MasukElara's POV
“What are you thinking about, Mum?” Noah’s small voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Nothing much, dear,” I said softly, smiling at him. “I was just remembering the day I gave birth to my lovely triplets. I love you, my children.” “Mum,” Emily said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “we know you’re going back to California, so we made some rules for you.” “Rules?” I raised a brow, laughing lightly as she handed me a folded piece of paper. “Yes,” Claire chimed in proudly. “These are the three golden rules — one from each of us. And don’t break any of them!” I smiled as I unfolded the paper. Their tiny handwriting made my heart swell. “The first rule,” I began, “says that I shouldn’t look at any other babies when I go to California.” They all giggled. “The second rule says… never give up on my job and keep working hard, as always.” Then I paused. My breath caught as I read the last line. “Why did you stop, Mum?” Noah urged. I swallowed hard and forced the words out. “The third rule says… do not fall in love with that man again — our father.” My voice trembled. The silence that followed was heavy. I looked at their innocent faces, my heart tightening. They were too young to understand the full story, yet they knew enough. I had told them about their father — not to plant hatred, but to keep confusion or pain from finding them later. “I understand,” I said quietly. “But Noah, Emily, Claire — Mummy told you this so you wouldn’t hear it from someone else. You can’t let hate fill your hearts. It’s not good for children to carry that kind of feeling, okay?” Claire nodded, her voice soft. “We understand, Mum.” “Me too,” Noah and Emily echoed together. A small smile touched my lips. I reached out and ruffled their hair gently. “Good. That’s my strong little team.” Just then, a servant appeared by the door. “Madam, Mr. Sullivan is asking for you.” Mr. Sullivan — the man who had saved my life five years ago. The chairman of Spectra Minds Group. My mentor… and the only man who had treated me like a daughter since the tragedy. I walked to the balcony where he sat in his wheelchair, the morning light spilling across his white hair. Despite being sixty-five, his eyes still held the sharpness time couldn’t dim. “Please, sit down,” he said warmly. “Are your things packed? You’re leaving for California this afternoon, right?” “Yes,” I replied. “Everything’s ready.” He nodded and picked up his iPad, handing it to me. “I want to show you something.” The image on the screen froze me. “Do you recognize this?” he asked. I blinked, my lips parting. “This… this is—” “Yes,” he said, his gaze steady. “The upcoming World Fashion Show in California. Major companies from all over the world have been invited, including ours. I want you to represent Spectra Minds Group as our ambassador.” My heart skipped a beat. He leaned closer, his voice calm but firm. “You’ve spent five years chasing revenge, Elara. Consider this my gift to you — a chance to get justice for Finn. You can do whatever you need to… just don’t mess this up.” His words sank deep. This wasn’t just an opportunity — it was fate giving me one final push. “What about the kids?” I asked softly. “People might recognize them… especially Noah. He’s a mirror image of Ian. I don’t want Ian to find out about them.” “Don’t worry,” Mr. Sullivan said reassuringly. “They’re my family now — my grandchildren. I took you in as my daughter, and you’ll always be mine.” I couldn’t help the tears that pricked my eyes. By two o’clock that afternoon, it was time to leave. The triplets came to see me off at the airport, their little faces full of reluctance. “Mummy, think of us often,” Emily said, gripping my hand tightly. “And don’t forget about us,” Noah added. I smiled through the ache in my chest and kissed each of their foreheads. “I’ll never forget you, my loves. Be good and listen to Grandpa Sullivan.” After giving the bodyguards instructions, I waved goodbye and boarded the plane. As the aircraft lifted, I pressed my forehead to the window, watching the land shrink beneath me. Ian… after five long years, I’m finally back. Let’s see what kind of surprise you’ll have when you see me again. ******* IN CALIFORNIA Years had crawled by — years painted with darkness, pain, and silent strength. But I survived. I rebuilt myself piece by piece, rising from the ashes of betrayal. Now I was back with a mission — to conquer my past and push Spectra Minds Group to global dominance in the fashion world. As I sat in the car, a glass of red wine in hand, I gazed out at the glowing skyline of California. “Five years,” I murmured to myself. “Just five years, and look how everything’s changed…” ******* THE FASHION EVENT The venue buzzed with energy. Designers, reporters, and celebrities filled the grand hall. Tonight’s show wasn’t just a launch — it was the event of the season. Camila Vale — Ian’s secretary — strutted through the crowd, her lips painted crimson, her heels clicking like a ticking clock. She had been with Ian for five years. Or should I say… far longer than I ever expected. Everyone whispered about her — not as his secretary, but as his girlfriend. “There are so many domestic and international media outlets here tonight,” Camila said sweetly as she guided Ian around. “The publicity will be huge. I think sales for the new season are already secured. After all, we’re a luxury brand, and our target audience is—” Ian barely nodded, his expression unreadable. Before she could finish, her assistant, Laura, rushed over. “Ms. Camila, Mr. Vance, it’s almost time to let the guests in.” Camila glanced at her wristwatch. “Alright. Go inform them.” As Laura hurried off, Camila turned back to Ian — but his phone rang sharply. His brows furrowed. “I need to take this,” he said curtly, already walking away. “But the event—” He didn’t even look back. Laura soon returned, a playful grin on her face. “Ms. Camila, you’re amazing. How did you manage to get Mr. Vance so easily? You’re like a real girlfriend!” Camila smirked, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her dress. “What are you still doing here?” she snapped. “Get back to work before I fire you instantly.” Laura flinched and scurried off. Camila straightened her dress, forcing a smile. She might have everyone fooled — but deep down, she knew something had changed. Because tonight… Elara was back.ELARA’S POV“I believe it’s not a crime to be a substitute if someone refuses a dare.”Camilla’s voice slid across the table before her perfume did—thick, expensive, suffocating. She moved toward us with deliberate grace, each click of her heels striking the marble like a countdown. The chandelier light clung to her black dress, the belt cinched perfectly at her waist, her red lipstick sharp enough to cut glass. I hated that I noticed how stunning she looked. I hated even more that she knew it.She stopped beside Ian and lowered herself into the empty chair as if she had always belonged there.