Mirena woke to a dull throbbing in her temples. She blinked slowly, her vision hazy as she scanned the unfamiliar room.

As her surroundings sharpened into focus-the elegant furnishings, the subtle scent of sandalwood, and something distinctly masculine-she bolted upright.

This wasn't her room. Nor any place she recognized.

Before she could gather her thoughts, the sound of running water cut off. The bathroom door swung open.

Out stepped Alexander, wearing nothing but a loosely tied robe, water still glistening along the lines of his chest.

For a moment, Mirena froze. Then, the memories of the previous day washed over her-the humiliation, the rain, his voice.

She was about to curse herself for showing such weakness in front of the one man who least deserved to see it, when instinct took over. Her eyes darted across the sheets, checking her clothes, searching for any sign she'd been touched.

Finding herself fully dressed, she released a quiet breath.

A low, knowing chuckle cut through the silence.

"Relax," Alexander drawled, running a towel through his damp hair. "In your current state, you're hardly in any condition to tempt a man."

Mirena's eyes narrowed. What Alexander didn't know was that throughout her five-year marriage, her mother-in-law and sister-in-law had constantly taunted her for lacking the charm to keep George's attention. Having her appeal questioned had become a raw nerve-and Xander was now dancing all over it.

She kicked off the covers and strode toward him without a word.

Alexander turned, expecting a sharp retort. What he didn't expect was for her to reach out without hesitation and tug hard on the tie of his robe.

In an instant, the fabric fell open, pooling at his feet. Mirena tilted her head, letting her gaze travel over him with deliberate, unhurried scrutiny.

"Hmm," she hummed, feigning disappointment. "Seems we're in the same boat. From the look of things, you don't have much to tempt a woman either, do you?"

A vein throbbed at Alexander's temple. His composure shattered. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, pinning her firmly but not painfully to the bed.

"Careful, Mirena," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't forget who picked you up off the streets yesterday when you were nothing but a drenched, helpless puppy."

His face was dangerously close, the fury in his eyes unmistakable-yet Mirena didn't flinch. She met his gaze steadily, her breath even, her composure unshaken.

"Is that so?" She arched a brow, a sly curve playing on her lips. "I don't recall asking for your help. Wasn't it your own choice to bring me here?"

For a moment, Alexander looked as if he wanted to strangle the ungrateful woman. "If it weren't for me, you'd be lying dead in some alley."

"And?" She tilted her head. "What do you want, then? For me to repay you with my body?"

He stiffened, then released her abruptly as if she'd burned him. "Did five years as a housewife rot your brain? A stubborn woman like you holds no appeal. Even if you were the last woman on earth, I'd rather die than share a bed with you."

Mirena's smile only sweetened. "Are you sure?" In one fluid move, she caught his wrist as he tried to turn away. In the next heartbeat, their positions reversed-she was above him, pinning him down.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"You'd rather die than sleep with me," she murmured, leaning in until her lips hovered just a breath from his. Her gaze, however, remained cool and clear. Alexander clenched his fists, fighting to steady the sudden wild rhythm in his chest.

She held him there, suspended in tension, watching him closely. Just as he began to sway toward her, she pulled away.

"Not bad," she remarked, her tone regaining its familiar pride as she released him. "It seems you do have some self-control. And just so we're clear-the feeling is entirely mutual. So it's good to know I'm perfectly safe around you."

Without looking back to see the storm on his face, she slid off the bed and walked calmly toward the bathroom. As she went, she let her dress slip carelessly from her shoulders and pool on the floor. Now that she had confirmed his lack of interest, she felt secure in her own skin.

As longtime rivals, they knew each other too well to ever cross that line.

The moment she stepped into the bathroom, a loud crash echoed behind her-the bedroom door slamming shut with enough force to shake the walls.

Mirena refused to let that bother her. What she needed now was the solace of a hot bath.

Half an hour later, she emerged from the steam, the faint, lingering scent of Alexander's cologne still hanging in the air. As she faced her reflection in the mirror, a memory surfaced-sharp and unbidden.

Five years ago, just before her wedding to George, she had made a wager with Alexander. If she could make George fall in love with her within five years, she would win thirty percent of Nexus Global-the crown jewel of New York's investment scene, and one of Alexander's most prized companies. If she lost, she would owe him thirty percent of Octa Investments, the firm she had built from nothing.

Like every challenge before it, Mirena had thrown herself into the bet, determined not to lose.

But now, with a quiet sigh of defeat, she picked up her phone and initiated the transfer.

She had lost to Alexander. Again.

