Celeste's POV

The room becomes silent... Like perfect breathtaking silence.

I relax and feel the moment. I know this is going to blow their minds... I just smile.

I allow the moment to stretch more, enjoying the anticipation building a mansion in Noah's eyes, even in the faces of the guests, and of course, I notice Sophia's expression; she grips tight on her glass.

I can't hold my laughter anymore. Soft at first, then I go louder and more amused until it echoes through the hall because everyone is silent and trying to understand what's going on with me.

Everyone started whispering in confusion.

Noah's smile disappeared, and his grip on the ring tightened more. "Celeste...?"

I take a step back, removing my hand from his. "No."

My reply sounded like a bomb had been released in the hall.

Noah freezes, his face creating a funny Spongebob facemask of disbelief. I think I'm already enjoying my rebirth.

"What did you say?" He asks me.

I tilt my head, amusement is written all over me. "I say no, Noah." My voice sounds clear and unwavering. "I will not marry you!"

The whispers in the crowd turn to roar.

"Noah's been rejected?"

"This is outrageous!"

"What's happening?"

Noah quickly composed himself, rising to his feet with a nervous chuckle.

"Celeste darling, I know you're nervous. It's a big moment. But there's no need to be shy."

Look at this fool... "I'm not shy," I interrupted his silly speech, my voice sounding with authority. "I simply don't want to marry you."

The crowd stops murmuring and listens in silence.

Noah's jaw dropped his perfect facade cracking. "Celeste," he calls in a low, warning tone, a voice meant only for me to hear. "This isn't funny."

I raise my brow. "Who says I'm joking here?"

A few steps from us, I can see Sophia's face has turned pale. I know she doesn't expect this turn of events, though no one expected it.

I turn back to the crowd, my voice carrying weight. "I apologize to everyone for the misunderstanding. But I will not be accepting this proposal. There was never a love story here, only an illusion."

Noah grabs my wrist. Not tight enough to hurt me but enough to remind me that he isn't used to losing.

"You don't want to do this," he whispers harshly. "Thinks about what you're doing Celeste."

I meet his gaze with a chilling smile. "Oh, I have. I've thought thoroughly about it for a long time."

He doesn't know I'm now smarter, he thinks I'm still that naive lady he throws lies at.

Noah's grip tightened slightly. "Celeste, we'll talk about this later--"

I yank my hand out of his grip in one swift movement, I take the box from his fingers. Then, to the absolute horror of the audience, I toss it off the stage.

The diamond ring hit the floor with a heavy landing, rolling away into the crowd.

Everyone is still looking at me with a stunned gaze.

Noah's face turned red with a mix of anger and humiliation at my final action. "What the hell are you doing?"

I smile calmly. "Ending this farce."

His fingers curl into a fists. "You'll regret this," he says, his voice low with barely controlled fury.

I move forward a bit, my voice is soft enough for only him to hear. "No, Noah. You will!"

The look in his eyes looks murderous.

I turn on my heels, descending the stage as the murmur grows into chaos.

My adoptive mother drags my wrist from the crowd. Her face darkens with barely concealed rage. "Celeste, what in heaven's sake are you doing?"

I turn to face my so-called family because Dad stands beside her. "I'm making my choice. My own choice."

I smile and take my hands off her grip. This is just the beginning.. mother. I mutter to myself.

Just then my phone buzz, I guess it's the call I have waited for. My purse makes a soft click sound while I try to open it. I bring my phone out and glance at the screen. I recognize the number.

I swipe the receive button.

The voice is low and efficient from the other end. "The information you requested is ready, ma'am. Want me to send it over?"

I arch a brow and smile. "Good, I'll handle it from here; just send it over."

I tap the end button and slide the phone into my purse;

I push the door and catwalk out of the hall, smiling.

I can feel their eyes on my back, Estina's, Noah's, Sophia's... each of them choking on the spectacle I leave them with.

The girl they plan to bury has just buried them instead, and this is just the beginning. I say with a smile on my lips and a fire in my spine.

My driver, Mason, is already waiting by the black SUV parked at the curb. He opens the door without a word, his expression blank as usual, but I catch the flicker of approval in his eyes.

As I slid into the leather seat, I felt my phone buzz again in my purse. The message has arrived; I guess everything is set. I swipe upwards and tap the message to read the content.

"The house is ready, ma'am; the location is Secured. The Keycard is in the glove box... Below is the attached file of Mr Damien Cross."

Perfect... I mutter.

