The Queen’s New Suit

Ivy sat in the back of the black car, watching the gala lights fade away. Xavier Knight sat next to her, tapping a tablet screen. He didn't say a word, which was exactly why Ivy liked him. He knew the difference between a sad girl and a woman who was done.

"You really did it," Xavier said, finally looking up. "You broke the Vane family in under five minutes. Julian’s father is calling my office every ten seconds. He wants to know who the new owner is."

"Let him wait," Ivy replied. Her voice felt different. It was no longer the soft, shaky voice she used to please Julian. It was firm. "I want him to feel what I felt for three years. I want him to wonder if he’s going to have a roof over his head tomorrow morning."

Xavier nodded. "And Julian? He’s still following us."

Ivy looked at the side mirror. The headlights of a silver sports car were weaving through traffic behind them. It was Julian. He was driving like a madman, trying to pull up beside the limo. He looked desperate, his mouth moving as if he were calling her name.

"He doesn't give up, does he?" Ivy muttered. "For three years, he wouldn't even look at me in the hallway. Now that I have his company, he’s acting like I’m his oxygen."

"Should I have the security team pull him over?" Xavier asked.

"No," Ivy said, her eyes flashing. "Let him follow. I want him to see exactly where I’m going. I want him to know that the 'poor girl' he married lives in a world he can't even enter without an invitation."

The limo pulled up to the grand entrance of the St. Claire Estate. The gates were tall and made of gold. They opened slowly, as if recognizing their true owner had finally returned. As the limo rolled up the long driveway, Julian’s car tried to follow, but the security guards stepped out and blocked his path.

Ivy stepped out of the car. The servants were lined up, bowing low.

"Welcome home, Miss Ivy," they said in one voice.

She walked into the house, her heels clicking on the marble. She went straight to the large mirror in the hallway. She looked at the diamonds around her neck. She looked at the expensive dress. Then, she looked at her eyes. The pain was still there, but it was being pushed out by power.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her old phone, the one Julian had given her. It was buzzing. A text from Julian popped up on the screen.

Ivy, please open the gate. I know I was a fool. I was tricked by Bianca. Let’s just talk, please. I still love you.

Ivy felt a wave of cold laughter hit her chest. Love? He didn't love her. He loved his money, and he loved his pride. Now that both were in her hands, he was suddenly a romantic.

She typed back a simple message: The bakery is yours. The Vane empire is mine. Don't call me again.

She blocked his number and tossed the phone into a bowl of water on the side table. She watched the screen flicker and die. That was the end of Ivy Thorne.

"Miss Ivy?" Her grandfather’s voice came from the top of the stairs.

The old man walked down, leaning on his cane. He looked at her and smiled. "You look like your mother. She always had that look in her eye when she was about to win a war."

"I learned from the best, Grandfather," Ivy said, walking over to hug him. "Thank you for the gala. It was perfect."

"It’s only the beginning," the old man warned. "Julian is a small fish. The real sharks will come for you now that they know the St. Claire heiress is back. Are you ready for the board meeting tomorrow?"

"I’ve been writing Julian’s business plans for three years, Grandfather," Ivy said with a sharp smile. "I know every secret and every weakness of Vane Holdings. Tomorrow, I’m not just going to lead the board. I’m going to fire every person who ever laughed at me."

She went to her room, but she didn't go to sleep. She sat at her new desk and opened her laptop. She had a list of names. Bianca was at the top.

Bianca’s family business was a small fashion line. They relied on the St. Claire malls to sell their clothes. With one phone call, Ivy could wipe them out.

She was about to make that call when her room door flew open. A maid ran in, her face pale.

"Miss Ivy! I’m so sorry, but there’s trouble at the gate! Mr. Vane... he didn't leave. He tried to climb the wall and fell. He’s hurt, and he’s refusing to let the doctors touch him unless he sees you!"

Ivy stood up, her heart turning to stone. "He thinks he can still use his life to guilt me?"

She walked out of the room and headed for the balcony that overlooked the front gate. Below, in the moonlight, she saw Julian sitting on the ground, surrounded by guards. His expensive suit was torn, and his face was covered in dirt.

He looked up and saw her.

"Ivy!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "I won't leave! I’ll stay here until I die if I have to! You can't do this to us!"

Ivy leaned over the railing, her face cold. "There is no 'us,' Julian. There is only a boss and a man who is trespassing on her land."

She turned to the head of security. "Call the police. Tell them a stalker is trying to break in. If he’s still here in five minutes, have him arrested."

Julian’s face went from desperation to pure shock. He couldn't believe she was actually doing it.

As the police sirens started to sound in the distance, Ivy’s phone buzzed. It was a new message from an unknown number.

You think you won? The message read. Check the news. Your 'humility trial' wasn't as secret as you thought. The world knows you lied to everyone for three years. And they aren't going to be happy about it.

Ivy looked at the screen, her blood turning cold. Someone else was playing a much bigger game.