The truth left a bitter taste in her mouth. She clicked her tongue, studying her own face in the glass. As much as she hated to admit it, the woman staring back was no longer the one people once respected without question. Years of playing the subdued housewife, the placeholder, had dulled her edges-had made her someone she barely recognized.

But that chapter was over. No more clipping her own wings for a family that didn't value her, a husband who didn't see her worth.

It was time to reclaim the throne she'd left behind.

With renewed resolve flashing in her eyes, she dressed quickly and threw one of Alexander's long coats over her shoulders.

Then she strode out of the room, ignoring the stunned stares of the household staff as an unfamiliar woman emerged confidently from their master's private suite.

Once outside, she dialed George's number and pressed the phone to her ear.

He picked up on the fifth ring. "Mirena, do you have any idea how many times I've-"

She cut him off cleanly, her tone icy and controlled. "You want a divorce, don't you? Then meet me at the Hills. Let's settle this now."

Mirena strode into the Hills exactly one hour after leaving the Pierce Estate.

The restaurant was as pristine as she remembered-floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline and the scent of aged wine mingling with faint citrus polish.

As she slid into one of the chairs, she glanced at her watch and scoffed silently.

She'd arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed time. George, however, was nowhere to be seen.

However, twenty minutes later, he finally walked into the restaurant. But he wasn't alone.

Hanging off his arm like some cheap handbag, was none other than the lady who'd turned her entire life upside down in less than a night.

Camille.

Of course, she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the sight of them. She was his first love, of course he wouldn't hesitate to show her off to the world.

Unlike her.

Something about that thought left a dull sting that she immediately brushed off, crossing her legs elegantly as she watched them walk towards the table like some fairy-tale couple drunk on their own illusion.

As they drew closer, George finally looked away from Camille and for a second, something flickered in his eyes, before it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar look of disdain.

That look morphed into tenderness as he stopped to pull out a chair for Camille with that same gentlemanly precision he'd never used on her.

Seeing that, Mirena gave a bitter laugh dripping with mockery.

"What's this?" She asked calmly, dragging her eyes from George to Camille who still clung to his arm. "We're here to discuss something important and you brought along your mistress?" She arched one of her brows. "Did you mistake this restaurant for a brothel?"

That got the couples attention, pulling them out of their fairy-tale illusion at last.

When George turned to look at her, his eyes frosted over and his voice lacked the tenderness it had held just seconds before.

"You've always had a way with words, Mirena, never stopping to think before you speak. It's no wonder I could never fall for you."

"Georgy!" Camille chided beside him, her voice and composure embodying the very best of demure innocence. "Don't say that to Mirena. It's not her fault if being an honest person makes her unattractive."

After saying that, she turned to look at Mirena, spotting a guiltless smile as she added. "Aren't I right, sister?"

The mockery in her tone pulled at the corners of Mirena's lips.

She chuckled lightly and leaned back in her chair. "Camille," she stared, mimicking Camille's sweet tone. "If I wanted someone who built her self-esteem between men's sheets to defend me, I would have asked you."

The smile on Camille's face faltered almost immediately. Suddenly, a loud sound echoed in the space around them.

"Enough Mirena," George warned, palm pressed flat against the table. "Don't cross the line."

She tilted her head and met the glare he was sending her way. In the past, she would have played the good wife, lowered her head and apologized immediately.

Gone were those days.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" she asked, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, placing her chin against the back of her palm and examining Camille like she was something incredible.

The sight of her, all innocent and dulled up, hurt Mirena's eyes to stare at. But she had to admit.

"Mistress material indeed," she blurted out without hesitation.

George's expression hardened. A muscle in his jaw ticked and the hand laying flat on the table folded into a ball.

"You don't like that title, do you?" Mirena asked the moment she noticed his reaction. "Then sign the divorce papers as soon as possible and save her the embarrassment."

Surprise flashed in George's eyes.

Upon coming here after getting Mirena's call, he expected her to apologize for the scene she caused yesterday, for ignoring his calls all throughout the night; he expected her to beg, cry-cling like the woman who once waited for him every night, no matter how late he came home.

But this version of Mirena? Cold, composed, unrecognizable. It pinched something in his chest.

"Fine," he said, dragging a document from his briefcase and sliding it across the table. "Here. The divorce agreement. At Camille's insistence, I added a generous settlement for you."

Mirena picked up the document, eyes gliding over the figures after flipping it open.

After a second, her lips curved.

"You call this generous?" She tossed the agreement back on the table like it was a joke. "That's not even enough to buy a penthouse of my standard." She muttered.

Her words pulled an amused laugh from George. Someone who had never seen more money than groceries money, was rejecting five million dollars.

Was this her new way of trying to get his attention?

