Eloise
The pounding bass of the club's music felt like it was vibrating through my bones. I sat at our usual table. Ava was beside me. She had suggested I go to the club with her to unwind, and I bet you that was a bad idea for me but she insisted I go with her. As we waited for the bartender's attention, Ava kept up a steady stream of chatter, her voice a comforting background noise. Aswear her chats weren't helping the pain in my chest atall. "And then he had the nerve to say he didn't like my dress, stupid guy" she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Can you believe that?" I managed a genuine laugh at that. I was seriously not interested. "Seriously? Who doesn't like your dresses?" "Exactly!" she exclaimed, pulling her middle finger up in mock exasperation. "Men are idiots" I laughed a genuine laugh at that. The bartender finally noticed us, and Ava ordered our drinks. As we waited, I glanced around the club, my eyes drifting over the crowd. That's when i saw him. He was tall, strongly built, which made his expensive jacket look even more attractive. Every detail about him— his piercing grey eyes, tousled hair, the confident way he moved, i couldn’t look away. Ava, who usually remained unfazed by good-looking men, nudged me with a look of pure astonishment. “Ely, did you see that man?” she murmured. “Oh, I did,” I said, unable to mask the breathless tone in my voice. My eyes locked on his, his gaze intense. Then, as if drawn by an invisible string, he began making his way toward us. “Eloise,” Ava whispered, grabbing my arm. “He’s coming over here” But i couldn’t respond. Up close, he was even more striking, grey focused eyes, a hint of stubble, and a calm expression, his cologne waved through the air with each step he took, as if he was entirely comfortable with the effect he had on people. “Hello,” he said, his voice smooth, laced with confidence. “I’m Mike, nice to meet you” I swallowed, forcing myself to remember how to speak. “Elois-e…” “Eloise,” He repeated, letting my name roll off his tongue slowly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” I felt warmth creep up my neck, and not just from the alcohol. The way he looked at me made it easy to forget my recent heartache. “Eloise,” Ava’s voice broke through the haze. “I need to go, just got an urgent call from my mom. Will you come with me, or are you good here?” I tore my eyes away from Mike, glancing at her. My instincts told me to go, but the allure of staying here with him was too strong. “I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, trying to sound composed. “I can get a chauffeur.” Ava’s brows lifted slightly, a knowing look in her eyes, but she nodded. “Alright. Just… be careful, okay? I will call you when I get home” I nodded. The second she left, when I turned there was heat in his stare, something that made me feel dizzy, drawn to him in a way i couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the connection. “Your friend seems concerned about you,” Mike observed, a faint smile playing on his lips. “My bestfriend, she's always like that,” I replied, the words feeling loose and unfamiliar on my tongue, courtesy of the cocktails. “Well, I’m glad she left,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. “It means I get you all to myself.” I felt a thrill ripple through me. I didn’t even know this man, but the confidence in his tone, the way he held my gaze, was enough to keep me rooted. He leaned closer, his hand coming up to lightly touch my arm, a small, intimate gesture that sent a shiver down my spine. “Dance with me?” I nodded, not trusting my voice, and let him lead me to the dance floor. He kept his hand at the small of my back, fingers splayed possessively. We fell into a rhythm that felt natural, as if we've done this a hundred times. It wasn’t long before i found myself leaning into him, my fingers grazing the lapels of his jacket. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his hand trailing along my back. His eyes never leaving mine, as though he was savouring every reaction, every small gasp that escaped my lips. "It was a pleasure to dance with you Eloise,” he said, his voice a warm whisper against my ear. “It’s like i don’t want this moment to end.” “Me either,” I whispered back, hardly recognizing the boldness in my own voice. He pulled me closer, our bodies now fully pressed together, his hand drifting up to cup my jaw. I could feel the heat of his breath as he looked down at me, his lips inches from mine. Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. It was a gentle kiss, but as i melted against him, he deepened it, his other hand sliding around my waist, holding me. I pulled back slightly, breathless, my heart pounding. “You… you’re crazy” I managed to say, a small smile breaking through my flushed face. He smiled back, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Only if you want me to be.” I felt a laugh bubble up, light and free, and before i could say anything else, he kissed me again, and for the first time in so long, i felt alive. His touch was gentle but insistent, igniting something deep within me that had been dormant, forgotten. As we pulled apart, he looked at me with a smile that was both comforting and devastating. “Let me take you home,” he said softly, his voice a tender command. I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak. We left the club together, his arm securely around me as if protecting me from the world.I know some of you have been impatient, waiting, hoping, and silently rooting for Eloise from the very beginning. You saw her broken, you saw her fight, you saw her lose, and yet you stayed, turning each page, holding your breath, waiting for her to finally get her moment. This story wasn’t meant to be rushed. Eloise’s journey was never about instant happiness, but about clawing her way through betrayal, heartbreak, revenge, and resilience. Every tear, every scream, every whispered “I can’t anymore” was building toward this ending. To those who loved Eloise fiercely, thank you. To those who hated her at times but couldn’t stop reading — thank you. To those who sent me messages like “When will she finally win?!” I heard you, I felt your impatience, but I promise it made this ending sweeter. This isn’t just a love story. It’s survival. It’s revenge. It’s healing. It’s proof that broken doesn’t mean defeated. And now, Eloise finally has her victory. She has her freedom. She has her lov
