Across the city, Victoria Hayes stared at her phone in disbelief.
The email from her agency still glowed on the screen, the words almost too formal, too neutral for what they actually meant.
We regret to inform you…
Her fingers tightened around the device, her hands trembling as she reread the message for what had to be the fifth time. It still didn't make sense. None of it did. Two days ago, everything had been perfectly fine—more than fine. She had just wrapped a campaign, had three more lined up, contracts signed, schedules confirmed.
Her future had been secure.
Planned.
And now it was gone.
Not gradually. Not with warning.
Just—gone.
Every contract canceled. Every brand pulling out. Calls unanswered. Messages left on read. It wasn't just one thing falling apart—it was everything, all at once, like someone had reached into her life and pulled a single thread that unraveled the entire structure.
That didn't happen.
Not like this.
Unless—
Her breath caught sharply.
Adrian.
The thought hit her with sudden, sickening clarity.
Victoria moved without thinking, already dialing his number as her pulse spiked. She pressed the phone to her ear, pacing now, her free hand gripping the edge of the counter to steady herself.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then the line cut off.
She froze, staring at the screen for a second before calling again, this time faster, more urgent.
Nothing.
The call didn't even connect.
A cold weight settled in her stomach.
No.
He wouldn't do that.
Would he?
Victoria swallowed hard, her thoughts racing as she scrolled through her contacts, her fingers moving faster now, less controlled. She found the number she needed and pressed call before she could hesitate.
His assistant.
The line connected almost immediately.
"Mr. Virelli's office."
The voice was smooth, professional, exactly the same as always, as if nothing in the world had shifted.
"This is Victoria Hayes," she said quickly, the words coming out sharper than she intended. "I need to speak to Adrian."
There was a pause.
Brief.
Measured.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Hayes," the assistant replied, his tone perfectly even, "but Mr. Virelli will not be available to you in the foreseeable future."
Victoria blinked, the words taking a second too long to register.
"What does that mean?"
Another pause, just long enough to feel deliberate.
"It means," the assistant continued calmly, "that you should not attempt to contact him again."
The line went dead.
Victoria lowered the phone slowly, her pulse now racing in her ears, her thoughts struggling to catch up with what had just happened.
This wasn't distance.
This wasn't avoidance.
This was something else entirely.
Something final.
A door that hadn't just been closed—
but sealed.
And she had no idea why.
Elena didn't expect to see her.
At first, she thought it was just another interruption—another small disturbance in the perfectly controlled rhythm of the house. Raised voices near the gate weren't normal, but they weren't alarming either. Not here. Not in a place where everything was managed before it had the chance to become a problem.
But then she saw her.
And everything sharpened.
Victoria Hayes stood just beyond the gate, arguing with one of the security men, her posture rigid, her movements too sharp, too unfiltered for this place. Even from a distance, Elena could see that something was wrong. The confidence from the photographs was still there—but cracked now, strained at the edges.
Elena didn't hesitate.
She walked toward the door, her steps steady, controlled, even as her pulse began to rise. By the time she stepped outside, the argument had quieted just enough for the tension to settle into something heavier.
Both of them turned toward her.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The recognition came instantly.
Victoria's gaze lingered just a fraction too long, her expression shifting as she placed Elena exactly where she belonged.
His wife.
The air changed.
"Mrs. Virelli," the guard said quickly, stepping forward. "She's not authorized to—"
"Let her in."
The words came out calmly.
Decisively.
The guard hesitated.
Just long enough to confirm what Elena already knew.
"I'm afraid I can't do that without—"
Elena turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him with quiet precision.
"Then don't," she said. Her voice didn't rise. "But don't expect to come back to work tomorrow."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Heavy.
The guard stiffened.
Then, without another word, he stepped aside and signaled for the gate to open.
Victoria didn't move right away.
She watched Elena instead, something cautious flickering in her expression now, as if she were reassessing the situation entirely.
Good.
She should.
"Come in," Elena said, already turning toward the house.
She didn't wait to see if Victoria followed.
She knew she would.
—
The door closed behind them with a soft, final click.
Elena led the way into the living room, her posture straight, composed, every movement deliberate. She didn't rush. She didn't look back. She gave Victoria just enough space to feel like she was walking in on equal ground—
even though she wasn't.
