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After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 1277    |    Released on: 05/12/2025

Years

d onto black velvet. It was the first Monday in May. The

ay had broken, leaving a crisp, cool night

k limousine. The cameras flashed inst

is jawline was harder, his eyes colder. He wore

trying too hard-a sheer, sequined number that left little to

ver here!" The pho

e?" one reporter sho

tions about Serena. She had vanished. Not a single paparazzi photo. Not a single credit card transa

rs were still sitting in his safe, signed by her, unsig

eezing his bicep. Her nails dug in thr

of exhaustion. He unhooked

ic crowd. Even the photographers low

olls Royce Phantom, painted a deep, midnight

oor o

exte

Toned muscle wrapped i

n step

he noise was deafening, like

It was a tight, mermaid cut that restricted her stride to an elegant glide, with a

, styled in classic Hollywood wave

ng. High cheekbones, full lips painted a deep berry

there, radiating a kind of cold, majestic power th

car. It was Sebastian Cole. Julian's busine

offered the woman his arm. She took

whisper rippled

at a m

ebastian's

looking down. He felt paralyzed. His

ce. Not really. It was

the

w thos

haunt

issed, her voice laced

déjà vu washed over him, but he pushed it down. It was impossible. The wo

to ascend the stairs. As they

es locked o

dilated. The noise

miration. Lust. The way w

he saw

ooked at him the way one looks at a p

ttention to Sebastian, laughing at something he whispere

pang of rejection so sh

d abruptly, turning his b

to a garden of white roses. Waiters circulated with ch

. She didn't drink it. She just held i

stian murmured in her ear. "I t

e was racing. Seeing him again... it was harder than she thought.

ing," Sebastian not

in the room he doesn't own," Serena corrected. "He doesn't re

e women who used to mock her at the country c

now, whispering, dying to k

" A shri

ian over. She couldn't help herse

re glued to Serena. He was studying her,

voice tight. He looked at Serena. "I

e grin. "Julian. Elena. This

ed for

can also call me

an f

m like a physic

or the fat. He looked for the

there. And ye

repeated. "Relation

voice was smooth, devoid of the stut

was testing the name on his tong

ut I believe we have something in commo

was surgical. It dissected Ele

s," Serena lied.

flushe

t Serena's eyes. They were the same gray. Th

en. And Kensington? The Vance family had no connection to the British

n slipped out before he could stop it. H

. It didn't r

terling. I would have re

d some air. The desperation in

g there, clutching his drink so hard th

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After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
“Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."”