Evelyn POV
Home didn't feel like a place that night.
It felt like a reward.
The moment Liora pushed the door open, the smell of warm food hit us — onions, pepper, something frying gently in oil. Not rushed. Not anxious. Comfortable. The kind of smell that told you someone had been cooking without fear.
Her mother stepped out of the kitchen when she heard us.
"You're back," she said, wiping her hands on a towel. Her eyes moved from Liora to me, warm and curious. "How did it go?"
Liora looked at me, practically vibrating.
I smiled.
"I won."
For a second, her mother didn't react — as if she hadn't processed the words.
Then her hands flew to her chest.
"You did?" she asked softly.
"Yes," I said. "I'll be representing Halcyon. Home and abroad."
Her eyes filled instantly.
"Oh," she breathed. "Oh, my dear."
She crossed the space between us and pulled me into a hug so sudden and tight I froze for half a second before hugging her back. Her arms were warm. Strong. Familiar in a way I didn't recognize — and that realization alone made my throat ache.
"I'm so proud of you," she said. "So proud."
No one had ever said that to me without condition.
Liora laughed, brushing at her eyes. "I told you she'd win. I told you."
Her mother stepped back, smiling through tears. "We have to celebrate."
"We don't have much," Liora started.
"We have enough," her mother cut in gently. "And enough is plenty."
The celebration was small.
Rice. Stew. Juice in mismatched glasses. Music playing softly from Liora's phone. Laughter that didn't feel forced. I sat there watching them move around the kitchen, arguing lightly over salt and spice, and something loosened inside my chest.
For the first time in a long time, happiness didn't feel like something I had stolen.
It felt allowed.
At some point, Liora raised her glass. "To Evelyn," she said. "For surviving everything and still standing."
I laughed. "That's dramatic."
"It's accurate," her mother said.
We clinked glasses.
I smiled.
And meant it.
Elsewhere
The bathroom was quiet — too quiet for a place filled with women who had just lost or won something.
Selene stood at the mirror, hands braced against the counter, staring at her own reflection like it had personally betrayed her.
She hated that Evelyn's face kept intruding into her thoughts.
Calm. Controlled. Unshaken.
The door opened behind her.
She didn't turn.
"I was wondering when you'd come in here," a voice said casually.
Selene finally looked.
Talia leaned against the sink beside her, touching up her lipstick like this was just another break between fittings. Perfect posture. Perfect expression. Eyes that missed nothing.
"Do I know you?" Selene asked coolly.
Talia smiled. "Not well enough. But I know you."
Selene scoffed. "Then you know I don't like being approached."
"Good," Talia said. "That means you're honest."
Selene turned fully toward her. "What do you want?"
Talia capped her lipstick and met her gaze. "Evelyn Hart."
Selene's jaw tightened.
"What about her?"
"I want her out of the picture," Talia said simply. "And I suspect you do too."
Silence stretched.
Then Selene laughed. Sharp. Disbelieving. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you lost today," Talia replied calmly. "And I know you don't accept losses."
Selene studied her now. Really studied her.
"And what makes you think I'd work with you?"
Talia tilted her head. "Because you're angry. And I'm prepared."
Selene crossed her arms. "Prepared for what?"
"For the long game."
Selene hesitated. "Why do you hate her so much?"
Talia's smile faded.
"She didn't do anything to me," Talia said quietly.
Selene frowned. "Then why—"
"Because she exists," Talia interrupted. "And because everything bends around her without her even trying."
Selene swallowed.
That sounded… familiar.
"She walked into Milan like she belonged there," Selene said slowly. "Like she had a right to take what the rest of us clawed for."
Talia nodded. "Exactly."
Selene searched her face. "What did you do?"
Talia didn't flinch. "Enough to know I can't afford to lose again."
Selene exhaled slowly.
"And you think I'll help you?"
"I think you already want to," Talia replied. "I'm just offering structure."
Selene looked back at the mirror.
At herself.
At the version of her who refused to be second.
"What's the plan?" she asked.
Talia smiled again — sharp this time. "Halcyon is just the beginning."
Selene turned back to her.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Then Selene extended her hand.
Talia took it.
Their grip was firm.
Intentional.
"Let's make her fall," Selene said.
Talia's eyes gleamed. "Oh, she will."