I tap on the attachment, scanning the beginning of the file with sharp eyes. Damien Cross is elusive, brilliant, and ruthless.

This is exactly the man I need on my side if I am going to take down the Harringtons, the Lancasters, and every viper who thought they could use me as a pawn.

But that will come later.

Right now, I need a place that isn't clustered with betrayals. I exhale calmly and relax my back perfectly.

"Drive," I say to Mason. "Take me to the apartment."

He nods with no questions asked and no hesitation. That's why I paid him well; he comes highly recommended by their agency, and I trust him with my life since he doesn't know who I am and he can't be cornered by my so-called family. Our meeting is strictly confidential.

The building is built away in a quiet upscale neighborhood in the heart of the city, discreet enough for privacy and luxurious enough for comfort. The kind of place the press won't think to look for a humiliated heiress. Or so they thought.

We pull up into the underground parking lot. The moment I step out, the cold air bites into my skin, but I welcome it. It reminds me I'm alive.

I retrieve the keycard from the glovebox and made my way to the private elevator, alone.

As the elevator ascended, the picture of Damien's file continued to roll through my mind like a reel of unfinished memories.

I haven't seen him in years since we met at the inauguration party of an elite friend, just whispers of his name in powerful circles. People say he is dangerous.... well... I will be the woman to tame that danger or match it.

The elevator dinges softly, and the doors open to a spacious penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows, cool modern furnishings, and a subtle scent of lavender filling in the air. It is sterile and clean. All this space of quiet and peace is mine now.

I walk in, dropped my purse on the table, and exhale slowly and deeply.

The adrenaline begins to fade, and the ache starts.

I'm walking away from everything, everything they use to control me. The Lancaster name, the fake affection, the hollow love. But now, stripped of the facade, I stand alone, finally making my decision.

I fall onto the couch, pulling my legs to my chest. For a moment, the silence returns, but it is heavier now.

It presses against my ribcage, reminding me of what I have lost and what I will never have back.

A flash of Noah's face when I said "No." The way his eyes widened, the confusion crumpling his perfect mask.

The look on Sophia's face was pale and shaking.

I had stolen the script out of their hands, and now I am rewriting the play.

But even so... my heart isn't made of steel just yet.

It ache, not for them, but for the version of myself who had once believed in their love.

That girl is dead now.

I let her go tonight.

Clarissa's POV

I smile with a poise face that I have practiced over decades in front of a camera. I raise my chin high, my expression calm, my hands delicately hold the front of my designer gown... I look every inch the gracious matriarch of high society.

Applause still echoes faintly in the grand banquet hall, though the spotlight has already turned dim, and the string quartet falters awkwardly to a stop.

But inside of me, I'm burning with rage.

Celeste had left just like that.

No explanations, no apologies for this useless act...

She just humiliated Noah, my Noah in front of the media, shareholders, sponsors, and every socialite with influence.

The engagement banquet that I have carefully planned to secure alliances and investments, has become a public disaster. And Celeste had driven off like the princess of her own rebellion, leaving behind shattered expectations and stunned silence.

My lips curl as if I'm trying to suppress a cough. In truth... I'm trying so hard to swallow a scream.

What the hell just happened?

"She... she didn't mean it," William mutters beside me his voice cracking like old paint. "Maybe it's a misunderstanding."

I didn't dignify that as a response.

I gaze around the room, scanning it like a hawk hunting for prey. Reporters whisper excitedly near the champagne table.

Several were already typing on their phones, tweeting headlines, gossip columns... more like they are racing to be the first to deliver the scandal.

Guests shift awkwardly, some leaving early with murmuring excuses, others watching me with polite pity. Pity!!!

No one dares approach me, not yet. Not while my eyes burn like they do now.

Noah stands at the center of it all, looking daze and furious. His hand is still half-lifted from where he'd held the ring box. The box lay on the floor, forgotten like trash. He isn't speaking or even blinking.

My heels click with military precision as I stride towards him.

"Noah," I call with a low and tight voice. "Stand up straight. Don't look like a wounded dog."

His head jerks toward me. "She humiliated me."

Yes, you fool. And by extension, me... I didn't say it aloud. The boy is already unraveling.

"Pull yourself together," I hiss. "This isn't the end unless you make it look like one. We can still control the narrative, an emotional misunderstanding, stage fright, and nerves. You let the press spin it for too long and it'll be treason. Do you hear me?"

His face twisted. "You said she loves me. That she wouldn't-"

"Yes!! I said so, and she was obedient, too." my voice cracks like a whip. "I raised her to be."

