All Chapters of Ashes Of His Regret : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

ESMERALDA'S POVThe day of the gala arrives faster than I expect.Two weeks of preparation, of training, of building myself into something stronger and suddenly it's here. The moment I'll have to prove I'm more than the broken woman Julian left behind.I wake up at six AM, my stomach already churning with nerves.Lila is already awake, coffee brewing in the kitchen. She looks at me over her mug, assessing."You okay?""No." I pour myself coffee with shaking hands. "I'm terrified.""Good. That means you care." She sets down her mug. "Now drink that, eat something, and let's get started. We have a long day ahead."The hair appointment is at noon. A salon in Midtown that Lila swears by, expensive enough that I feel guilty walking through the door."Just a trim and style," I tell the stylist a woman named Sophia with platinum hair and dramatic eyeliner.She runs her fingers through my hair, studying it. "When's the last time you had this cut?""Six months? Maybe longer.""It shows." But s

ESMERALDA'S POVI freeze mid-step, my hand still on the exit door.That voice. Deep and unfamiliar, but somehow commanding enough to stop me in my tracks.I turn slowly.The man standing behind me is tall, easily over six feet with dark hair that's just long enough to look deliberately unkempt. Sharp jawline. Expensive tuxedo that fits like it was custom-made. But it's his eyes that catch me.Storm-blue. Intense. Looking at me like he sees something worth his full attention."I'm sorry?" I manage, my voice shakier than I'd like.He steps closer, and I catch his scent expensive cologne, woodsy and subtle. Nothing like Julian's obvious designer fragrance."You're running," he says. Not a question. A statement. "From him, I presume?"He gestures vaguely toward the grand hall behind us, where Julian is presumably still holding court with Vivienne and his mother.My breath catches. "I don't know what you're talking about."His mouth curves into something that's not quite a smile. "Don't yo

ESMERALDA'S POVThe sculpture garden swallows the noise of the gala the moment I step through the doors.Out here, the city hums distantly muffled by stone walls and carefully manicured hedges. Soft golden lights illuminate marble sculptures at intervals, casting long shadows across the paths. The November air is sharp, biting at my bare shoulders and the exposed skin of my back.I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling vulnerable without Damien's warmth beside me.Where is he?I walk deeper into the garden, my heels clicking against stone. A couple lingers near the entrance him whispering something into her ear, her laughing softly. I pass them without a glance, moving further in where the light grows dimmer and the shadows longer."You're early."His voice comes from somewhere to my left. I turn.Damien is leaning against a marble bench beneath a stone archway, half-hidden in shadow. He's loosened his bow tie it hangs undone around his neck now, the top button of his shirt ope

CELESTE'S POVThis was not supposed to happen.I stand with Margaret Pierce and her circle of socialites, champagne in hand, watching the disaster unfold across the room.Esmeralda..pathetic, broken little Esmeralda is glowing. Radiant in that backless black dress that probably cost more than she could afford. And worse, she's glowing on Damien Hale's arm.Damien. Hale.Of all the men in Manhattan, she chose Julian's worst enemy."Well," Margaret murmurs beside me, barely concealing her delight at the drama. "This is unexpected."Unexpected doesn't begin to cover it.I've been managing Julian's image for thirty-five years. Guided every decision, orchestrated every strategic move. The divorce from Esmeralda was supposed to be clean, quiet, forgettable.She was supposed to sign the papers, take her pittance, and disappear into whatever mediocre life awaited her.Instead, she's here. Looking like she belongs. Making Julian look like a fool."How long do you think that's been going on?" a

ESMERALDA'S POVTwo PM the next day, a black Mercedes pulls up outside Lila's apartment building.I watch from the window as the driver steps out professional, discrete, clearly expensive. Damien's doing."You don't have to do this," Lila says behind me. She's been saying variations of this since I told her about the deal this morning."Yes, I do.""Fake marrying your ex-husband's enemy to destroy him while comforting his dying mother? Esme, this is insane.""So is letting Julian win." I grab my purse, check my reflection one more time. Simple black dress, understated jewelry. Appropriate for meeting a dying woman. "I'll be fine.""Will you?"I don't answer. Because I don't know.Last night replays in fragments Damien's penthouse, the scotch, the cold negotiation of our arrangement. Professional. Transactional. Strategic.Everything except that moment at the elevator when he admitted the kiss wasn't just insurance.I push the thought away.This is business. Revenge. Nothing more.The