Elena propped herself up in bed, clutching her stomach. Her mind was blank as she whispered, "Mum, I was stupid to love a lie." Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. "You always warned me that men see us as prey, but you never told me that the worst danger can come from the very ones we trust the most."
She took in a shaky breath, her fists tightening around the hospital blanket. "But I am no longer alone." Her hand rose protectively to her belly. "My baby—my reason for living. I won't let them win. I'll get my revenge for everything they've done."
The door slammed open, and Stella burst in, panic in her voice. "Elena! What's wrong with you? Suicide?! Don't you care about the people who love you?"
Elena sat quietly, staring. Family, she thought. The same family that disappeared when her parents died? The same ones who only showed up when they thought they'd gain from my inheritance? Would they even be here if they knew I'd lost everything?
"Elena!" Stella's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
Elena took a deep breath. "Sorry. I just… lost everything."
"What do you mean?" Stella asked, her tone sharp and angry.
Elena clenched her fists. "Chloe sold my Dad's business. She sold the mansion. It's all gone."
Stella's jaw dropped in shock. "What?! How?! I thought you two were best friends!"
Elena let out a cold laugh. "And Charles… he was never taken. It was all fake. He was in on it with her from the start."
Stella stepped back as if the betrayal had slapped her in the face. "Oh my God…"
Elena's hand instinctively went to her stomach. "But they did leave me something," she said, her voice rising. "They left me this."
Stella's expression softened. "You're going to have a baby…"
Elena nodded, fire in her eyes. "I have something to fight for now. And I swear to you, Stella—I'll make them pay."
Stella pulled Elena into a close hug. "You're not alone, Elena. I know I wasn't there when your parents died, and maybe it feels like there's some distance between us. But I've always thought of you as my sister. Your mum saved my life once—I could never turn my back on you."
Elena swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "Thanks, Stella. That means a lot."
Stella leaned back, studying her face. "So what now? What do we do?"
Elena's expression turned firm. "I have to get my shares back."
Stella nodded. "Okay. What's our next move?"
Elena hesitated. She had already done her research—Clifford would never sell the shares back to her, no matter what. And even if he did, the cost was far beyond her reach. But Stella didn't need to know that.
"It won't be easy," Elena said carefully. "But I have an idea."
Stella folded her arms. "I'm listening."
"I need cash," Elena continued. "A lot of it. And there's only one person who can get me that kind of money—fast."
Stella frowned. "Who?"
Elena exhaled sharply. "An old friend. A playboy—but one who never says no to me."
Stella's eyes narrowed. "And what does that mean?"
Elena sneered, without humor. "It means I have to play the game the way it's meant to be played. And right now, I'm all in."
She pinned Stella with a stern look. "You're the only one who knows I'm pregnant, and I'd prefer it stays that way. I don't want that bastard finding out he got me pregnant."
Stella nodded immediately. "I understand. I won't say a word."
"Good. Now, help me get the nurse. I need to find out when I can go home."
"Okay, I'll be right back," Stella said before leaving the room.
---
Elena was discharged soon after and wasted no time preparing for her next move. She had only one person in mind—Victor Sherlock, the infamous playboy and heir to Sherlock Motors, the largest automobile company in New York.
It was a Friday night, and if Elena was right, Victor would be at All Stars—an exclusive nightclub reserved for the country's elite. Only VIPs could enter, and thanks to her late father, she had a card that granted her access.
Dressed to kill, she slipped into a figure-hugging, dark red satin dress with a dangerously high slit, revealing her long legs. The low neckline and backless design ensured all eyes would be on her, while black stilettos added to her commanding presence. Her dark hair cascaded in soft waves, and the deep red lipstick on her lips matched the wine in her glass as she walked into the club like she owned it.
She had no trouble finding Victor—right in the center of a group of beautiful women, laughing, drinking, and reveling in their attention. Elena smiled as she walked over, taking a seat across from him. Then, with nothing more than a slow, sensual tilt of her head and the way she sipped her wine—unhurried, deliberate—she summoned him to her side.
Victor's smile faltered for just a second before he leaned back, his teeth grazing his lower lip, his gaze dragging over her with raw, undisguised hunger. Well, well, well… what do we have here? he mused before rising to his feet and strolling toward her with effortless confidence.
"Elena Moretti," he drawled, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here. This isn't your scene. What brings you to my playground?"
Elena leaned forward just slightly, her voice low and inviting. "Let's talk about this somewhere quieter."
Without waiting for a response, she trailed a slim hand down his arm before turning and moving toward a private balcony, knowing full well he would follow.
The balcony overlooked the twinkling city lights of New York, but neither of them spared it a glance. Elena leaned against the railing, her eyes fixed on Victor as he sipped his whiskey.
Victor Sherlock was an effortless, charming, personified—tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing green eyes, always glinting with mischief. His dark brown hair was artfully tousled, his sharp jaw and cocky smile impossible to ignore. Women flocked to him, drawn by his charisma and wealth, but Elena knew better. Beneath his silver tongue and playboy antics, Victor was deadly brilliant—one of the few men she truly respected.
"I have to say, you're even more stunning than I remember," Victor said, his eyes sweeping over her. "I thought you were all work and no fun. Don't tell me you've been secretly pining for my cute face." He smirked.
Elena rolled her eyes, lips curving into a playful smirk of her own. "Unlike you, I think you've actually gotten uglier," she teased.
Victor laughed, shaking his head. "That's my Elena—the only woman who can insult me and get away with it."
"Well, I'm just speaking the truth," she shrugged. "And truth shouldn't come with consequences, should it?"
He leaned in, intrigued. "Alright, let's cut to the chase. You're not the type to randomly show up at a club, and you've never been interested in my charms. Honestly, I don't think you're the type to fall for any man."
Elena's smile faltered for just a second before she masked it with an amused chuckle. "Then you don't really know me, Victor," she said, swirling the wine in her glass. "Because I did fall for someone. And not just anyone—a dangerous man."
Victor raised an eyebrow. "Damn. He must be better than me at the game, then."
Elena let out a bitter laugh. "Not quite. He was a scam—a con artist pretending to be a philanthropist. And I was his guinea pig."
Victor's sneer faded, his eyes turning cold. "I can't believe someone actually got past your defenses."
"Neither can I," she admitted, the flicker of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it appeared. She straightened up, locking eyes with him. "Victor, I want you to invest in my father's company. I need you to buy five hundred million dollars' worth of stock."
Victor choked on his drink, then burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right?"
Elena's expression was calm. "No, I'm not."
His smile vanished instantly as he set his glass down on the table. "You want what?" he asked, staring at her in shock.