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POV THESSA

An arrogant man will never forgive you for leaving him hanging mid-sentence, but what truly rots his soul is realizing he is no longer listed even as an emergency contact in your phone.

The private salon at Maison Valois had settled into exquisite silence after Lilith and her mother were escorted out. While two new sales assistants cleaned away the broken glass and Selene finalized the boutique acquisition documents with our lawyers in Paris, I settled back onto an emerald velvet divan, holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee between my hands.

My mobile phone, a sleek titanium device the system had provided me earlier that afternoon, began vibrating on the marble side table.

No name appeared on the screen. Just a string of private digits I knew all too well, the direct, confidential line Edward Windsor never shared with anyone outside his boardroom. For three years, the original Thessa had memorized that number, praying every night it would light up her screen with a kind word or a simple message saying he would be late for dinner. It never happened. In three years, Edward had never once bothered to dial my number of his own accord.

Until now.

I let it ring four times. I took a slow sip of coffee, savoring its rich, roasted bitterness, before swiping across the screen with complete indifference and switching the call to speakerphone.

"Yes?" I said, barely suppressing a yawn.

On the other end of the line, Edward's heavy, ragged breathing preceded an explosion of icy fury, the exact tone he usually used to bring his executives to their knees.

"What pathetic little game do you think you are playing, Thessa?" he roared, his voice vibrating with murderous tension. "Lilith just arrived at the mansion in hysterics, having a full nervous breakdown, her clothes torn. She tells me you had security throw her out of the Lumière and bought an entire boutique just to humiliate her in public. Have you completely lost your mind?"

I set my coffee cup down onto its saucer with a gentle clink.

"I beg your pardon, Sir," I replied, my voice smooth and velvet-smooth, feigning the impeccable courtesy of someone answering a wrong number. "You have quite a melodious voice for making absurd complaints, but I do not keep irrelevant people in my contacts. To whom am I speaking?"

The silence that stretched across the line was so heavy I could almost hear his teeth grinding together on the other end.

"Stop playing dumb!" he snapped, completely losing that polished composure he loved showing off to the press. "You know exactly who the hell this is. It is Edward. Your..."

He stopped short. That word, husband, died in his throat before it could leave his lips. Because that very morning, in that very room where only the torn pieces of his charity remained, he had stripped me of that title himself with a look of utter contempt.

I filled that brief silence with a soft laugh, layered with icy condescension.

"Ah, Mr. Windsor. What a surprise. I would have thought you would be busy comforting your tearful fiancée or calculating your Wall Street portfolios at this hour. To what do I owe the honor? Did I leave another cup of coffee somewhere for you to drop a pen into?"

"Thessa!" he growled, and I heard the sharp crack of his fist striking the mahogany desk in his penthouse office. "Do not dare change the subject. I want answers right now. Where did you get the money for a suite at the Lumière and a European franchise in under ten minutes? And why on earth was Adam Germain's car seen waiting outside your entrance? What could you possibly have to do with him?"

A bright, melodic chime flashed gently in the upper corner of my vision.

[Ding! Extreme Emotional Fluctuation Detected in Target, Edward Windsor.]

[Latent Jealousy Level: 45%.]

[Humiliation and Helplessness Level: 60%.]

[Effect Triggered: Tycoon's Ego Has Suffered Fracture — Loss of Control Over Former Spouse.]

[Immediate Reward Credited: $20,000,000 Tax-Free + Corporate Intelligence Dossier on the Windsor Group.]

I smiled, feeling the comforting weight of twenty million more settling effortlessly into my account without me lifting a single finger. If every jealous outburst from this fool paid this well, I would end up buying his own company just to fire him in person.

"Mr. Windsor, it appears the divorce has affected your memory rather severely," I said, resting my head comfortably against the velvet backrest. "If I recall correctly, less than six hours ago you slammed a document onto my table and demanded I sign it so your precious Lilith would not feel uncomfortable. I signed it. I walked out that door without asking for a single penny of your tainted fortune. I am no longer your wife, I no longer live under your roof, and I do not owe you explanations about my finances, my properties, or which men I choose to spend my time with."

"Thessa, you are still my wife in the eyes of the law until the judge finalizes the documents next month," he snapped, his voice sounding possessive, almost desperate, a tone I had never heard him use in three years of marriage. "And while you still carry my name, you will not embarrass me in front of this entire city, and you will stay far away from Adam Germain. He is my greatest rival in the financial world, and you know that!"

"I carried your name, Mr. Windsor. Now I carry only my own," I corrected him, my tone as sharp and cold as polished ice. "And as for Lilith... tell your spoiled little princess to learn how to behave in public places. If she ever stands before me again to insult me or spills champagne on my carpets, next time I will not simply have her escorted out. I will sue her for defamation, and I will make certain her father pays every last cent of the legal fees with whatever little remains of his failing construction company."

"Do you honestly think putting on this pathetic show is going to make me regret letting you go, Thessa?" he sneered, scrambling desperately to restore that mask of untouchable superiority. "Do you imagine because you found some mysterious investor or sold yourself to the highest bidder that I am going to come crawling back to you?"

"Crawling back?" I laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound, fresh and utterly carefree. "Mr. Windsor, your vanity is almost as impressive as your blindness. Save your pleas for when you actually need them, because I assure you, Lilith's tears will not be nearly enough to save you once your board of directors discovers what is coming."

"What on earth are you talking about? Thessa! Answer me!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Windsor. I hope you enjoy your second-hand wedding."

Without waiting for another word, I slid my thumb across the screen and ended the call.

Immediately, I opened my phone settings, found his private number, and selected Block Contact without a single moment of hesitation.

The system interface lit up with a satisfying ping.

[System Notification: Communication Block Executed Successfully!]

[Edward Windsor Uncontrolled Anger Level: 75%.]

[Accumulated Regret Points: 25%.]

[New Mission Unlocked: Attend the Metropolitan Consortium Annual Gala this Friday and Claim 10% Share of the City's Textile Market.]

[Secondary Objective: Formally Meet Adam Germain.]

I set the phone down on the table and stood up. Before me, the garment racks holding custom-made evening gowns waited for my inspection.

I lifted my gaze to the full-length mirror. The woman looking back at me bore no resemblance to the broken, lonely creature who had died in a cold kitchen waiting for a man who never deserved her. I was a queen with unlimited funds and a score to settle that was only just beginning.

"Selene," I called out calmly.

"Yes, Miss Hyde."

"Pack the crimson wild silk gown, asymmetrical cut with an open back," I said, smiling as I fastened a pair of pearl drop earrings into place. "This Friday we have a gala to attend, and I intend to make absolutely certain my ex-husband cannot tear his eyes away from the woman he believed he had buried this morning."