“Oh my God… you’re alive,” she breathed, pressing a hand dramatically against her chest as she looked at me. “You have no idea what the news of your death did to me. I mourned you for months.”Nothing irritates me more than a liar wearing red lipstick and calling it grief.“Death?” Quinn’s voice cut in, confused. “Wait… you two know each other?”Camilla’s eyes locked with mine. There it was—the
Elara's POV Ivy’s heels clicked softly as she approached my desk, stopping a respectful distance away. She carried a sleek black tablet against her chest, posture straight, expression professional.“Everything is prepared, Miss Rhodes,” she said gently. “Just as you instructed.” My fingers continued moving across the keyboard — unhurried, deliberate — the soft rhythm echoing through the room. I didn’t answer immediately. Silence has power.And I know exactly how to use it.I finished typing the last line before lifting my gaze to her.Calm.Measured.Unreadable. “Is it precise?” I asked. “Not close… not approximate… exact.” Ivy nodded once.“Yes, ma’am. Every detail aligns with your specifications. I’ll forward the final address as soon as the other party confirms.”A faint pause.Her eyes flickered with subtle curiosity. But she knew better than to ask. “Good,” I replied, my tone soft — almost soothing. “Proceed discreetly.”“Yes, Miss Rhodes.”She turned to leave.Almost reached t
Camila’s POV The boardroom was so quiet I could practically hear the soft hum of the AC and the faint ticking of the wall clock. The city skyline stretched across the glass windows behind us, but no one dared admire it. Not when our sales report glowed on the massive presentation screen like a wound that refused to heal. Charts and sales graphs frozen mid-slide – silent proof of everything we had lost these past days. I crossed one leg over the other, fingers tapping rhythmically against the glass table. Everyone avoided my gaze. Good. They should. “Walk me through the numbers again,” I said flatly. Laura stood at the head of the room, her posture stiff, the remote trembling slightly between her fingers like a soldier about to deliver a death sentence. “Our fourth-quarter sales dropped significantly,” she said, clearing her throat. “The market took a heavy hit – especially in our luxury line.A thirty-two percent decline after the scandal footage circulated online.” A rippl
Ian’s POV Victoria’s voice crackled faintly through the speaker, bright yet distant — like a star too far from earth to warm anything.“I’ve been trying to reach Mom all day, but the network’s terrible on set,” she explained hurriedly. “Please tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t make it tonight. I love her — truly. I promise I’ll visit soon.”I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers to my temple.“Victoria, you’ve said that for three years now,” I replied, my tone firmer than I intended. “Every family gathering becomes my responsibility alone. How do you expect me to face her again?”She sighed — that elegant, rehearsed sigh she reserved for interviews and press calls.“Ian… acting isn’t a hobby anymore. The new season premieres soon, and tonight’s casting rehearsal is crucial. You, of all people, should understand commitment.”Commitment. An interesting word — especially coming from someone so skilled at escaping it.“Fine,” I said curtly. “I’ll tell h
Noah’s POV — Sydney, 7:45 PM "God-dammit!". The word slipped out before I could stop it as my character collapsed on the screen again. Jace’s victory animation flashed across my monitor, taunting me. I slammed both palms on my desk — not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to feel something. That was my fifth loss in a row. He was never going to let me hear the end of it tomorrow at school. I clenched my jaw, leaning closer to the screen, determined to win the next round — when my bedroom door creaked open behind me. “Not now, Nanny Mona,” I muttered, fingers tight on the gamepad. “I already took my vitamins. I told you fine.” A pause. Then a different voice. “Actually…it’s not Nanny Mona,” Emily said softly. “It’s Claire and me.” I sighed through my nose. Of course. They only came in when they wanted something. Without turning around, I kept my eyes glued to the screen. “What do you both want? You know the rules — you don’t come into my room unless it’s important.”
Camila’s POV Morticia stood poised in front of the mirror touching her makeup like she owned the fucking world. Her slender fingers meticulously tracing the contours of her face as she applied a final layer of concealer. That alone made my blood boil. A caustic sting spread as acid ate into my skin. I shoved the restroom door open with such force it slammed against the wall, rattling the mirrors. The sharp echo bounced off the tiled walls, slicing through the air like a warning. Rage burned so violently inside me I was almost certain the room would go up in flames if I stayed another second. Two women stood by the sinks, frozen in place. “Get out.” My voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that carried death underneath it. They didn’t hesitate. Not a single second. They grabbed their bags and rushed out, heels slipping against the floor, the door shutting behind them with hurried panic. Morticia







