EVA'S POV
I shouldn't have come back here.
My hand trembles as I step out of the black limousine. The same white mansion looms before me, glowing under golden lights. Five years ago, I wore handcuffs in this exact spot. Camera flashes blinded me while reporters screamed questions. Security guards dragged me past these same marble steps as everyone I knew watched.
Tonight, I'm wearing a crimson gown that costs more than my first apartment. My diamond necklace could buy a small house. Nobody knows I'm Evangeline Cross—the woman they destroyed. Tonight, I'm Celeste Monroe, the venture capitalist everyone fears.
"You're shaking." Dominic's British accent is soft beside me. His hand touches my elbow gently.
I force my hand steady. "I'm fine."
"We can leave, Celeste. You don't have to do this."
But I do. I've planned this moment for three years. Every company I bought, every deal I made, every billion I earned—it all leads here.
"I'm not running anymore," I whisper.
The gala is exactly how I remember. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling like frozen tears. Rich people in expensive clothes drink champagne and pretend to care about charity. Classical music plays softly. Everyone is smiling, laughing, making deals.
They don't see the ghost walking among them.
My phone buzzes. A text from Nadia: Bella's asleep. Don't worry. Go get your revenge, boss lady.
My heart squeezes. Bella. My four-year-old daughter with grey eyes she got from her father. The father who doesn't know she exists. I touched my necklace—inside the locket is Bella's photo. My reason for everything.
"Champagne?" A waiter appears.
I take a glass but don't drink. I need my mind sharp tonight.
"There's Morrison from Tech Weekly," Dominic murmurs. "He's been wanting to interview you for months."
"Later." My eyes scan the crowd. "First, I need to find—"
Then I see him.
Adrian Thorne stands across the ballroom, surrounded by men in suits. He's taller than I remember. Harder. His dark hair is perfect, his suit probably costs twenty thousand dollars. But there are lines on his face that weren't there before. Shadows under his eyes.
Good. He should suffer like I did.
My chest tightens. Five years, and he still makes my heart race. I hate that. I hate that some stupid part of me remembers loving him. Remembers his laugh, his smile, the way he used to look at me like I was his whole world.
Before he threw me away like garbage.
"That's Adrian Thorne," Dominic says quietly. He knows everything. My real name, my past, why I'm here. "Are you ready?"
"I was born ready."
I start walking toward Adrian's side of the room. Not directly to him—that would be too obvious. I move slowly, letting people see me. Letting whispers follow.
"Who is she?"
"Celeste Monroe. She just bought Meridian Tech."
"Thorne's going to lose millions because of that deal."
Music swells. I smile at strangers. Accept compliments. Play the role perfectly. But every step brings me closer to him.
Then someone calls his name. "Thorne! Over here!"
Adrian turns.
Our eyes meet across fifty feet of space.
The world stops.
I watch recognition slam into him like a train. His face goes completely white. The champagne glass in his hand shakes. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
He knows.
Five years of hiding, three years of planning, and he knows me in one glance.
"Eva," I see him mouth my old name.
My heart pounds so hard I might faint. But I've practiced for this. I arranged my face into a cold smile—the kind that cuts like a knife. Then I turn away slowly, like he means nothing.
"Let's go to the terrace," I tell Dominic.
But I only take three steps before a hand closes around my wrist.
The touch burns like fire. I know this hand. I've held this hand. This hand put an engagement ring on my finger once.
"Evangeline." Adrian's voice cracks on my name.
I look down at his hand gripping my wrist—right where handcuffs cut into my skin five years ago. Then I look up at his face. He's breathing hard. His grey eyes are wild, desperate, confused.
"You're mistaken," I say clearly. "My name is Celeste Monroe."
"No." He moves closer. Too close. I can smell his cologne—the same one from before. "I know your face. I know your eyes. I've seen them every night for five years—"
"You know nothing about me, Mr. Thorne." I pull my wrist free slowly. "Though I've heard of you. Heard you're having supply chain problems with Meridian Tech?" My smile sharpens. "How unfortunate."
Understanding hits him. His eyes widen. "You... you bought Meridian."
"I buy lots of companies. It's what I do."
"Eva, please—"
"Stop calling me that." My voice could freeze hell. "That woman died five years ago. You made sure of it."
People are staring now. Whispering. Phones are coming out.
"We need to talk," Adrian says desperately. "Privately. Five minutes. Please."
"You had five years to ask for five minutes." I step back. "I'm not interested in anything you have to say."
I turn to leave with Dominic.
Adrian's voice follows me, raw and broken: "I know the truth! I know you were innocent!"
I freeze.
Slowly, I look back at him. He's standing there in his perfect suit, tears in his grey eyes, looking destroyed.
"You're two years too late," I whisper.
Then I walk away.
But my phone buzzes as I reach the terrace. Unknown number. The message makes my blood turn to ice:
Pretty daughter you have, Evangeline. Bella, right? She looks so sweet sleeping in her pink bedroom. Would be a shame if someone told Adria
n the truth.
My champagne glass shatters on the marble floor.