2. I Am Your Nemesis

MARISSA

Ten years later

“Good evening everyone, we are all gathered here for the Avery Contour Award that is being given out to the best designer in Greenville every ten years.” The lady who stood at the podium looked smart and confident, a bright smile on her face as the eyes of different important personalities were glued on her.

The huge hall on the last floor of Honeyville Hotel held only significant faces. Top designers and CEOs of conglomerates that were born from successful fashion houses.

As I walked in, the hall didn’t hold many people, but the few people in here were the ones who called the shots in Greenville. These were the people who gathered once every ten years to watch someone be crowned the Queen of Fashion.

Greenville was a city that boasted the most popular and famous fashion houses in the world. Top designers were born and raised here. If you wanted to be well known in the fashion industry, Greenville was the best place to be. And if you wanted to be the biggest fashion icon, you aimed to win the Avery Contour Award. After that, multi billion dollar fashion houses would beg for you to work for them, and you would become a full blown celebrity.

Greenville, the city that almost broke me ten years ago, was now the city I had returned to.

Not as a broke Marissa. But as a force.

“Who is that woman? She doesn’t look familiar,” one person whispered as I catwalked confidently, enjoying the attention.

Something I wouldn’t have dared to do ten years ago.

“She looks so beautiful! Is she some sort of supermodel? I would kill for a body like hers! Oh my gosh!” another girl squealed.

“Her dress looks so perfect. I haven’t seen such a design in the market. It’s mind blowing,” someone else whispered.

It seemed like the whole event had come to a halt with my entrance.

The corner of my lips tugged into a smile.

For the last ten years, all I had experienced was growth. Unimaginable growth that made me realize I was too good for Tristan.

“Miss Walter?” a voice called out as others continued their conversations.

I turned around to find Donovan Smith staring at me like he had just found the most precious jewel.

“Oh my! You made it! I can’t believe you accepted my invitation. This is so surreal.”

The fifty year old man walked quickly toward me as I smiled and moved close to hug him.

“Of course I would come. You asked sincerely at the dinner the other time,” I replied as we disentangled.

“You look gorgeous as usual, Miss Walter. Tonight will be incredible!” he said happily.

“Oh… I can’t wait. Tonight is also the most important night of my life,” I winked.

“Exactly. You were the missing piece to complete tonight. I had to go through all that back in Monterio just to get you to come here. You are such a difficult woman, Miss Walter,” Donovan teased as I smiled.

The stares returned.

“Who is that talking to Donovan? She seems important,” someone said.

“Yeah. Mr Smith doesn’t associate with just anyone in public. This is a first. Now I’m curious about who she is,” another replied.

Donovan Smith was the former senior director of a huge fashion house here in Greenville. Although now retired, his opinions were highly valued and he was still seen as an icon. During his prime, he had won the Avery Contour Award three consecutive times.

And yes, he had always been my role model as a teen.

I never thought a day would come when Donovan Smith would worship the ground I walked on.

After that night with Tristan and Tina, they had left me there to die. They forced my signature on both papers and left me bleeding. I had forced myself up and dragged myself into the streets where the storm hit me.

My overweight didn’t let me go far on the estate street before I collapsed. I thought I would die. But then I woke up on a hospital bed.

“Hello Miss, how are you feeling now? Do you mind giving me a contact for your husband?” the nurse asked as I regained consciousness.

My whole body felt like it had been pounded repeatedly.

“My baby!” I held my stomach and sat up. “Is my baby okay, nurse?” I clutched her hand.

The look on the young lady’s face told me everything I needed at that moment.

Fresh tears streamed down. “No… no… no…” I fell back on the pillow. How could I lose everything in one night? Why?

“Ma’am, please don’t overwork yourself. You are still healing and—”

“No…” I couldn’t stop screaming and crying. The weight of betrayal crushed me like a million pieces.

I felt torn, disgraced, alone, cold.

“Miss Walters?” Donovan’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I forced a smile, afraid that if I didn’t, the tears I hid so well would spill. I could never get over losing my child. The pain was carved into my soul. And it was that same pain that fueled me for years. It would gave me the strength I needed to crush Tristan and Tina.

“Yes,” I replied softly.

“Is everything okay? Are you uncomfortable about anything?” he asked, a worried look in his eyes.

Even with my shades on, he had noticed the moment my mind drifted.

“Oh no. I’m very well, thank you,” I answered quickly.

“Alright then. I’ll go get a drink for you. Please hold on a minute,” he said, ever the gentleman.

I nodded, watching him walk away.

The second he disappeared into the crowd, another presence approached.

“And who the hell are you?”

That voice.

I would recognize it even in my dreams. Slowly, deliberately, I turned. As if time itself waited for me to face her.

Tina.

She hadn’t aged a day. Still looking like the same cruel, bitter witch who once destroyed my life.

“Do you have an invitation to this event?” she demanded, disgust twisting her features.

I slowly removed my shades, letting our eyes meet.

No recognition. Not even a flicker.

I almost laughed. After everything she did to me, she didn’t even know who I was.

She was still the same pompous, rude woman I remembered.

“I don’t need an invitation to come here,” I replied flatly.

Of course she didn’t recognize me. I had changed too much. I had gone from a desperate 150kg woman to a confident forty something kg beauty with the type of body every supermodel in Greenville envied.

“Oh, you don’t?” She scoffed loudly. “Because you’re sleeping with Mr Donovan? Is that what gives you the audacity to walk in here like some tramp?”

Ah. So that was it. She thought I was some cheap model who got in because Donovan liked me?

“How predictable,” I murmured with a mocking smirk.

“What did you say?” Tina stepped forward, as if she wanted to fight.

“You’re still so bitter. So insecure. It’s honestly pathetic,” I said calmly.

“Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?!” she snapped.

People nearby began to turn, sensing drama.

“Stop barking like a dog, Tina. You’re embarrassing yourself,” I said intentionally, my tone silky smooth.

Her eyes widened. “How the hell do you know my name, you nameless bitch?!”

“Mind the way you speak to me,” I warned quietly. “I could crush you in two seconds. I’ve changed so much over the years.”

Her confusion turned into frustration. “Who the hell are you?! How do you know my name?!”

I smiled—slow, regal, purposeful. Then I took two calculated steps closer, towering above her with a quiet confidence she could never match.

“I AM YOUR NEMESIS.”