The ballroom at the LeClair Hotel was a hive of glitter and power, but Selene Valen made it stop.
She walked in like a storm dipped in fire.
A crimson backless gown hugged her like sin. Her hair was twisted into a crown of thorns, lips painted like blood. No ice tonight—only heat, and enough danger to make even billionaires pause mid-sip.
Julian choked on his champagne when he saw her.
She was every contradiction he remembered and everything he'd forgotten how to handle. A threat, a promise, a reckoning.
Beside him, Marcus blinked. "I thought you said she was cold."
"She's not cold," Julian muttered. "She's frostbite you crave even when it kills you."
Across the room, Camille stiffened.
Vincent whispered beside her, "She's not just making a statement. She's declaring war."
Camille forced a smile. "Then let her. She's outnumbered."
But even she didn't believe it.
Earlier That Day
Selene's Penthouse
"Are you sure?" Evelyn asked, carefully zipping up the dress Selene had chosen. "You look… lethal."
"That's the point," Selene replied, her tone a glacier wrapped in silk. "They expect the Ice Queen. Let them see fire for once."
She faced the mirror.
Tonight wasn't about business. It was about control.
About reminding Julian she wasn't someone to be pitied.
About showing Camille that a crown forged from ambition wouldn't melt under betrayal.
And maybe, just maybe, it was about reclaiming the version of herself she'd buried the moment Julian walked out.
At the Ball
Camille made her move first.
With poise honed from years of PR warfare, she approached Selene, arms open in faux-sisterhood. "Darling, you look absolutely ravishing tonight. That color... it's brave."
Selene didn't flinch. "And you look like a well-dressed apology."
Camille blinked, caught off guard. "Pardon?"
"Oh, don't worry. You wouldn't be the first woman to dress guilt in designer."
Before Camille could recover, Selene walked past her and straight into Julian's line of sight.
The Conversation
Julian stepped forward, hesitant. "You're making the whole room nervous."
"That's because they're waiting for me to either stab someone or kiss you," Selene replied coolly.
Julian almost smiled. "Which is it tonight?"
"Depends," she said, sipping her wine. "Did you bring Camille for protection or provocation?"
"I didn't bring her."
"No?" Selene arched a brow. "She just teleported into your life the moment I walked out, then?"
Julian's jaw tightened. "You don't get to rewrite history, Selene. You pushed me away."
"And you let me."
The words landed like a slap, quiet and sharp.
He looked down. "I'm still trying to figure out if I regret walking away."
Selene's eyes glittered. "Don't worry. I'll regret it enough for the both of us."
Meanwhile: Marcus and Evelyn
In a quieter corner of the ballroom, Marcus and Evelyn shared a drink. For once, they weren't watching the fireworks—they were trying not to start their own.
"She's out for blood tonight," Evelyn muttered, eyeing Selene. "Wearing red like that? That's not fashion. That's armor."
Marcus chuckled. "And what's yours?"
Evelyn smiled. "Secrets."
"You're dangerous."
She leaned in, whispering against the rim of her glass, "You have no idea."
Camille's Next Move
Backstage, Camille paced. Vincent was on his phone, texting furiously.
"She stole the spotlight," Camille hissed. "That dress—who told her to wear red? I approved silver!"
"She's not following your rules anymore," Vincent replied.
"Then we remind her why she should."
He looked up. "You sure you want to do this?"
"I didn't climb my way here to be overshadowed by a woman who weaponizes heartbreak."
Vincent smirked. "Then unleash hell."
A Leak
An hour later, headlines hit the web:
ICE QUEEN MELTS DOWN: Leaked Audio of Selene Valen Threatening Staff Emerges Online
Julian's phone buzzed. Marcus checked his. Camille's smile curled into something venomous.
Selene? She didn't blink.
Because it wasn't real.
She leaned into Julian's ear. "Tell your girlfriend to try harder. That clip's from two years ago. My earrings were different."
Julian stared at her.
Selene turned to the crowd and raised her glass. "To scandal. May it keep the cowards entertained."
Later That Night
Back at her penthouse, Selene tore off the dress and stood by her window, half-draped in moonlight, phone in hand.
One message blinked.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: That was impressive. But be careful. You're not the only one who can play with fire.
She stared at the message.
Paused.
Then typed:
SELENE: Good. I was getting bored.