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Lahat ng Kabanata ng A Ruthless Revenge: the Billionaire's Ex Wife Is Back: Kabanata 381 - Kabanata 390

430 Kabanata

CHAPTER 381

Damien’s POV“Run it again,” I said.The screen refreshed, lines of access logs cascading downward in muted blue and gray. Damn. Too clean. Something’s off. My trusted head of internal security, Ross, leaned against the edge of the desk. “We’ve run it six times already. Same result.”“Good,” I replied. “That means it’s consistent.”“Or invisible,” he countered.I didn’t look away from the screen. “Nothing invisible leaves a footprint this precise.”I zoomed in on a timestamp—three seconds. That was all it took to activate the pathway.Three.Seconds.“This access route,” Ross said carefully, “was sealed decades ago. It predates most of our current architecture.”“Not sealed,” I corrected. “Dormant. Big difference.”He swore softly. “Sir, the only people who would even know this path exists—”“—would’ve been here before I ever took control,” I finished. Silence pressed in.At first, the name Levi had lit up like a distraction flare. His credentials brushed against the activation win

CHAPTER 382

Alain’s POVFashion week always had a way of blurring faces, erasing identities, turning people into silhouettes and movement.That was why blending in was easy.A pair of dark glasses. A cap pulled low. Clothes deliberately blending in. I stood near the far side of the venue, close enough to feel the pulse of anticipation but far enough to remain unseen. Exactly how I needed it.The room shimmered now—transformed. Light cascaded where there had once been emptiness. The runway stretched sleek and confident through the hall, every detail controlled, intentional. Music served as a background of conversations, like a restrained heartbeat.Celeste’s world.I felt an unexpected tightening in my chest.She deserved this.After everything—after the storms she’d survived, the losses she never spoke about, the burden she carried with quiet dignity—she deserved to see her vision take form this way. To stand at the edge of something beautiful and own it.I wished, briefly, uselessly, that I coul

CHAPTER 383

Alain’s POVMy heart raced. I straightened slowly, bag still in my hand, and turned as if I’d been summoned rather than caught. The trick was not to look guilty. Guilt attracts attention. Confidence dismisses it.The man standing behind me wore a headset crooked over one ear, clipboard tucked against his chest. Late thirties. Exhausted. Annoyed. Exactly the kind of person who didn’t have time to question anything if you gave him the right answer fast enough.“I was told to clear personal items,” I said calmly, already zipping the bag shut and setting it back on the table. “They’re moving this rack in two minutes.”His eyes flicked from the bag to the rack, then to me. He frowned, processing.“By who?”I didn’t hesitate. “Wardrobe.”It was vague enough to sound legitimate. Specific enough not to invite follow-up.He clicked his tongue, irritated. “They never coordinate,” he muttered, already half convinced. Then his gaze sharpened as he studied my face more closely.“…Wait.”My stomach

CHAPTER 384

Alain’s POVAnother model stepped closer to Hazel, adjusting her own sleeve. “Everything okay?”Hazel nodded automatically. “Yeah. Just family stuff.”The other girl lowered her voice. “You’re killing it out there, you know.”Hazel’s smile flickered. “That’s because I don’t have the luxury of messing this up.”The words were soft. Flat. Final.“What do you mean?” the girl asked.Hazel shrugged, eyes on her reflection. “I mean… this isn’t just a dream for me. It’s rent. It’s groceries. It’s school fees. If I don’t make this work—” She stopped herself, then shook her head. “Never mind.”The girl hesitated. “That’s a lot to carry.”Hazel met her gaze in the mirror. “It’s not ambition if failure isn’t an option.”My eyes narrowed. And I felt a tinge of pity. That wasn’t the voice of someone reckless. Or spoiled. Or careless enough to invite trouble for the thrill of it.That made me uneasy.A stylist approached briskly. “Hazel, you’re next.”She nodded once, professional again in an inst

CHAPTER 385

Celeste’s POVThe music surged to life, swelling slowly, sending a tremor through the floor beneath my feet.I stood just off to the side backstage, one hand braced against the curtain, the other curled tight around my phone. Excitement and nerves tangled sharply in my chest—not the kind born from doubt, but from the sheer weight of the moment pressing down on me.Breathe, Celeste.I had been someone before. In New York. In rooms where my name carried respect and my work spoke before I ever did. I’d earned my place there, stitch by stitch, collection by collection.But Paris was different. I felt like it was sharper and more unforgiving. Like this was my one chance to prove my worth in this industry, to do a successful comeback, especially after my name was smeared in the media. Paris didn’t hand out second chances—it carved legends and buried the rest.The curtain shifted slightly as the first look stepped onto the runway.My breath caught.The room changed instantly. I felt it eve

