CHAPTER SiX

THREE YEARS LATER

The ballroom glittered like a jewel box under a thousand chandeliers, each surface polished to an impossible gloss. Music drifted like silk through the air, and laughter blended with the clink of champagne flutes. But underlying the gilded surface was tension — the kind only the powerful disguised.

I moved through the crowd with the assurance of someone who belonged there, but every step was purposeful. My heels clicked on the marble floor, each one the measured beat of my heart. My emerald satin gown shimmered in the light, clinging to every curve like armor, and my mask—smooth, obsidian crystals flung like stars rested lightly over my face, concealing all… and nothing.

They didn’t know me. Not yet.

Three years ago, I’d been a shadow in rooms like these. And then I was ignored, left behind by a cheat who thought stepping on me was the final act of his rise. And as fate would have it, there he was in front of me, talking and smiling, his arm possessively around the waist of a statuesque blonde in red. His fiancée, if I recalled correctly. 

The last I heard, she was old money and even older ambition. Perfect for the man who once claimed to love me, until my usefulness ran out.

I could have waited for the revelation. Could have walked straight to the stage and allowed the moment to explode.

But there was just one thing I wanted to know first, though: whether he'd recognize me without being told. So I worked through the crowd, scanning for a waiter with a silver tray to offer the perfect cover. A second later, I turned around and bumped straight into him.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, clutch dropping from my hand as its contents spilled onto the floor with a metallic clatter.

Those strong hands were bending down at the same time as mine. Our fingers met and as he looked up. Time froze.

Those eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized reflexively, as he picked up my compact while I reached for a lipstick. He stared at me. His brow furrowed ever so slightly beneath the elegant black mask. I could see it now, confusion flickering like a loose light switch.

"Have we met before, miss?" he asked, his head tilting slightly to one side.

I smiled slowly, taking my compact from his hand. "Not yet.

His fiancée's voice sliced through the moment. "Darling? Is everything alright?" He blinked, faked a smile and nodded. But it was surface. He was nervous. 

I turned before he could say another word, dissolving into the crowd like smoke. But not before I saw that tight look of confusion. The strain in his jaw. He just stood there, watching me vanish, maybe questioning whether his mind was playing tricks on him.

Good start!

I slipped into a side hallway that led to the backstage. A tech greeted me with a clipboard and a nod. "Miss Davids, you're up."

I drew a slow breath in. My moment had come.

When the host finished the introduction and stepped aside, the lights dimmed. The room hushed, a thick anticipation falling like velvet over the audience.

And I went out. My heels' soft click on the stage echoed in the silence. I did not need to scan the room. I felt every eye shift in my direction. Curiosity rippled through the room—who was this woman in the brilliant green gown and bejeweled mask? They were about to find out. 

I moved closer to the microphone and spoke, my voice cool as glass filled with ice.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

The room hushed. Cameras lifted.

"My name is Liana Davids. And I'm the CEO and founder of Z-Core." 

That was all I needed to start the commotion. Gasps exploded like firecrackers. I removed my mask slowly, deliberately, my eyes locking with his across the room like a missile finding its target.

There he was. My Dominic, frozen and pale.

His jaw was loose and he looked totally knocked out.  His fiancée clutched his arm, saying something urgently, but he didn't flinch. His eyes were locked on mine.

“A few of you have heard the rumors," I started, turning to address the crowd with perfect calm. "Rumors of a tech company rising stealthily, picking up assets other folks thought were garbage. Building something powerful in the dark."

I smiled gently. " Firstly, let me tell you that it's all true."

There were murmurs, then quiet again.

"Z-Core was born of rejection. Of betrayal. Of ashes some of you here helped create.".

They glanced at each other. They had no idea who I was talking about. But he did.

"Too many people in power believe that silence is submission. That those who quietly walk away are defeated. That women, especially the quiet ones who silently watched the men in their lives lord over them don't return to the battlefield."

My eyes shifted only slightly enough for him to catch a breath. "But sometimes, silence is a strategy. Sometimes those you discard are the ones you should fear the most.".

Dominic's face split. His fiancée stared at him confused but the words had sliced through like glass. 

"I spent years watching men take credit for what they didn't construct. I watched them smile in rooms like these while others were left behind to clean up the mess. I even watched them steal ideas to present in boardrooms. But I didn't break, I built myself up. I studied. I watched them underestimate me and I let them.". A second wave of whispers bathed the ballroom again. The spotlight burned even hotter. 

"Z-Core is not the future. It's the present. We've outpaced the legacy firms. We've taken the scraps you discarded and turned them into gold. And tonight is not a debut. It's a reckoning."

I paused and let the next line land.

"If you're in tech and you don't know my name yet… you will.".

Applause boomed out but Dominic looked dazed—like a man seeing the ghost of his past return not to haunt, but to triumph.

I stepped back from the mic, basking in the storm I had unleashed. The crowd surged to its feet. Cheers. Flashes. Frenzied murmurs. It was a chorus of vindication.

And then to my greatest surprise, Dominic stepped away from his fiancée, edging closer to the stage. He didn't rush it. He was caught in some internal tug-of-war, unsure if he should grab on or run. I began to descend the stairs of the stage and met him halfway.

I could feel his breath catch as we stood inches from each other. He stared at me as if he'd seen a ghost but I didn't care. I leaned in close enough for him to hear.

"You didn't even recognize me," I whispered, my voice velvet-covered steel. "Three years, Dominic. And all it took was a new dress, a goddam mask and some power for you to forget the woman you left bleeding."

His mouth opened to say something, then closed again. I looked away from him and directly into the eyes of a man waiting nearby. “It looks like a cat cut your tongue so I'll be around the corner. Ex-husband.”

I walked to my date and he pulled me close, and I kissed him. A kiss that said: 

You're not even a memory now. You're just a lesson.

I didn't notice the crowd was still staring until the room erupted into cheers. And camera flashes went wild.

In the heat of all of it… I turned around to look at Dominic, he was immobilized. Pale. Lost.

His fiancée now stood a few feet behind him, blinking rapidly, stunned and clearly sensing something was very, very wrong. I met Dominic's gaze one last time and then I winked—slow and wicked. 

The party is just getting started and he has no idea what I have in store for him.