Noah recoil slightly but I didn't care.

I turn sharply and gesture to my assistant. "Clear the stage. Get PR on standby. Tell the press there's been a sudden illness... No, better, an emotional breakdown. Say she's been overworked. Distract them with something."

"Yes, ma'am."

As my assistant rushes off, I press a hand to my temple, pretending to massage away a headache.

In reality, I'm recalculating every step, every angle.

Celeste had deviated from the script. Not just deviated, she'd torched it. That wasn't a spur-of-the-moment tantrum. No. That was a strike.

A declaration of something.

But... why now? Everything has been arranged. Celeste knew what was expected of her. She had been compliant, submissive, in fact, everything I had molded her to be. The perfect pawn!!! A grateful orphan turned into a glittering heiress. She owes everything to the Lancasters.

As she should.

My nails dig into my palm.

And she dared to walk out? Celeste of yesterday? Unbelievable.

Suddenly, my memory goes back, Celeste's expression on that stage was cold and composed. Not a tear in sight. Not even anger, it felt more like .... power and no fear.

My heart thuds once and heavily.

"Where did she go?" I snap at a nearby guard. "Track her. I want her back at the estate within the hour."

"We-we tried, madam. Her driver seems professional... we couldn't get a location. She ordered him directly."

"She ordered-?" I catch myself. Take a sharp breath. My voice lowered to a blade this time. "Then find the damn car. GPS, cameras. Do your damn job, or don't bother coming back."

The guard pales and rushes off.

I'm just confused about what to do now... I turn around scanning for Sophia. The girl stands by the dessert table, her usual sparkle full, and then our eyes meet.

Sophia hurries over, her eyes wide and breathy confusion. "Aunt Clarissa, I --- I don't know what happened. I tried to talk to her before the event, but I couldn't because I noticed the way she was responding to me."

I narrow my eyes. "You said she suspected nothing?"

"She didn't. I swear. I checked her calls, her messages, before this evening while she was prepping, nothing as usual."

I grab Sophia by the wrist, nails digging in. "Then tell me, why did she look at me like she knew something?"

Sophia's lips tremble. "Maybe... maybe someone told her something? Or did she overhear something?"

My hand drops. I turn away from Sophia in disgust.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Celeste had looked at me with contempt.

As if... That's not possible

I had seen that look once before. Years ago. The day Celeste's mother had died-mysteriously, quietly, in a hospital no one had access to but the Lancasters. Celeste had been too young to remember. Too broken to question. She had cried in my arms like a wounded bird.

And now she stared at me like a hunter tracking prey.

Could it be...? No. Impossible.

My throat dries instantly. A flicker of fear passes through me.

But I dismiss it.

No. This is just a tantrum. A rebellion. Celeste might be angry; perhaps she discovered a secret or two about Noah's fling or the reason she's been married off to the Harrington.

But she doesn't know the full truth. She can't, not unless someone told her. But who? William? Never. Sophia? That girl is too dumb to plot. Noah?

I glance at him, still trembling, still staring at the place Celeste had stood.

No. He is too consumed by pride and failure to be strategic.

I just shake my head at the thought and take a glass of champagne.

She's just misbehaving as a young girl she will come around.

I turn to my husband William. "I think we need to freeze her accounts," I say, sipping my champagne with brittle calmness. "She'll crawl back soon enough."

But as I lower the glass, that look, her eyes, too calm won't leave my mind.

And for the first time in twenty years, I wonder if I've just created my own worst enemy.

Sophia's POV

I just stood frozen near the dessert table, the chill glass of champagne in my hand slowly warming up against my clenched fingers.

Worse off, Aunt Estina can't stop looking at me like I had a hand in the humiliation; I just have to hurry over to her and explain what I know because Madam Lancaster can be something else.

The way she grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin, seemed like she believed I knew something. She doesn't know I'm as blind as she.

Immediately, she turns and leaves; I hold my hand, trying to relieve my wrist from the pain.

I stare at the ballroom stage where, just a moment ago, Celeste had detonated a bomb with nothing more than a few cold, precise words.

"I am not shy! I simply don't want to marry you, Noah."

Those words echo again in my head, over and over like a cruel joke stuck on repeat.

The gasps, the stunned silence, the sound of the ring box dropping to the floor... It's all a blur now, like a dream turning into a nightmare I can't wake up from.

She actually did it. Celeste?? Walking away?