Eloise I leaned back in my office chair, staring at the glowing computer screen but not truly seeing it. Numbers blurred into meaningless shapes, emails stacked in neat, demanding rows. The quiet tick of the clock on the wall was the only rhythm in the room, and still I couldn’t shake the restless thrum in my chest. It had been a month since everything, since the final confrontation, since Lucian had been cut clean out of my life, since the venom of betrayal stopped coursing through every breath I took. A month since Damon’s last failed attempt to claw his way into control. A month of rediscovering silence. A month of relearning who I was without constantly looking over my shoulder. But grief had a way of leaving footprints on your soul. Some mornings I woke up light, unshackled, free. Other mornings, I carried the old ghosts. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips against my temple. Just five minutes of peace, I told myself. Five minutes before diving back into quarterly repo
Eloise It had been days since Mike came to me with his apology, days of me tossing on my bed, clutching my pillow, wondering if forgiveness was too generous a word to give a man who had once gambled with my trust. The air in my house had grown stale from replaying the same memories: the sting of Damon’s words, the confusion that crawled into my heart, and Mike’s face when he admitted what happened years ago. I couldn’t carry it alone anymore. My pride was starting to feel heavier than my heart. So I picked up my phone and dialed the one person who never sugarcoated anything. “Ava,” I breathed when she answered. “You sound like a storm about to break,” she said, her tone already bracing for confession. “Can you come over? I…I need you.” She didn’t ask why. “Give me twenty minutes.” By the time she arrived, I had already made tea, though neither of us touched it once we sat at the kitchen table. Ava leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, her expression the mix of friend and
Eloise – First Person POV The steam from my shower still clung to my skin, wrapping me in its lingering warmth as I padded barefoot across the hardwood floor of my apartment. Droplets slipped down my collarbone and disappeared into the neckline of my silk robe. My hair, damp and heavy, clung to my shoulders. For weeks, my mornings had begun like this, quiet, steady, predictable. Peaceful, people would call it. They didn’t know how silence could sometimes be the loudest noise in the room. Peace had returned, yes. The atelier glimmered again, its glass walls spotless, its display cases brimming with new designs that bore only my name. My funds were back in my hands, and contracts that had once been ripped from me were signed anew under Eloise Laurent, my rebranded name. Every magazine headline called me a survivor, a fighter, the woman who rebuilt herself from the ashes. And yet, not one of those glittering titles filled the void Mike had carved into me. Every time I let my thoughts
Eloise The next day…. I sat on the second row, hands folded over the leather strap of my purse, listening to the shuffle of shoes, the murmured chatter, and the squeak of pens dragging against notepads. It had been trial after trial, one courtroom after another, and my body had grown used to this place, almost as if my ribs had sprouted their own wooden benches. I didn’t mind. No, not anymore. So far every soul that had left scars on me, physical, emotional, spiritual, had been made to choke down their share of the poison they brewed. Today would be no different. Today belonged to Jennifer. She stood at the front, just beyond the polished oak barrier that separated the public from the professionals. She was thinner than before, her once-gleaming blonde hair dulled and tied in a hasty knot. She had tried to wear confidence like a perfume, but it didn’t stick. Her navy suit hung on her as though it belonged to someone else, someone more solid. She kept her chin tilted, eyes darting
Eloise I never expected victory to feel like this. Not light. Not triumphant. It was heavy, like dragging a chest of gold through mud, valuable, priceless, but soaked in sweat and grit, with bruises carved into my palms. I was close to the parking lot when my phone buzzed, once, then again. My lawyer’s name flashed across the screen. “Eloise,” I murmured to myself, steadying my breath, “this is it.” I answered. “Yes?” “Don’t leave yet.” His voice carried a pulse of electricity. “Something came in encrypted files from one of Lucian’s accountants. He cracked. We’ve got everything.” My throat tightened. “Everything?” “Everything he thought he buried. Offshore accounts, dummy corporations, cash slush funds. He hid properties under aliases, even tried to move shares into shell holdings. It’s all here.” The world stilled around me. The hum of people walking by, the echo of doors opening, the shuffle of case files, all of it dimmed until only the sound of my own heartbeat remained.