Chapter Nine

Natalie’s wedding is everything I could ever want for her. The flowers bloom in soft pastels, laughter spills through the air, and the music wraps around the room like a promise of forever. She looks radiant, glowing with the kind of happiness she once feared she’d never find. For a moment, pride swells in my chest, and I let myself smile for her.

She's getting married to Louis Dublin, a huge tech giant in New York. Theirs was the kind of romance you don't see coming. It just hits like a storm.

The moment I step past the grand doors of the reception hall, the atmosphere shifts.

I had Damien go ahead of me, knowing that if we both alighted the same car, the NEW YORK TIMES would get a good gossip topic for a week.

Heads turn, conversations freeze mid-sentence. Crystal glasses hover in the air, suspended in trembling hands.

And then the whispers begin.

“Is that… her?”

“She came back?”

“After everything?”

“How could she just show up after three years like nothing happened?”

Their eyes rake over me, some wide with disbelief, others sharp with judgment. I can almost hear the collective memory echoing between them, the scandal, the disgrace, the humiliation they thought had destroyed me.

But I’m not the same girl they exiled.

My heels click softly against the marble as I descend further into the hall, every step deliberate, every movement poised. The dress Damien had sent for me fits like a weapon, emerald silk that clings to my frame with an elegance that dares them to speak louder. My hair is swept into a sleek style that bares my face, refusing to hide.

I meet their stares head-on.

Some flinch, looking away as though burned. Others narrow their eyes, calculating, already trying to place me back into the neat little box they once forced me into.

I give them nothing. No weakness. No shame. Only a small, knowing smile as I glide past.

At the center of it all, Natalie notices me. Her lips part, her eyes softening with both surprise and joy. She excuses herself from a circle of guests and rushes toward me, gathering me into an embrace so tight it nearly cracks the armor I’ve wrapped around myself.

“You came,” she whispers, her voice trembling against my ear.

“Of course I did,” I murmur back, holding her close. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“You should have told me you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” she says and we both laugh. “Come let me introduce you to Louis.”

As I let her lead me through the crowd of people, I see familiar faces who look like they're staring at a ghost. I hear the whispers and feel the stares, but none of them get under my skin..

“Babe,” Natalie calls as we approach her husband. He stands with a circle of men, my husband included. “Meet Leina “

Louis gives me a polite smile, extending his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you, Leina. Natalie here won't stop talking about you.”

I let out a small laugh even as I feel the weight of Damien's stare on me.

“Leina!” A voice filled with fake enthusiasm sounds through the hall. I turn around and it's my stepsister, Cara. “I thought I'm not going to see you at Natalie's wedding. You know…since you're best friends and all.”

I turn slowly, letting my eyes meet hers fully. Cara’s fake enthusiasm does nothing to hide the surprise, and barely concealed irritation lurking behind it. The room seems to hold its breath as she steps a little closer, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing at the hem of her gown, as if adjusting herself for some imagined battle.

“Yes, Cara,” I say evenly, my voice calm but carrying a weight that makes her falter for the first time. “I’m here. After all, it’s Natalie’s day. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Her lips tighten into a thin line. “Well… you know, some of us thought maybe you’d be too ashamed to show your face here again. Especially after the scandal on your wedding day. It's a pity Marco could not make it. ”

“Too bad I don't give a fuck about you or Marco. You know what, Cara I think that's what has always been meant for you. My leftovers. First father's love and now Marco. Pathetic.”

Cara’s face flushes crimson, her mouth opening to strike back, her hand rising as if to slap me, but a hand wraps tightly around her wrist.