The revenge of the billionaire's woman

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ndeliers, bathing the atmosphere in a warm glow. Mélissa observed the scene from a remote corner of the room, a glass of champagne in hand. She wore a deep black dress, elegant and si

knew that the elegance of her appearance, the assured calm of her posture, discreetly caught everyone's attention. She notic

t she remained impassive, forcing herself to keep a stony face. He seemed relaxed, carefree, talking jovially with a few friends. She watched his gesture

, that she was no longer the same woman, but she still feared that the memory of their relationship would disturb the control she had acquired

m. He stared at her, a mixture of surprise and intrigue in his eyes. She looked at him for a few seconds, indifferent, as if he

ant as if he himself did not believe what he saw. He stopped a few inch

u? » His voice betrayed a mixt

She no longer had to play a role, everything about her expressed distance and indiff

plied simply, in a cal

outfit, as if he were trying to find the woman he had once known. But the Melissa from before was no longer there

as if struggling to understand what w

and almost imperceptible. "Thi

ing for words. Then, gathering his courage, h

time. I was hopin

ind a semblance of connection, seemed ridiculous to him. It only took a few words for him to understand that h

» she replied in

flicker of uncertainty cross his eyes. This was not t

hat," he stammered. "I think we should g

d to a vague "all that"? She couldn't suppress a sarcastic smile. He didn't deserve any explanation. She had drawn a line

she replied dryly, turning h

happening. He was looking for something, a connection, a me

much. I made mistakes, I know that. I wish I coul

perienced could be erased, as if she could forget this pain to give him a second

she said sharply. "We have to l

e middle of the crowd. She knew she had piqued his curiosity, perhaps even his regret. And it didn't affect her at all. This was precisely t

spect that her confident walk and her attitude as an independent woman aroused. She knew that he was looking at her, that he was unable

t notice, from afar, her ex's clumsy attempts to reach out to her, to try to start the conversation again. Each time, sh

er again, and this time he looked at

at happened to you, what turned you like this... But I would like y

It was too late for excuses and regrets, too late to try to make up for it. She had spent too many night

that words are worthless without actions. And so far, all

longer able to understand. Then, without another word, she turned on her he

to the c

action wash over her. She