Elena's POV
I can't stop shaking.
I'm sitting on the cold sidewalk outside Wolfe Enterprises, mascara running down my face, and I can't stop shaking. People walk past me like I'm invisible. Like I'm trash someone forgot to pick up.
Maybe that's exactly what I am.
Adrian called me a liar. Said we never met. Looked at me like I was nothing—worse than nothing. Like I was something disgusting he needed to scrape off his expensive shoes.
And Vanessa stood there smiling. Actually smiling while security dragged me out.
My own sister destroyed me, and she enjoyed it.
I press my hands to my stomach, to the tiny life growing inside me. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry your father is a monster and your mother is a fool."
My phone buzzes. Another text from the unknown number.
I should ignore it. Should throw my phone in the trash and disappear. But something makes me look.
The message has a photo. It's me, right now, sitting on this sidewalk crying. Taken from somewhere close.
They're here. Watching me. Right now.
Below the photo: Poor Elena. Rejected, humiliated, alone. But don't worry—you still have options. Check your bank account.
My hands shake as I open my banking app. There's a new deposit.
One hundred thousand dollars.
My breath catches. That's more money than I've ever seen in my life. More than enough to start over. To take care of my baby. To escape this nightmare.
Another text: Consider it a gift. From someone who understands what it's like to be betrayed by family. More where that came from—if you're smart.
I stare at the number. One hundred thousand dollars. Just... given to me. By the person who's been tormenting me for four weeks.
It doesn't make sense.
Unless they want something worse than money.
A black car pulls up to the curb beside me. Expensive. Tinted windows. The back door opens.
"Get in, Elena." A woman's voice, not distorted this time. Smooth. Educated. Powerful.
Every instinct screams at me to run.
But I'm pregnant, broke, homeless, and alone. Running got me here. Maybe it's time to try something different.
I stand up on shaking legs and get into the car.
The woman inside is maybe sixty years old, silver hair pulled back, sharp violet eyes that see everything. She's wearing clothes that cost more than my entire life, and she looks at me like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve.
"You're smarter than you look," she says. "I was betting you'd run."
"Who are you?" My voice is hoarse from crying.
"Someone who can help you." She hands me a bottle of water. "Drink. You're dehydrated. Bad for the baby."
I take the water because my throat is raw. "You've been blackmailing me. Watching me. Ruining my life. Why would you help me now?"
"Because I'm not the one ruining your life, dear. Your sister is." The woman's smile is sharp. "I'm just documenting it. There's a difference."
"You sent me that video. You threatened me—"
"I informed you that you were being used. That's hardly a threat." She leans back, studying me. "Elena Chase. Twenty-two years old. College dropout because your father cut your funding. Worked at Chase Technologies until your sister got you fired. No friends because Vanessa isolated you. No support system because your family is toxic." She pauses. "And now pregnant with Adrian Wolfe's baby while he publicly denies you. Did I miss anything?"
Hearing my life summarized like that makes me want to cry again. But I'm done crying.
"What do you want from me?"
"Smart girl." The woman's approval feels strange. "I want to offer you a choice. You can take that money in your account and disappear. Raise your child in peace somewhere far from New York. Adrian will never bother you. Vanessa will forget you exist. You'll be safe."
"Or?"
"Or you can let me help you become someone they can't ignore. Someone powerful. Someone who makes them regret ever crossing you." Her violet eyes gleam. "I can give you money, resources, education, connections. Everything you need to build an empire of your own. But in return, you work for me."
"Doing what?"
"Whatever I need." She doesn't sugarcoat it. "I'm building something, Elena. Something that requires smart, motivated, underestimated people. You qualify on all counts."
"You want me to be your... what? Your employee? Your spy?"
"I want you to be yourself. Just the version of yourself that fights back instead of taking abuse." The woman leans forward. "Right now, you're broken. I can see it. Adrian's rejection destroyed something in you. But broken things can be reforged into weapons. Sharper. Deadlier. Unbreakable."
"Why me?" I ask. "Why help me specifically?"
"Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by family. To be thrown away like garbage. To be underestimated because of your gender and your age." Her voice goes cold. "And because Vanessa Chase needs to learn that actions have consequences. She drugged you, set you up, stole your sister's man, and framed you as a liar. She needs to pay."