Not even close.
"Sit," Elena said, gesturing lightly toward the sofa.
Victoria hesitated, then stepped forward, her eyes scanning the space briefly before settling back on Elena.
"My name is Victoria," she said, as if that meant something.
Elena's expression didn't change. Victoria shifted slightly, her confidence returning in small, careful increments.
"I'm a friend of Adrian's."
Elena almost smiled. Instead, she inclined her head just slightly, as if she were accepting the statement at face value.
"Of course you are."
Victoria exhaled, clearly taking that as a sign that she still had control over the situation.
"I'm sorry to show up like this," she continued, her tone softening, more calculated now. "I just… I don't understand what's happening. Something changed overnight. My agency dropped me this morning, brands are pulling out, people aren't returning my calls…"
Her voice wavered, just enough to make it believable.
"I thought maybe I did something. Something that upset him."
Elena watched her.
Really watched her and for a moment, she almost believed her.
Almost.
Then she remembered the envelope.
The photos.
The messages.
The precision of it.
"No," Elena said quietly.
Victoria stilled.
"You didn't upset my husband. You upset me."
The shift was immediate. Victoria's eyes widened slightly, her composure faltering.
"I don't—"
"And now you're facing the consequences."
Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating.
Victoria stared at her, something like realization flickering through her expression, but it didn't fully settle.
Not yet.
"How do you—" she started, then stopped, her voice catching slightly. "I don't understand what you're talking about."
Elena's gaze hardened.
So that was the angle.
Denial.
Pretending she didn't know.
Pretending she hadn't sent anything.
"Listen," Victoria said quickly, stepping forward now, her tone shifting, more urgent. "I don't know what he told you, but—"
Elena cut her off.
"First of all, we are not equals. Sleeping with my husband does not give you the right to speak to me like we are."
Victoria froze.
"Elena—"
"Elena?" she repeated softly.
A faint, humorless smile touched her lips.
"Victoria, I am Mrs. Virelli to you. I always will be."
The words landed exactly as intended.
Victoria swallowed, her confidence slipping further now.
"El—Mrs. Virelli," she corrected quickly, her voice tightening.
Elena took another step closer.
"Oh yes," she continued quietly. "I know about the affair. I know about the hotels, the messages, the details you so carefully documented."
Victoria's expression shifted completely now.
Confusion.
Shock.
Real this time.
"What are you talking about?" she said, her voice unsteady. "I didn't send you anything."
Elena's eyes narrowed slightly.
Of course. She was going to play it this way.
"Victoria," she said, her tone softening just enough to make it more cutting, "I'm not interested in games."
"I'm not—" Victoria stopped, her breath uneven now. "I swear, I don't know what you mean."
Elena held her gaze searching for the lie. But what she saw was something else.
Fear.
Real fear.
A small, quiet doubt slipped into her mind but it wasn't enough to stop her.
"I feel sorry for you," Elena said finally.
Victoria blinked.
"What?"
"You thought sleeping with someone like him would take you somewhere," she continued, her voice calm, almost reflective now. "That it would mean something. That it would change your life."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You chose the wrong husband."
Victoria's composure cracked completely.
"Mrs. Virelli," she said, her voice trembling now, dangerously close to breaking. "I worked for everything I have. I built my career myself. I didn't—this wasn't—"
She stopped, swallowing hard.
"Please."
Elena studied her for a moment then nodded slowly.
"I don't doubt that," she said.
And for the first time there was something almost genuine in her tone.
"But Adrian Virelli was never someone you should have started a war with."
Victoria went still.
"War?" she whispered.
Elena held her gaze.
"Yes. You should leave. He's probably already on his way," Elena added quietly. "And for your own safety… you might want to leave the city for a while."
The meaning behind the words settled in slowly.
He wasn't just ending things. He was erasing her.
Elena turned slightly, her gaze shifting toward the doorway.
"Walt."
He appeared almost instantly.
"Walk Ms. Hayes out."
Victoria hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded stiffly, her expression pale now, shaken in a way she hadn't been when she arrived.
As she turned to leave—
the front door opened.
The sound cut through the room.
Elena didn't need to look to know who it was.
Adrian stood in the doorway.
His gaze moved from Victoria to Elena and something in the air shifted instantly.
Because this... this wasn't part of the plan.