Chapter 5

VICTORIA

I didn’t reply to Trent’s message. I stared at it for a while, then deleted it and went back to my sketches. He wasn’t part of my world anymore, and I wasn’t the same woman who’d once cried over him.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into years. Two years, to be exact.

In those years, I rebuilt myself from scratch.

I woke up early every morning, hit the gym, and pushed my body until it was exactly what I wanted to be—strong, fit, and curvy. My eyes didn’t look tired anymore. I learned how to walk into a room and command attention without saying a single word.

The woman I used to be—shy, easily intimidated, and too forgiving—was gone.

Now, I was Victoria Hale, CEO and Designer. The woman who had built Hale Couture from nothing into one of the biggest names in fashion.

It started small with local features, appearances in a few online magazines, and whispers in the fashion world. Then my big break came: runway shows in Paris, London, and Milan; stunning red carpet dresses at the Grammys and Oscars; and features in Vogue, Vanity Fair, and Glamour Magazine. My designs became statement pieces, not just clothes.

Within a year, Hale Couture was everywhere in the world.

Every morning, when I stepped into my office which had glass walls, white marble floors, and sunlight pouring through, I felt proud. My name was on the door, and this time, no one could take it away from me.

Reporters started calling me “The Ice Queen” even though they had no idea what I looked like. They said I was too much of a perfectionist, too confident, and too hard to read. I didn’t mind. That name meant power. And for the first time in my life, I had it.

No one knew I was Trent Rhodes’ ex-wife.

When people asked about my past, I just smiled and said, “It taught me everything I needed to know.”

Clark had become more than an investor. He was my partner and closest friend. We had built Hale Couture side by side, and through all the late nights and endless stress, he had never once let me fall.

Sometimes, though, I’d catch him looking at me a little too long, and I couldn’t tell what was behind his eyes. Friendship? Admiration? Something else? I never asked.

One afternoon, I was reviewing a new batch of sketches in my office when Clark walked in, holding his phone.

“There’s a gala next month in New York,” he said.

I didn’t look up. “Another one?”

“This one’s different,” he said, dropping the device on my desk. “It’s the biggest one of the year. Every top CEO, executive, and designer in the fashion world will be there.”

I finally looked up. “So what’s the catch?”

He hesitated for a second before answering. “Rhodes Enterprises will be there.”

My hand froze mid-air. “Trent and Diana?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s time.”

I stared at him, trying to decide if I was ready. The thought of seeing them again made my stomach clench, but I’d come too far to hide now.

“What would people think?” I asked quietly.

“That Hale Couture has arrived,” Clark said simply.

For a while, I didn’t speak. Finally, I nodded. “Then let’s make an entrance.”

***

The weeks leading up to the gala were filled with chaos. My days were choked up with meetings, fittings, interviews, and calls with stylists. Everyone wanted to know what the mysterious “Ice Queen” would wear to her first major public event.

Even the press couldn’t get enough.

“Who is Victoria Hale?” one headline read.

“A fashion empire surrounded in mystery,” said another.

I smirked when I read them all. If only they knew the truth, that the woman they were writing about was once thrown out into the rain by the man now sitting on the same guest list.

In between all the noise, Clark remained by my side. He’d drop by my office, remind me to eat, or tell me to go home and sleep, but I never listened.

“You’re going to burn yourself out,” he warned one night as he leaned against my office door.

I looked up from my desk. “You say that every week.”

“That’s because you never listen.”

“I’ll rest when the world sees me for who I really am,” I said, half-smiling.

He sighed but smiled too. “Then I hope you’re ready, because they’re about to.”

***

When the day of the gala finally came, I woke up before my alarm. My chest felt light, almost nervous, but not in a bad way.

This wasn’t only about revenge. It was also about showing the world what I’d become. Showing him what he’d lost.

My team spent the day preparing me. Makeup artists, stylists, and photographers were all buzzing around the studio. Isabella flew in from Italy just to be there, and the moment she saw me in my dress, she froze.

“Vic,” she whispered. “You look like a movie star.”

I smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Good. I plan to make an impression.”

The dress was one of my favorite creations. It was a silver silk piece that shimmered like light on water, with a neckline that was bold but elegant. It wasn’t just a dress. It was a statement that was meant to convey, “I’m no longer the woman you threw away.”

Before I knew it, the black limousine was waiting downstairs. Clark was already inside, looking breathtakingly handsome in a black suit.

“Ready?” he asked when I slid in beside him.

“As I’ll ever be,” I said.

The ride to the venue was quiet. Outside the windows, New York glowed under the city lights, just like the night Trent had chased me out. But this time, I wasn’t crying.

I was coming back stronger.

As the limousine slowed in front of the hotel, I heard the noise before I saw it: flashes from cameras, reporters shouting, and everyone else sounding really excited.

Clark glanced at me. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, you know.”

I turned to him and smiled. “Oh, I’m not proving anything just yet. I’m just reintroducing myself to the world.”

When the door opened, I stepped out into the light.

The cameras flashed like fireworks.

“Victoria Hale!” someone shouted. “Over here!”

I smiled and posed, letting them take their pictures. As I walked up the red carpet slowly, my dress caught the light with every step I took. The air was cool, but my blood was warm with confidence. Reporters called out my name, wanting comments, but I just smiled politely.

When we got to the entrance, Clark whispered, “You ready?”

I looked at the tall glass doors that led into the ballroom. Behind them were the people who’d once laughed at me, ignored me, and left me broken. Somewhere inside, Trent and Diana were probably smiling, believing they had won.

Not anymore.

As I reached for the door handle, my pulse quickened. My reflection in the glass stared back, and what I saw was a woman who no longer needed anyone’s approval.

I could almost hear Trent’s voice from years ago, mocking me, telling me I’d never survive without him.

I smiled at my reflection. “Watch me.”

The crowd inside buzzed as the doors opened, but I didn’t step in yet. I just stood there for a second, soaking in the moment.

Even the whispers outside faded to silence.

The Ice Queen had arrived.

I smirked, thinking about how I couldn’t wait to show Trent how powerful I was now; more successful, more admired, and worth far more than him.

He was about to regret ever divorcing me.