My heart pounds. "You know Vanessa drugged me?"
"I know everything, Elena. That's my gift." She pulls out a tablet, shows me footage. Vanessa at the gala, slipping pills into champagne. Vanessa installing a camera in Adrian's hotel room. Vanessa meeting with the blackmailer—wait.
"That's you," I whisper, seeing the woman's face in the video. "You're working with Vanessa?"
"I was. Briefly. Until I realized she's a liability." The woman's smile is ice. "Vanessa hired me to create a scandal between you and Adrian. She wanted him dependent on her, wanted you destroyed. I took her money and did exactly what she asked. But then I watched the footage of that night, Elena. And I saw something interesting."
"What?"
"Adrian cared about you. Genuinely. For about three hours, before his trauma kicked in, he looked at you like you mattered." She pauses. "And you looked at him like he was your salvation. Two broken people finding something real. It was... inconvenient for my plans."
"So you decided to destroy us both?"
"No. I decided to give you a choice." She takes back the tablet. "Vanessa thinks I'm still working for her. She doesn't know I gave you that money. Doesn't know I'm offering you this opportunity. If you say yes, you'll be working against her. Against Adrian. Against everyone who hurt you."
"And if I say no?"
"You take the money and disappear. Live a quiet life. Be happy." The woman's expression softens slightly. "That's not a bad choice, Elena. Revenge isn't for everyone. Sometimes peace is worth more than justice."
I look out the window at Wolfe Enterprises. At the building where Adrian just destroyed me. At the world that's been crushing me my entire life.
Then I look down at my stomach, at the baby who deserves better.
"What's your name?" I ask quietly.
The woman smiles. "Moira Morven. And before you ask—yes, I'm your grandmother."
The car tilts sideways. "What?"
"Your mother was my daughter. Caroline Morven. She fell in love with Richard Chase, and I warned her he was a mistake. She married him anyway, and it killed her." Moira's voice is steady, but pain flickers in her eyes. "I've been watching you for years, Elena. Waiting to see if you were strong enough to survive. Today proved you are."
"You're my grandmother." I can barely process it. "And you've been... what? Testing me?"
"Protecting you. From a distance." She hands me a business card. Heavy stock. Expensive. "The Morven family is one of the three most powerful bloodlines in the country. Old money. Older secrets. Your mother abandoned it for love. But you, Elena—you could reclaim it. Become the heir I've been searching for."
"Why didn't you help me before? When Dad was treating me like garbage? When Vanessa was destroying me?"
"Because you needed to understand what the world does to weak people." Moira's voice is hard. "Now you do. Now you're ready to be strong."
I stare at the business card. At the promise of power and revenge and justice.
At the grandmother who watched me suffer and called it education.
"I need time to think," I say finally.
"You have twenty-four hours." Moira hands me a key. "This is to a penthouse I own. You have nowhere else to go—your father changed the locks on your apartment an hour ago. Stay there tonight. Think about what you want. Tomorrow, you decide: disappear into safety, or step into power."
The car stops. We're in front of a luxury building I could never afford.
I get out, legs shaking, and watch the car drive away.
My phone buzzes. Text from Vanessa: Hope you enjoyed your public humiliation. Next time, don't come after my boyfriend. —V
Then another text, from the same unknown number that sent me the money: Cameras caught everything. Your rejection is already online. Trending on social media. #PregnantAndRejected. You're famous now. Hope it was worth it.
I open social media with trembling hands.
There I am. Crying. Begging. Being dragged out by security. The headlines are brutal:
"CEO Rejects Pregnant Ex"
"Gold-Digger Gets Destroyed"
"Desperate Woman Claims Billionaire's Baby"
The comments are worse. Thousands of people calling me a liar, a whore, a gold-digger.
No one believes me.
No one cares that I'm telling the truth.
And in three of the videos, you can see it—Vanessa in the background, smiling.
I stand outside the luxury building, holding a key to a life I never knew existed, and make my decision.
Peace is for people who have something left to lose.
I lost everything today.
Now I'm going to take it all back.
With interest.