Semua Bab Revenge is Best Served Cold: Bab 51 - Bab 60

Elena's POV I stood in the center of my new office, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city below. Twenty floors up in the financial district. Glass and steel everywhere. The kind of view that said you had made it. "Ms. Thompson, the caterers are here," said Sarah, my newest employee. She had started last week as my office manager. "Thank you, Sarah. Please show them to the conference room." I smoothed down my navy blue dress and checked my reflection in the window. I looked professional and successful. Nothing like the broken woman Elena Martinez had been one year ago. Phoenix Advisory now had six employees. Two junior consultants, two investigators, an office manager, and a marketing specialist. We had helped over thirty businesses recover stolen money, expose fraud, and protect themselves from financial predators. The local business magazine wrote an article about us last month. "The Rising Phoenix: How One Woman's Mission to Stop Financial Fraud is Changing the

Julian Gray's POV I sat in my red Tesla outside the office building, staring up at the twentieth floor where Elena's new business was located. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly I thought I was going to ruin the leather.After one year of searching, I had finally found her.Elena Martinez. The woman I had loved since freshman year of college. The woman who chose Marcus Martinez over me and then disappeared from the world."Just go up there," I said to myself. "The worst she can do is say no."But Elena had already said no once. Five years ago, when I had finally worked up the courage to tell her how I felt. She had been so kind about it, so gentle in her rejection. But it still felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest."Julian, you're my best friend," she said that night in the college library. "I love you, but not in the way you want me to.""But Marcus doesn't treat you right," I had argued. "He's using you, Elena. Can't you see that?""Marcus loves me," she

Marcus' POV I sat on the thin mattress in the corner of the abandoned warehouse, counting the money I had stolen today. Two hundred and fifteen dollars. Enough to meet Victor's quota with fifteen dollars left over for food.My hands were still shaking from seeing Elena's face on that billboard. Three hours later, and I still couldn't believe what I had witnessed."How much did you make?" Isabella asked from her mattress across the room."Two fifteen," I replied. "You?""One ninety," Isabella said. "Ten dollars short."My sister looked terrible. Her face was sad from hunger, and her clothes hung loose on her shrinking frame. The bullet wound in her leg had healed badly, leaving her with a permanent limp."Sophia?" I called out."Two hundred exactly," Sophia replied from where she was lying on her mattress. The scar on her face had turned into a thick red line that would never fade. "Barely made it."The three of us were sharing this space with about fifteen other people who owed Victo

Elena's POV After Jennifer left, I spent another hour in the office, reviewing client files and preparing for tomorrow's meetings. Sarah had already gone home, and the building was quiet.At seven o'clock, I decided to call it a day. I gathered my purse and jacket and headed for the parking garage.The elevator ride down felt longer than usual. I was tired from the interview, mainly from maintaining Elena Thompson's perfect image for an hour.Sometimes I missed being able to tell the truth, The whole truth exactly as it happened to me. To talk about Marcus and Isabella and Sophia, about Victor and the revenge I executed that destroyed my enemies before building my empire.But Elena Thompson couldn't tell those stories. She could only tell the sanitized version that made her look like a victim who became a hero because the world was not a fair place and people would definitely have their own opinion of things even though they knew Marcus and Sophia and Isabella were wrong.The elevato

Julian Gray's POV"There's a nice Italian place two blocks away," Elena said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Quiet, good food, not too expensive.""Sounds perfect."I walked beside her as we left her office building, and I couldn't help but notice how she maintained a careful distance between us. Not hostile, exactly, but definitely cautious. The afternoon sun caught the highlights in her hair, and for a moment I was back in college, walking across campus with her after late study sessions. She was always beautiful, but she was definitely more mature now in beauty.We walked to the restaurant in comfortable silence. Elena seemed more relaxed than I saw her since I found her again, though that wasn't saying much.The Italian restaurant was exactly as she described. It was small, intimate, with checkered tablecloths and the warm smell of garlic and fresh bread. The hostess, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, seated us at a table by the window overlooking the busy street.