CHAPTER 386

Harper’s POVThe hall was dark except for the runway, where sharp beams sliced through the space like intention made visible. The music pulsed—slow, controlled, almost predatory—and one by one, Celeste’s designs came alive beneath it. Fabric caught the light. Silhouettes moved with purpose. Confidence radiated from every step.“Oh my God,” I breathed, leaning forward without realizing it.Michael’s hand tightened around mine, his thumb brushing lightly against my knuckles. It was such a simple gesture, but it made me feel giddy and grounded at the same time. We were sitting openly together—no hiding, no pretending this was casual—and the fact of it made my chest feel too small for my heart.“She did it,” I whispered.Michael smiled, eyes never leaving the runway. “She always does. That’s a true Lancaster right there.”“And that’s my best friend.”We grinned at each other then, greatly proud of Celeste and what she has accomplished despite everything. Each look earned its own reaction

CHAPTER 387

Genevieve’s POVI chose a seat near the back. Close enough to see everything. Far enough not to be seen.Braids tucked tight against my scalp. Thick glasses perched low on my nose. A coat too plain to remember. I’d quickly perfected this version of myself—quiet, forgettable, safe. The kind of woman people look past without a second thought.You’re not her anymore, I reminded myself as I settled in.But I just needed to be here. The lights dimmed.The first note of music rolled through the hall, deep and deliberate, and something inside me tightened.Because I knew.I didn’t need the program. I didn’t need the whispers. The second the first model stepped into the light, I knew whose work this was.Why does she keep on surviving and then rebuilding her life again and again, while mine just keeps crumbling and getting worse?!The crowd leaned forward almost as one. I heard it—the intake of breath, the low murmur of appreciation spreading like a tide.“Beautiful,” a woman near me whisper

CHAPTER 388

Celeste’s POVHazel… I can’t stop thinking about her. Who is she? I mean, of all the models I could have for my show, she had to be one of them. Someone who looked so much like the woman who had tried to destroy and hurt me over and over again. The resemblance lingered like a half-remembered dream—unsettling, inexplicable. I shook it off, forcing myself back into the moment. Focus, Celeste. Stop thinking about her. The show was building toward its final stretch. I could feel it in the way the energy tightened, the way everyone moved with sharper focus. Assistants whispered cues. Stylists hovered, fingers flying. Somewhere beyond the curtain, the music shifted—deeper, richer.A soft vibration against my palm broke my concentration.I glanced down.Damien:[You’re extraordinary out there. The collection looks unreal under the lights. I’ve never been more proud of you.]His message made me smile and feel calmer and lighter. I peeked through the side opening again, careful not to be

CHAPTER 389

Damien’s POVThe applause faded in waves, rolling back into murmurs as the lights softened and the crowd slowly exhaled.I stayed where I was for a second longer than necessary, my eyes fixed on the stage.Oh, Celeste. I knew you’d nail it. I’m so proud of you. Standing beneath the lights, bouquet in hand, Celeste was radiant in a way that had nothing to do with fabric or fame. Her name echoed through the room, carried on cheers and camera flashes, and pride hit me hard enough to tighten my chest.She did that.Paris. The runway. The comeback people would talk about for years.A man beside me leaned toward his companion. “That’s the one to watch,” he said. “Celeste Monroe. Remember the name.”“Yes, definitely,” I answered in agreement, smiling widely. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee’s voice rang out smoothly, “thank you for joining us for The Awakening. Please give our designers one final round of applause.”The crowd obliged, louder than before.Celeste turned, exchanging a brief

CHAPTER 390

Celeste’s POVColor and sound collided—white lilies, blush roses, flashes of cameras that had followed us behind the curtain, voices overlapping in a rush that made my head spin.“Celeste!”“Oh my God, you were incredible.”“That finale—brilliant.”Bouquets were pressed into my arms faster than I could keep track of them. I laughed, breathless, shifting flowers from one elbow to the other as familiar faces closed in.Harper reached me first, eyes bright, already half-teary. “You did it,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Paris, Celeste. You owned Paris.”Michael followed right after, pride written plainly on his face. “I told you,” he said, grinning. “I knew you’d shut them all up.”Auntie Eleanor clasped my hands, her voice warm and full. “I’ve never been more proud of you. Never.”Even the Lancasters stepped forward.Viv Lancaster smiled openly, genuine admiration softening her expression. “That was extraordinary,” she said. “You have a voice, Celeste. A real one.”Nathaniel n

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