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Mirena slapped a file of her own on the table.

His eyes drifted down to it. "What's this?"

"Divorce Agreement," she announced, her voice cool, almost cordial. "Except on my terms."

"Your terms?" He parroted.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, an air of arrogant confidence surrounding her as she spoke. "I waive all compensation. I don't want your chicken cent."

Both George and Camille blinked, taken aback.

"However," she continued, tone softening to something far more dangerous, "I am reserving my right to take legal action against you and the Sterlings for slandering me-accusing me of fraud, remember? Of impersonating." she paused and glanced at Camille, addressing her with a nudge of her head. "That."

A smile kissed the corners of her lips when Camille's eyes twitched and the edges of her ears turned red with contained fury.

George however, scoffed. "Still putting on a show. You always loved the drama." His tone held s heavy note of dismissal.

"Go on, act out, put on a show and entertain me for once in your life. I'll clap for you once you've gotten tired of this act."

He rose after saying that, grabbing Camille's hand with one hand, and the divorce agreement with the other.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Millie, let's go, we don't want to be late."

With that, they both walked out of the restaurant. Mirena watched their backs, then her eyes dropped to their entwined hands and she scoffed.

How romantic, she sarcastically thought, reaching into the pocket of Alexander's coat and pulling out her phone.

Her fingers glided across her screen before hovering above one number for a few seconds.

Then, with a sigh, she clicked on the number and pressed the phone against her ear.

On the second ring, the phone was answered and surprise dripped from the voice that filtered through the other end.

"Mirena? Rena, is that really you?"

A smile crossed Mirena's lips at the familiar voice of Ada Campbell, her best friend.

"It is," she said softly. "How have you been, Ada?"

"Mirena!" Ada exclaimed, sounding every bit of the bundle of joy Mirena remembered her to be. "You finally called after all these years! You finally remembered us."

"Mhm," Mirena hummed, turning her gaze to the window. "I finally realized that it's time I stop giving my attention to the wrong set of people. I apologize for going incognito all these years. I'll make it up to you by catching you up on everything. Bills on me."

"If you insist then," there was a mischievous pause in her words and briefly, Mirena regretted saying those words. "I know just the place for us to meet up."

An hour after the phone call Mirena had with Ada, she stood by a yacht dock, staring up at a super yacht.

Her eyes scanned the structure with mild awe and thick nostalgia.

She'd almost forgotten what luxury truly felt like. After getting married to George and becoming a doormat for the Sterling family, she'd lived a middle-class life.

Despite all the wealth the Sterling family possessed, she wasn't given luxurious treatment. And as for George? He also allowed his sister to issue funds to her.

And well, we can all guess how that went!

Thank Goodness that chapter was finally over.

"Rena!" Ada's familiar voice pulled Mirena out of her thoughts.

A smile kissed her lips as she watched her best friend rush down the dock-black bob hair going wild in the wind.

When she finally got close enough, she threw herself into Mirena's arms, offering a bone-crushing hug.

Mirena let out a soft grunt, then a laugh, returning the embrace without restraint. In Ada's arms, she felt something she hadn't in years-unconditional warmth, support, and a love that asked for nothing in return.

She really had been a fool to abandon this life, all for George and the Sterling family.

"Jesus, girl, I've missed you!" Ada beamed as she pulled back, her sharp eyes sweeping over Mirena's outfit. "And this look," she added, a knowing gleam in her expression.

Mirena's smile grew. Thank goodness she'd stopped by a boutique on the way.

The moment Ada mentioned an exclusive yacht party-the kind attended only by top-tier socialites and old-money elites-Mirena knew the simple clothes she'd worn to leave Alexander's wouldn't do.

Thirty minutes and one power-shopping spree later, she stood transformed: a sharp leather pencil skirt, a sleek strapless crop top, knee-high boots, and-still draped over her shoulders-Alexander's tailored coat.

"That outfit's fire," Ada complimented as she entwined their fingers and began pulling her towards the yacht.

"God, you have no idea how long I've waited for this," Ada, as usual, carried on as they stepped on board.

Mirena allowed her gaze to drift across the yacht's interior. Soft gold and midnight blue tones glowed under low lighting, every surface polished to a liquid sheen. The air hummed with muted conversations and the clink of crystal-a familiar symphony of wealth and exclusion. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. This was Ada's world, and for a moment, it felt like coming home.

But her smile wavered as she noticed the stares. Guests glanced her way, some squinting in curiosity, others with dawning recognition. Whispers began to weave through the music, hands lifting to mask murmured comments.

With a calm exhale, Mirena turned back to Ada, who had just procured two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter.