Walking away from the spotlight, from Noah especially. Wow! This is the life that should have been mine in the first place.

But.... Not like this. My throat burns with disbelief and fury, my lips part open but nothing comes out, not even a whisper.

It's not supposed to go like this.

And Noah... Noah!-is just standing there, stunned like a fool with the ring box still open, while Celeste walks away with a smirk that looks evil.

I'm supposed to be the happiest person now if things go according to plan, but of course not! That witch decides to destroy the perfect plan.

Simple, marry Noah and I stay close. The strains under pressure of marriage... I comfort Noah, the marriage cracks, and boom!! I step in either as the mistress or savior, whichever way the media prefers to put it.

Eventually, Celeste falls out, and I... I, Sophia, rise as Noah's wife, taking my place just beside him but above her.

But now... The plan is erased, I'm not even the footnote in the drama.

Celeste is supposed to be the stepping stone.

Not the executioner.

The thought only makes me want to go crazy and avoid throwing tantrums in front of the public eye; I storm out of the main hall, my heels clicking to the marble floor as I slide away into the side corridor, fury boiling in my chest.

I slam the restroom door behind me and lean over the sink, breathing hard and fighting the rising bile in my throat.

"Stupid arrogant Bitch." I spit the words like acid into the sink. My reflection stares back at me, flush, wide-eyed, exposed.

All these years of pretending. The smiles, the loyalty, the constant comparison. Celeste the elegant this, Celeste the kind that, Celeste the chosen, and Sophia... the accessory.

Rubbish!!!

Now... now Celeste had changed. That girl back there wasn't the soft, stupid creature I had grown up resenting. She was colder, sharper, and calculated.

My fingers tremble as I reach for my clutch. My phone buzzes... I look at the screen the message is coming from a Group Chat of mine: The Diamond Circle

"OMG did you SEE that???"

"Noah got REJECTED in front of 200 people!!"

"Was that planned? That felt rehearsed..."

"Celeste is savage. I love her now???"

I throw the phone into the wall. It cracks a spiderweb fracturing across the screen. Just like my carefully built image.

My breath hitch, not from sadness but from rage.

I thought I would have more time now. That Noah would keep Celeste in check.

And what was Noah doing right now? Sulking? Scrambling? Or-

I open my backup phone and call him.

"What the hell was that?" I hiss as soon as he picks up.

Silence.

Then Noah's voice was low and tight. "She played me... Us actually. I don't know how or what is happening but I feel like she knows something-"

"What do you mean she knows something? She knows about your affairs? You idiot! How did she know about that? Moreover, I warned you... You were barely discreet!" I pace like a caged animal.

"I told you to keep her blind. You were supposed to propose, not hand her a public stage to crucify you!"

Noah growls. "Don't pin this on me. She seems different, I noticed something in her voice while I called her last night though I ignored it cause I felt it might be anxiety towards the wedding preparation, I didn't know she had other plans"

"You're panicking," I snap. "You're making excuses."

"I'm telling you something's changed. That wasn't the same Celeste. Her eyes..." he trails off. "She looked like she was watching her prey."

I paused, a chill running down my spine.

I had seen it too.

Celeste had looked at Noah, not with heartbreak or sorrow but with amusement. As if she was the one holding the knife now.

Something has shifted truly.

Was it possible? Did Celeste... know?

No! She couldn't. She wasn't supposed to.

But the way she'd walked away, the subtle nod to Noah, the smug face, it was too exact. Too rehearsed and perfect.

"She knows," I finally whisper in disbelief.

Noah went silent.

I rub my temple, panic curling in my throat like smoke. If Celeste knew about our betrayal, about the pretense, then this wasn't just about a broken engagement.

It was war.

"We need to control this," I say quickly. "Damage control. I'll handle the society circle. You handle her, talk to her, remind her of who she used to be. Make her doubt herself. Make her feel alone again."

"Are you sure that will work?" Noah asks darkly.

I went still.

"What? Of course, it will work."

My pulse quickens after saying that, not sure of what the results will be.

Celeste can't win.

Because if Celeste wins, then everything I, Sophia Raynes, have fought for... The position, the influence... My future generally will burn.

And I refuse to get burned. So I will just pretend this never happened and find Celeste so I can continue my good act towards her, I need to know what's happening.

I fix my hair in the mirror with trembling hands, reapplying my lipstick like war paint. Then I emerge from the restroom, the noise of the banquet is still buzzing behind the walls, but I won't return to that party.

I walk straight out of the front doors and into the night.

I have got work to do.