena accepted gracefully, leaving Sophia standing alone by the fountain, her face pale beneath the lantern light.
The first victory was hers.
---
As the night drew on, Elena returned to the grand hall, her presence commanding every eye. Guests whispered of her beauty, her composure, her charm. No one saw the cracks beneath Damian's mask, the jealousy burning in Sophia's gaze, or the fury simmering in Vivienne's heart.
Elena stood at the center of it all, her smile serene.
The party of masks had ended, but her game had only begun.
This time, I will not be the fool. This time, the world will watch Damian Cross and Sophia Lane fall to their knees.