4. Now You Need Me?

MARISSA

“She is no Marissa, Tristan! She cannot be!” Tina rushed forward, trying to clutch Tristan, but he shoved her hand away, his eyes stuck on me.

“You are Marissa, are you? Please tell me that you are.” Tristan rushed toward me and held my hand desperately.

I wriggled my hand out of his grip almost immediately.

“Mind your manners, sir. Mr Smith, was I brought here to be harassed? This is so unbelievable.” I pretended my distress was getting worse.

“You…” Donovan took it up again, wagging his finger at Tristan, who could not take his eyes off me.

“It seems you do not understand the severity of the situation! This woman here is the nominee for tonight’s Avery Couture Award and the woman I said I would be recommending to your fashion house to boost your company to higher heights! Now you have lost your chance, you fool!” Donovan yelled.

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. Is that so?

Mr Smith had travelled all the way to Monterio and waited days for an appointment with me just to introduce me to my dear ex husband as a potential client.

How ironic. Things were getting more interesting.

“Wha…what? She is a nominee? How come no one has ever heard of her!” Tina shrieked, now sweating as her makeup began to run.

“Well, because she is the legendary Queen behind the collections that have been trending for the past seven years!” Mr Smith revealed as whispers filled the hall again.

“That is…that is not possible. She…”

Tina paused. Then her mind went back to the only Queen she knew.

“Marissa?” She exhaled, her whole body going cold.

“Marissa Walters?! You are bloody Marissa Walters?!” Tina asked.

“Mind your speech, Miss Tina!” Donovan warned again, his tone final.

“It is no use, Mr Smith,” I finally spoke, my voice intentionally low and serene like an angel. “Even if they gave me all the money on earth, I would never collaborate with Vance Fashion House. I will take my leave now. I have had enough of tonight.” I feigned a tight smile, turned, and was about to walk away when a hand wrapped around my wrist and dragged me out of the hall.

“Tristan! Tristan! Where are you going with her! Tristan!” Tina’s voice echoed behind us while Tristan pulled me forward.

“Let me go, Tristan! Let me go!” I yelled, but he did not stop until we reached the rooftop.

He finally let go, and I tried to catch my breath.

“Have you gone crazy? What are you doing?” I snapped angrily.

I was truly furious that he had put his disgusting hands on me even for a second.

“Why are you denying me, Marissa? And what happened to you? What is this? You coming here and…”

“Do you think you are good enough to kill my shine?” I asked, my tone cold and tight.

“What?” He blinked.

“Ten years ago, the Marissa you knew died, Tristan. So let me warn you. I will make this short and quick. I am no longer on your level. Do not ever imagine that I would acknowledge a riff raff like you again. And stay out of my sight if you do not have a death wish, because I could do far worse things to you than you can ever imagine, Tristan Vance.”

I turned to leave, but he tried to grab me. I dodged easily, turned back, and slapped him.

That slap carried the pain of all the years I had suffered. It was the combined force of my strength and emotions.

“What part of my warning did you not understand?” I asked coldly.

“Marissa…” His voice broke shakily. He took a shaky step toward me, his composure slipping like sand through fingers.

I raised a sarcastic brow. “You disgust me,” I said with a sardonic smile.

And just when I thought he had given up, he dropped to his knees.

“Please, Marissa, forgive me.”

“For…forgive?” I repeated, disbelief washed over me. “I cannot believe the audacity of this bastard!”

“I was blind and misled. I did not know that…”

“I do not care about your explanation, Tristan. I get goosebumps of disgust at the mere sight of you. Stop talking. Do not show your face to me. Disappear if you can, or just die.”

My voice trembled with frustration, but I refused to break. Not in front of this lowlife I had already crushed.

He stood up and brushed his hand through his hair. “What the hell did I even do wrong? Huh? You were fat and ugly. How could I possibly show you to the world? I owned a growing fashion house and I needed someone fitting to be by my side and…”

“I wasn’t the perfect one,” I finished for him.

The fact that you never acknowledged me isn’t even my biggest regret, Tristan.

It was the fact that you killed my little one.

I wanted to say it out loud, but I couldn’t. If I spoke about the child I lost, I’d break into tears. And I had promised myself that Tristan would never see even a drop of my tears.

“And now you want me because I am perfect,” I scoffed.

“That’s not—”

“I don’t care about your opinions.” I smirked. “This is so tiring. A bunch of losers flocking around me and ruining my mood. So annoying.” I rolled my eyes.

“Marissa, please. At least work with Vance Fashion House. We are launching a new collection and we’ve promised investors who have spent billions that the legendary Queen would be the director of the project,” Tristan pleaded again.

And then it hit me.

This bastard still hadn’t learned anything. He was still hellbent on using me.

“Was I mincing words when I said I would never work with you?” I asked, my tone strained and irritated.

“Any amount… anything you want from me, Marissa, I would do. But I beg you, don’t turn your back on us.”

When I bled and cried, you turned your back on me. You relished signing those divorce papers while I begged for my life.

I scoffed again and shook my head. “Why don’t you try to steal my identity as Queen and give it to your dear girlfriend the way you did ten years ago? Hm?”

After that day, I realized Tristan never introduced Queen to the world again. And that was because I had disappeared without a trace.

If he introduced Queen, he’d have to show new designs. And if I was nowhere to be found, it would be a hassle. So he only launched the collection. Silver Silk skyrocketed Vance Fashion House, but when they kept reusing the same model, Vance Fashion started dying and the stocks began to fall because nothing trended anymore.

“I searched for you everywhere, Marissa. I did. I paid top private investigators. I realized too late that I needed you badly in my life. And now that you’re here, I can’t let you go,” he pleaded.

The desperation in his eyes gave me more pleasure than anything I had felt in years.

I could leave now, abandon Tristan, and let his whole life crumble.

Or there was a better option.

Stay…

Torment his life…

Be the queen of the game they started ten years ago.

Dominate, inflict agony, and crush the both of them.

Does working with my ex husband who killed my child sound logical?

No. It doesn’t.

But does staying around and messing with him every second of his miserable life sound logical?

Absolutely.

Will I do it?