LOGINESMERALDA'S POVI make the decision on a Tuesday.After my second therapy session.After another conversation with Damien that went nowhere.After staring at Julian's last voicemail for an hour without listening to it.I'm going to see him.One more time.Not for closure...Lila's right, closure is a myth.Not for revenge....though that's part of it.But because I need to look him in the eye and know:Am I over him?Or am I just pretending to be?************************I call Marcus first."I need you to set something up.""What kind of something?""A hotel suite. Hotel Carlyle. Private. Secure. I need it tomorrow night.""For?""Julian."Silence."Does Damien know about this?""Not yet. But he will.""Esmeralda—""Just set it up, Marcus. Please."He sighs. "Okay. What time?""8 PM. And Marcus?""Yeah?""I need it wired. Audio and video. Everything recorded."Another pause."You're going to seduce him. Get him on record.""Maybe. I don't know yet. I just—I need options.""Does this
LILA'S POVEsmeralda looks exhausted.We're at lunch...a quiet café in SoHo—and she's barely touched her food.Just pushing salad around her plate."You okay?" I ask."Define okay.""Fair point."She sets down her fork. "Therapy was hard. She asked me what I actually need from Julian to heal. And I don't know. I thought I knew. But now—""Now you're questioning everything.""Yes."I take a sip of coffee. "Can I be honest with you?""Always.""I don't think you need anything from Julian."She looks up. "What?""I don't think destroying him will fix anything. I think you're using revenge as a distraction from actual healing.""That's not—""It is. And you know it. That's why you're stalling. Why you haven't released the evidence yet. Why you keep going to therapy and asking the same questions."She's quiet."You think I'm wrong?" I ask."No. I think you're right. And I hate it.""Why do you hate it?""Because if revenge won't fix me, then I have to do the actual work. And the actual wor
ESMERALDA'S POVMorning comes too fast.I didn't sleep well.Kept replaying last night. Julian on his knees. Begging.The look on his face when I told him it was over.Part of me felt powerful.Part of me felt cruel.Both parts feel true.Damien's already up. Making coffee."How are you feeling?" he asks."Nervous. Ready. Terrified.""That's a lot of feelings.""It's a big day."Today we release everything.Today Julian's world ends.Today the revenge is complete.Marcus arrives at 9 AM.Spreads files across the dining table."Everything's ready. Legal team has reviewed it all. PR team knows what to say. We're coordinated with three major outlets—they'll all publish simultaneously at 2 PM.""What's the headline?" I ask.He shows me his laptop.VOSS INDUSTRIES CEO JULIAN VOSS CHARGED WITH FRAUD, TAX EVASION, SABOTAGEFederal Investigation Reveals $87 Million in Hidden Offshore AccountsThe subheadline reads:Evidence shows systematic fraud, including sabotage of rival Morrison Manufact
DAMIEN'S POV8:07 PM.She's with him now.In that hotel suite.Alone.I pour another drink.Third one in an hour.Marcus is calling. I don't answer.He knows where I am. Knows what I'm doing.Sitting at home. Drinking. Losing my mind.Because the woman I love is with her ex-husband.And I have to trust that she's not going back to him.Have to trust that this is strategy. Revenge. Nothing more.But trust is hard when you're picturing them together.*************************8:15 PM.My phone buzzes. Not her.Marcus again.I answer."What?""Just checking in. How are you holding up?""Fine.""Liar. You're drinking alone and spiraling. I can hear it in your voice.""What do you want me to say? That I'm thrilled my wife is in a hotel room with the man she used to be married to?""She's not going back to him.""You don't know that.""Yes, I do. Because I've seen the way she looks at you. The way she talks about you. She's in love with you, Damien. Not him.""Then why does she need to see
JULIAN'S POVI buy champagne.Dom Pérignon. The kind Esmeralda used to love.$400 I can't afford.But it doesn't matter.Tonight, I'm getting her back.I know the odds. Know she's probably just giving me closure.But there's a chance.However small.She wouldn't meet me in a hotel suite if there wasn't a chance.Would she?I get a haircut. Shave carefully. Put on the suit she always liked—the navy one.Check my reflection.I look thinner. Older. Tired.But presentable.Good enough.It has to be good enough.*************************My phone rings. Celeste.I don't answer.She's called six times today. Left three voicemails.All about the SEC investigation.About how they're coming after her too now.About how I "destroyed the family."I can't deal with her right now.Tonight is about Esmeralda.Only Esmeralda.********************I arrive at the Hotel Carlyle at 7:45.Fifteen minutes early.Too eager. I know.But I can't help it.The lobby is elegant. Expensive. Familiar.We stayed
ESMERALDA'S POVMarcus spreads the files across the conference table.Eight months of work.Hundreds of documents.All the evidence we need to destroy Julian Voss."This is everything," he says. "Offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. $87 million hidden from federal taxes. Wire transfers showing the sabotage payments to Morrison company insiders. Emails proving he knew about the fraud. Securities violations. Insider trading. All of it."I pick up one of the files.Read through it.It's damning. Completely damning."How did you get the emails?""We have someone on the inside. Someone Julian fired six months ago who was very motivated to help.""And it's all admissible?""Legal team says yes. We obtained it through proper channels. No illegal hacking. No stolen documents. Everything can be used."Damien's standing at the window. Silent."When do we release it?" I ask.Marcus looks at Damien."That's your call," Damien says without turning around.Mine.The decision is mine.I look at
ESMERALDA'S POVThe Metropolitan Museum looks like something from a dream.Or a nightmare. I can't decide which.Grand stone steps lead up to the entrance, lit with spotlights that turn the building into something otherworldly. A red carpet runs from the street to the doors, lined with photographer
Esmeralda's POVI stare at my reflection really look at myself for the first time in weeks and barely recognize the woman staring back.Gaunt. That's the word. My cheekbones jut out sharply, my collarbones like knife edges. The shadows under my eyes are so dark they look like bruises. My hair, even
ESMERALDA'S POVI freeze mid-step, my hand still on the exit door.That voice. Deep and unfamiliar, but somehow commanding enough to stop me in my tracks.I turn slowly.The man standing behind me is tall, easily over six feet with dark hair that's just long enough to look deliberately unkempt. Sha
ESMERALDA'S POVThe sculpture garden swallows the noise of the gala the moment I step through the doors.Out here, the city hums distantly muffled by stone walls and carefully manicured hedges. Soft golden lights illuminate marble sculptures at intervals, casting long shadows across the paths. The







