Chapter 1: The Return of Elena Romano

The city never slept, but tonight, Elena Romano was awake for a different reason.

From the penthouse balcony of the Grand Royale Hotel, she stood with a glass of champagne, staring at the glittering skyline of New York—the city that had witnessed her family’s downfall.

The city that had once been her home… and her grave.

Six years ago, she had been buried under the weight of betrayal.

She had lost everything. Her family. Her name. Her love.

And now, she was back.

Not as Elena Romano. That girl was dead.

Now, she was Raven Black—a billionaire, a queen in her own right, and a woman with only one purpose.

Revenge.

And the man she had come for was standing just across the room.

Him.

Killian Graves.

Her first love. Her greatest mistake. The man who had once held her heart and then shattered it into a million pieces.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black Armani suit, he was the center of attention, towering over everyone in the ballroom. His presence demanded respect, his sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes, and perfectly styled hair making him the kind of man no one dared to cross.

He looked every bit the powerful billionaire and kingmaker he had become.

And he hadn’t changed.

He was still cold, still untouchable, still exuding that lethal charm that had once made her fall.

Only this time, she wasn’t here to fall.

She was here to destroy him.

She lifted the champagne flute to her lips, but before she could take a sip—

He looked at her.

From across the crowded ballroom, their eyes met.

And just like that, time stood still.

Elena felt her stomach tighten, her pulse spike.

He knows.

A slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips. Dark. Amused. Dangerous.

It was the same smirk he used to give her before he claimed her.

A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to smirk back, cold and calculated.

He may have ruined her before.

But this time?

She was here to ruin him.

***

Six Years Ago…

"Say it again," he growled, his hands gripping her waist, pinning her against the cold marble wall of his penthouse.

"Killian, you’re crazy—"

"Say it."

His lips hovered inches from hers, teasing, taunting. His breath was warm, his grip possessive.

Elena swallowed, her heartbeat racing.

"I love you," she whispered.

His eyes darkened before he crashed his lips against hers—hungry, deep, claiming.

She never stood a chance.

***

Present Day…

“Elena…” His voice slid over her skin like a slow caress.

She snapped back to reality to find Killian standing right in front of her.

The crowd had parted for him like the sea, and now he was here. Towering. Dominating. A king reclaiming his territory.

His presence was just as overwhelming as she remembered, sending a thrill of fury and something far more dangerous through her veins.

“I go by Raven now,” she said, swirling her champagne. “Elena Romano is dead.”

Killian smirked, tilting his head. “Is she?” His dark eyes dragged over her, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of her. “Because I’d know her anywhere.”

Her grip on the glass tightened.

“Then you should have found her,” she shot back, voice cold. “Oh, wait—you were too busy watching my family burn.”

His smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened.

“You think I let that happen?” His voice was dangerously soft.

She refused to let his words affect her.

This was the man who had let her family be destroyed.

This was the man who had taken everything from her.

So why did her body still remember the way he felt?

“You’re not worth my time, Killian.” She turned to walk away.

But he grabbed her wrist.

It was too fast, too sure—the way his fingers wrapped around her like he still owned her.

The crowd was still watching, but Killian didn’t care.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” he murmured, stepping closer. “But I do believe in unfinished business.”

Elena tilted her chin up, refusing to show weakness. “I don’t have business with you.”

He chuckled. Low, deep, amused. “Then why are you here?”

She didn’t answer.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing close to his ear as she whispered—

“Maybe I came back to destroy you.”

Then she ripped her wrist free and walked away.

But even as she left, she could feel his gaze burning into her.

Across the Room…

Victor DeLuca watched the entire exchange, a smirk curling on his lips.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Victor was no fool. He had spent years trying to dismantle Killian’s empire, but the bastard was too smart, too ruthless.

But this?

This was an opportunity.

Elena Romano wasn’t just a ghost from Killian’s past.

She was the only woman who had ever made him bleed.

And now?

Now, she was back in Killian’s world—his biggest weakness, his greatest threat.

Victor chuckled, sipping his whiskey.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Later That Night…

Elena stepped into her penthouse, shutting the door behind her.

The moment she was alone, she exhaled, her body still buzzing from the encounter.

She had expected to feel satisfaction seeing Killian again.

But instead, all she felt was… heat. Tension. A dangerous pull she hated.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

She frowned before answering. “Who is this?”

A deep, familiar voice sent shivers down her spine.

“You can change your name, but you’ll never escape me, Elena.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

Killian.

“I suggest you stop playing games,” he continued, his voice smooth, dark. Deadly.

She gritted her teeth. “Or what?”

His chuckle was low, lethal. “Or you’ll remember exactly who you belong to.”

A rush of anger surged through her. “I belong to no one.”

Another chuckle. Then—

“We’ll see.”

The line went dead.

Elena stared at her phone, her pulse racing.

Damn him.

Damn him to hell.

But as much as she wanted to pretend otherwise…

Hell was exactly where she was going.

And Killian Graves would be right there waiting for her.

To Be Continued…