POV: Tiffany Carter
Tiffany Carter had been called many things—flawless, formidable, fated for power—but never fragile.
Until now.
She slammed the office door shut behind her, hands still trembling from the phone call that refused to stop ringing in her mind.
Zurich accounts. Fraud. Laundering.
It didn't make sense. She had buried those accounts. No paper trail. No ties.
At least... not anymore.
She yanked her designer blazer off, flung it across the armchair, and strode to her floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the Manhattan skyline. It used to make her feel powerful—untouchable.
Now? It mocked her.
"They're saying you cooked the launch metrics. That you embezzled funds from the Softlight merger."
The words from her assistant echoed like a curse.
The Softlight merger had been her triumph. The one thing Adrian had trusted her to lead. If that fell apart...
She turned, paced, then cursed.
"Elise," she muttered. "It has to be Elise."
But how?
She'd watched Elise crumble five years ago—after the engagement, after Liam.
After they ended her.
That woman had been pathetic. Quiet. Spiraling.
Not... this.
Not the woman who returned wearing silk like armor, speaking like she owned the boardroom.
Tiffany yanked open her desk drawer and pulled out a burner phone. She rarely used it—only when she needed unofficial help.
She dialed.
A gruff voice answered.
"She's back," Tiffany hissed. "And she's playing dirty. I want everything on her. Who she's seeing. Who she's working with. Who's protecting her."
Pause.
"She's with Adrian now?"
The news nearly knocked her breathless.
Of course she was.
Like a serpent, Elise had slithered back into his life. Playing innocent, vulnerable—fooling him like she fooled everyone before.
"Track her," Tiffany said. "Find the crack. I want her gone before this scandal sticks."
She ended the call.
Her chest heaved. Rage simmered under her skin.
This wasn't the plan. She was supposed to marry Adrian next year. Merge their power. Be the next Mrs. Blackwell in all but name.
Elise was past tense.
Until she wasn't.
And now?
Now the media was circling. Blackwell International's PR division had already reached out "on behalf of Mr. Blackwell" requesting clarity.
That was code for: You're becoming a liability.
Tiffany marched to her bar cart, poured a drink, and downed it.
POV: Elise Carter
Across town, Elise sat in the sunroom of her penthouse, casually flipping through a portfolio when her phone buzzed.
Albert had sent the link.
She smiled as she read the latest headline:
"Tiffany Carter Under Scrutiny for Alleged Offshore Embezzlement."
Oh, how far the mighty fall.
She leaned back into the velvet cushions, rereading it slowly, like a love letter.
Albert had done good. So had Dalca.
The whispers were louder now.
Banks were freezing accounts. Journalists were requesting statements. Softlight had pulled out of its strategic partnership with Tiffany's firm just hours ago.
Elise sipped her tea.
"I wonder how many of her 'friends' are calling her today."
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a message from Adrian.
Dinner tonight? Just us. No boardroom tension. I want to talk.
She hesitated.
He was the last piece.
The hardest one to destroy.
Because a small, unwelcome part of her still remembered the man he was before Tiffany twisted him into something cruel.
Still... she texted back.
7 PM. I'll wear red. Bring the wine.
Let him walk into her trap willingly.
Let him fall for her all over again.
Because when it was time to ruin him?
She wanted his heart in her hands.
POV: Tiffany Carter
That evening, Tiffany stared at the notification on her screen.
Adrian was dining with Elise.
Private location. Driver confirmed pickup. She wore red.
Her fist clenched.
It wasn't just business anymore.
Elise wasn't just back.
She was winning.
But Tiffany Carter hadn't survived boarding school wars, media fires, and her father's betrayal just to lose to a girl she once buried.
Elise wanted war?
She'd get it.
And Tiffany would make sure this time, there was no rebirth.
Only ruin.