Five. INVITATION LETTER

Videl...

A week had already passed.

Life settled into a rhythm that felt familiar in a way I hadn’t expected, like slipping back into a skin I once wore so often it never really left me. I woke early, showered, had breakfast, drove to Greenland Vanguard Academy, trained until my muscles screamed, ate lunch there, then returned home by evening. Dinner with my family. A little conversation. Then bed.

It was simple and normal, or as close to that as my life ever got.

That day was no different.

By the time I stepped into the training hall, my body was already warm, my mind sharp. I wrapped my hands slowly, the pull of the tape grounding me, steadying me. When I stepped forward, everything else fell away.

The burn in my arms was familiar. Welcome.

I pivoted, ducked, and drove my fist forward again. The padded target snapped back with a sharp sound that echoed faintly through the space. My breathing stayed even, controlled, each inhale measured, each exhale deliberate. Sweat slid down my spine, soaked into my top, but I didn’t slow.

I moved again. And again.

This was the only place where the noise in my head ever truly stopped. No past. No names. No memories reaching for me. Just motion. Muscle. Breath.

My phone buzzed.

Once.

I ignored it and struck again, harder this time, letting the force travel cleanly through my shoulders and down my arm.

The phone buzzed again.

I hesitated, just for a second, then stepped back. I grabbed my towel, wiped my face, and picked up my phone. Alexa’s name glowed on the screen.

“What’s up, sis?”

“Videl,” she said, and something in her voice made my shoulders tense. “Have you seen the news?”

“What news?”

There was a brief pause. “Check your phone.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the screen for a moment, then opened my browser. Social media loaded before the news apps did. It was everywhere. Every platform. Every headline screaming the same thing in different fonts.

TECH TYCOON ERIC WALKER STUNS PUBLIC WITH LAVISH PROPOSAL TO ALLEN HEIRESS, BIANCA ALLEN

I blinked once, then clicked.

The video played automatically.

At first, it was just noise. Laughter. Applause. Someone shrieking in excitement. The camera panned to a sleek car parked beneath decorative lights. A custom Bugatti. Even without the caption, I knew how expensive it was.

The reporter’s voice cut in over the footage.

“…earlier today, Eric Walker surprised his fiancée, Bianca Allen, with a custom Bugatti valued at over four million dollars during her birthday celebration…”

Then Eric stepped into frame.

Eric.

His hair was styled the way cameras liked. His suit fit perfectly. He smiled easily, comfortably. A smile I had never received, no matter how much I tried.

“…but the surprise did not end there…”

He handed Bianca the keys. She screamed, clapped, threw her arms around him. Cameras flashed. People cheered.

Then he stepped back.

I knew what was coming before it happened.

He went down on one knee.

The crowd erupted.

He opened a small box. The diamond caught the light even through the screen, sharp and blinding.

“A ring estimated to be worth over one million dollars,” the reporter said.

Bianca covered her mouth, tears spilling freely. Eric looked up at her, his expression soft, open, reverent.

I stared.

I had never seen that look on his face. Not once. Not when he looked at me.

My fingers tightened around the phone as she nodded frantically, as he stood, slid the ring onto her finger, and pulled her into a kiss while applause thundered around them.

The video replayed from another angle. Then another.

I watched it to the end.

Then I lowered the phone.

For a moment, I just stood there, sweat cooling on my skin, my heartbeat strangely calm.

Then I laughed.

It slipped out low and quiet, surprising even me. I shook my head slowly.

He was using my money to spoil another woman.

“Heh,” I murmured. “Not anymore.”

I opened my contacts and called Jeff.

He answered immediately. “General.”

“Freeze everything,” I said. “All Walker-related outgoing funds. All approvals. All liquidity movements. Freeze them. Now.”

There was a brief pause. “Understood.”

The call ended.

I went back to the mat and finished my training.

By the time I left the academy, my body ached in that deep, satisfying way that meant I had pushed myself properly. I showered, changed, grabbed my keys, and drove out.

Traffic slowed not far from the main road.

An accident.

A sedan lay twisted against the railing, its front end crushed. People stood around it, murmuring, watching.

I stopped and stepped out.

“Why are you just standing there?” I demanded.

Someone looked at me, startled. “We’ve called an ambulance.”

“And until it gets here?” I said, already moving. “You do nothing?”

I forced the door open. The man inside was unconscious, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. I pulled him free carefully and pressed my jacket against the wound, applying steady pressure until the ambulance arrived.

The paramedics took over quickly. Sirens faded into the distance.

I returned to my car, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.

Dinner was quieter than usual. Too quiet. Everyone kept watching me, asking if the food was okay, if I was tired, if I needed anything.

I set my fork down.

“Alright,” I said. “You all need to stop.”

They did.

“I know you saw the news,” I continued calmly. “And I know you’re worried. But don’t treat me like I’m about to fall apart.”

“I’m fine,” I added. “Perfectly fine.”

Leonard sighed. “Videl, don’t think too much about it.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said. “The guy’s a scum. You deserve better.”

“I just said I’m fine,” I replied. “Can we please drop it and eat?”

They did.

.....

After my shower, I stretched out on my bed for a moment, scrolling through my phone while my hair was still damp.

Then my phone vibrated.

A secure channel notification.

High-level clearance.

Sender: Walker Group | Executive Office

I opened it.

To: General V

On behalf of Mr. Eric Walker,

Chief Executive Officer of Walker Group,

it would be a profound honor to welcome you to the wedding ceremony of

Eric Walker

&

Bianca Allen

Date: Saturday, October 18

Time: 4:00 PM

Venue: Private Estate, South Town

Your presence would be deeply esteemed.

I stared at it.

Then I laughed.

I didn’t know why. Maybe because everything Eric did suddenly felt ridiculous. Almost funny.

He was inviting me to his wedding?

Fine.

I tapped Accept.

A slow smirk curved my lips.

You made the biggest mistake inviting me to your wedding, Eric Walker.

I wonder what your reaction will be when you realize the General V you admire so deeply… is your ex-wife.