The mirror reflected not just her image, but a new beginning.
Ayla stared at herself — not the girl who had stumbled into someone else's life with no memory, not the fragile patient waking up in a hospital bed. But her. A girl who had fire in her veins and two legacies burning behind her eyes. One born of blood, the other forged in love.
Elise fastened the final button on her dress. "You don't owe them anything."
"I know," Ayla said, applying her gloss with a steady hand. "But I want them to see me — really see me."
"You don't have to fight tonight," Jean added from the doorway, "just… speak."
"I will," Ayla murmured. "But I won't just speak. I'll win them."
The conference hall was already packed before she arrived. Cameras lined the back, shareholders filled the front, and every seat in between buzzed with whispers. Every screen in the country had already tuned in.
And then — silence.
Ayla entered, head held high, draped in sapphire silk that caught the light like a storm. Behind her walked Elise and Jean, silent pillars of support.
But to the far left of the hall, two other figures stepped in.
Leon.
And Maureen.
He looked sharp, but tired — eyes darker than usual, hair still wet from a rushed shower. He wouldn't have come. Truly. But Maureen had insisted. Had begged, smiled, flirted, and pressed — "They'll all be there," she said. "They need to see us."
She clung to his arm like a trophy, chin high, smile smug.
Leon hated every second.
His eyes found Ayla immediately. She didn't look at him — not once.
Maureen noticed.
She tugged him closer, just enough for everyone to see the way she brushed invisible lint from his collar.
"Are you nervous?" she whispered in a teasing tone.
"No," he said flatly, pulling his arm free.
Maureen's smile faltered.
Up at the podium, Ayla took a breath.
Lights dimmed. Microphones buzzed alive.
She leaned forward.
"Good evening."
Her voice was calm — not loud, not trembling, but clear. Every word that followed was slow, deliberate. She didn't read from notes. She didn't need to.
"I woke up in a world that no longer knew me. And at first, I didn't know myself either. I thought I was someone else. I believed in a name, a family, a history that wasn't mine. But love raised me. Grace accepted me. And now, truth sets me free."
People watched, leaning forward. She wasn't just beautiful — she was captivating.
"I am Ayla," she continued, "daughter of Viper, love and accepted by a family who even didn't know who I was but they believed in me— and I choose not to reject either part of my story. Because I am not a scandal. I am not a stolen identity. I am not confusion. I am legacy."
Cameras clicked. Gasps echoed.
She smiled gently.
"And I understand if that unsettles you. But I promise you — I am here to lead with integrity, not intimidation. I'm not here to take over the empire. I'm here to make sure the empire doesn't forget its soul."
People clapped.
Then they rose.
A standing ovation.
Leon watched her like she was made of fire and light. His throat was dry. His hands clenched.
She had never looked more like his Ayla than now.
Maureen's hands were folded so tight, her knuckles turned white.
Ayla bowed slightly — poised, perfect — then descended the stage with Elise and Jean beside her.
The girl who'd once lived in someone else's shadow had now cast her own.
And everyone saw it.
Even Leon.
Especially Leon.