"After all these years," Ada said, handing her a glass, "you're finally back to being you."

Mirena accepted it with a graceful nod. "Well," she replied, taking a measured sip, "I suppose shedding parasites does wonders for the complexion."

Ada rolled her eyes in mock sympathy. "Parasites? Darling, George and the Sterlings were a full-blown infection. You're lucky you made it out before they rotted your soul completely."

"A bit late, but I finally did," Mirena conceded, the champagne bubbles fizzing softly on her tongue. "Better late than never, right?"

"Better late than never," Ada echoed, her smile warm and unwavering. "Congratulations, then. You've finally ditched the leeches and returned to where you belong." She lifted her glass slightly. "Welcome back, Ms. Crowne."

The old alias stirred something deep in Mirena's chest-a thrill she had long suppressed for George's sake.

A genuine smile returned to her lips. "Thank you, Ada."

She followed her friend toward what she assumed would be a relaxing spa session-their original plan. But the whispers only grew louder as they entered the main salon.

"Isn't that Ms. Crowne?"

"What's she doing here? Is she making a comeback?"

This time, no one bothered to lower their voices.

"You're still a hot topic, I see," Ada murmured as they settled into recliners, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Mirena simply chuckled, unbothered. She shrugged off Alexander's coat, sank into the plush chair, and closed her eyes. She hadn't come for gossip or past dramas-only for peace, a good spa day, and her best friend's easy company.

But Ada, of course, had other plans.

"By the way," Ada began, slipping off her sheer kimono jacket to reveal a sleek crop top and shorts, "we're gambling tonight."

Mirena cracked one eye open. "We?"

"Don't give me that look," Ada pouted. "Ryan's hosting a high-stakes game downstairs, and he may have. persuaded me to join."

"Let me guess," Mirena said, sitting up slowly. "You're losing again?"

Ada's guilty grin said it all. "In my defense, they're cheating!"

She leaned in, grabbing Mirena's arm with desperate enthusiasm. "Come on, Rena, help me out here. I've been fighting alone for years-I need my partner back." She batted her eyelashes, bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated plea. "Please?"

Mirena watched her for a moment, then gently pulled her hand away, a fond smile playing on her lips. "You're incorrigible."

"But you love me anyway, don't you?" Ada beamed.

Shaking her head in amusement, Mirena downed the last of her champagne. "You owe me another spa date. Let's go."

She rose to her feet, and Ada followed eagerly, their coats draped over her arm like a happy attendant.

"Let's go make them cry, Rena!" Ada cheered in a hushed voice. "Let's show them the queen is back-and their reign is over!"

Mirena laughed softly, but as they stepped out of the spa area, she walked straight into a solid chest and stumbled back a step.

Before she could stumble, strong hands caught her waist, steadying her effortlessly.

"Mirena?"

That voice-deep, familiar-sent a flicker of surprise through her. She looked up into warm, knowing eyes.

"Logan." Her lips curved into a genuine smile. The man who had once been her business partner-and so much more-stood before her, unchanged yet different.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice softer than she intended.

"When Ada said you were back, I almost didn't believe it," he said, his tone as smooth as she remembered. "But here you are."

She smiled faintly. "And you've grown taller." The old tease came naturally, as if no time had passed.

Logan leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Life's been good. Better now that you're here."

He flashed that smile-the one that had always disarmed her-and she opened her arms instinctively. He didn't hesitate, wrapping her in a warm embrace, his face buried against her neck.

"I've missed you, Renny," he murmured. "Welcome back."

Her hand came up to stroke his back gently. "Thank you, Logan."

Beside them, Ada cleared her throat loudly. "I'm here too, you know."

Logan lifted his head and offered her a casual wave. "Ada."

"That's all I get? No hug? Fine then-Rena, let's go. We've got a game to win."

"Where are you headed?" Logan asked, his hand lingering comfortably at the small of Mirena's back.

"Gambling," Mirena replied. "Ada's on a losing streak."

Logan nodded slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah."

"I'm coming with you," he said.

When Mirena nodded, Ada didn't object. The three of them fell into easy conversation as they moved toward the casino-a familiar trio reunited.

But from the shadows of the upper deck, someone watched.

Alexander's knuckles whitened around his glass. With a sharp snap, the stem broke in his grip, yet he didn't flinch. His jaw tightened, his gaze locked on the scene below-on her.

On them.

Logan's hand resting possessively on Mirena's back. The ease in her smile. The intimacy he hadn't seen in years.

Something dark and possessive twisted deep within him.

In the next instant, he hurled the shattered glass against the nearest wall, where it exploded into a thousand glittering pieces.