Chapter 11

WELCOME HOME

~CLAIRE'S POV~

The Blackwood Industries logo stared back at me like a malevolent eye.

I pressed my palms against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Alexander's penthouse, my breath fogging the glass as I watched the building that had once housed my dreams.

The irony was delicious…. From my new sanctuary, I had a perfect view of my former prison.

Twenty-six floors up, in the corner office with the mahogany desk and leather chairs, Richard Blackwood was probably drowning in whiskey and financial reports.

The thought should have thrilled me. Instead, it made my chest tight with something I refused to name.

"Miss Winfred?"

I turned to find Kimberly hovering with her tablet, giving off the kind of nervous energy that came from wanting to please.

Alexander's temporary assistant was everything Monica's chosen staff had never been—warm, genuine, eager to serve without hidden agendas.

"The flight was fine," I said, though she hadn't asked yet.

"And this place..." I gave a sign to the perfect penthouse with its museum-quality art and designer everything.

"It's perfect."

Too perfect. Like a stage set waiting for the performance of my life.

Kimberly beamed. "Mr. Hayes handled every detail personally. He wanted you to feel immediately at home. Speaking of which, you need to be ready by seven tonight."

My stomach dropped. "For what?"

"He said he would explain, but there are gifts waiting." She nodded toward three boxes arranged on the glass coffee table like offerings on an altar.

I approached them with the warning of someone who had learned that beautiful packages often contained ugly surprises.

The smallest box revealed emerald jewelry that probably cost more than my old wedding ring. The middle box held silver heels that looked like they could cut glass.

The largest contained a white dress that screamed 'look at me' in the most elegant way possible.

Each piece was flawless. Each piece was chosen specifically to make me tempting.

Each piece felt like armor for a war I wasn't sure I wanted to fight anymore.

I grabbed my phone and called Alexander, needing to hear his voice even as it made me feel like a fraud.

"Claire." His voice wrapped around my name like silk. "Tell me New York is treating you well."

"Like a queen returning to her kingdom," I said, the lie sliding off my tongue with skillful ease. "Thank you for the gifts. They're stunning."

"You haven't seen anything yet." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"There's a welcome party tonight. Thomas Hartwell…old family friend…insisted on celebrating our engagement properly. I couldn't refuse without seeming ungrateful."

A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. "A party on my first day back? Someone's feeling dramatic."

"The whole city wants to see the woman who captured Alexander Hayes. We're front-page news, darling."

We. As if we were a real couple instead of a carefully orchestrated lie built on my need for revenge and his genuine love.

"Well then," I said, fingering the emerald necklace, "we shouldn't disappoint our public."

"That's my girl. I'll pick you up at seven sharp."

The endearment hit me like a physical blow. "Alexander..."

"Yes?"

The words stuck in my throat. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being everything Richard never was. I'm sorry I'm using you to destroy the man who destroyed me first.

"Nothing," I whispered. "Just... thank you."

"For what? I haven't even begun to spoil you properly." His voice softened. "I love you, Claire. More than you know."

I closed my eyes, hating myself. "I know."

After I hung up, I stared at the phone until the screen went black, then set it aside like it was made of poison.

"The glam team will be here soon," Kimberly announced something, seeming unaware of the crisis I was feeling inside..

"Mr. Hayes wants you to shine tonight. His exact words were 'make her impossible to ignore.'"

Thirty minutes later, my penthouse had become a battlefield of beauty.

Makeup artists and hair stylists worked quickly and accurately while I sat still in the chair. They transformed me into someone deserving of Alexander Hayes.

People around me talked excitedly.

They complimented my bone structure, congratulated me on my engagement, and shared gossip about other clients.

Their warm feelings were a sharp change from the cold professionalism I had experienced as Claire Blackwood.

Monica used to book my appointments.

Monica used to choose the people who made me feel small and vague while they whispered about my failing marriage behind my back.

Even my beauty treatments had been another form of psychological war.

The realization should have made me angry. Instead, it just made me tired.

"Absolutely divine," the makeup artist murmured as she stepped back.

I opened my eyes and barely recognized myself in the mirror.

The white dress molded to my body like a second skin, the off-shoulder design both innocent and seductive.

The emerald necklace drew attention to my collarbones, and my hair fell in glossy waves that caught the light with every breath.

I looked like a woman who could bring men to their knees.

I looked like someone who could destroy Richard Blackwood without breaking a sweat.

The team packed up their supplies with satisfied chatter, leaving me alone with my reflection. I walked to the windows again, watching the city lights begin to twinkle in the gathering darkness.

Somewhere, Richard was probably looking at financial reports that showed the dangerous decline of his business.

At the same time, Monica was probably realizing that winning my husband had cost her everything else.

I should have felt victorious. Instead, I felt hollow.

I picked up my phone and scrolled to Alexander's contact, my finger hovering over his name. He deserved the truth.

He deserved a woman who could love him back with the same intensity he loved her.

But I was too far down this path to turn back now.

I set the phone aside and returned to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass.

In the reflection, I could see myself clearly—beautiful, powerful, and completely alone.

Richard and Monica had taken everything from the woman I used to be. My trust, my marriage, my ability to love without fear.

They had turned me into this creature of calculation and revenge, and now I was about to unleash her on the world.

I touched the emerald necklace, feeling its effect like a collar around my throat.

"Welcome home, Claire," I whispered to my reflection, my voice carrying both a greeting and a threat.

Tonight, New York society would meet the woman Richard Blackwood had created when he destroyed his wife.

And tomorrow, he would begin to understand exactly what that was going to cost him.