The next day at work, Ariel shuddered as she sank behind her desk, she had caught a cold from the lake. Her phone was soaked and she had no money to take a taxi home. Marie had given her warm clothes and wrapped her in a blanket when she got home.

But she had no time to brood over her problems. Her basement door swung open with a whoosh, she froze.

Her eyes were not playing tricks on her.

The girl really was here to share her basement. Her elegant red stilettos echoed against the floor as she strode in confidently, carrying a small box. She flashed a warm smile at the mesmerized Ariel, who couldn’t tear her gaze away from the tall glass of gorgeousness standing in her basement.

“Hi, I'm Joan.” She introduced herself. Walking to the empty table by the printer, she drops her stuff.

“You're probably wondering why I'm here.”

Ariel snapped out of her staring and smiled at the pretty Joan. She was drawn to how charismatic and extremely confident she was.

She had walked into the room like she owns it.

Flashing a smile, she introduced herself.

“Celine Bryce.”

“Nice to meet you Celine, you're so hot.”

She complimented the confused Ariel. Many guys and girls had called her pretty several times, but she found it hard to believe them. Taking compliments was not really her thing. Her self esteem had always been fragile for as long as she could remember.

Surviving the jaws of death was not enough to change that overnight.

Only her desire for revenge had been fueled.

“I am.” Ariel snapped out of her staring and replied.

“I'm an intern, but I refused to suck up to my seniors like that snorting short pig.”

Ariel chuckled.

That was a cruel description for Ivory.

“Forgive me for being too forward, but you smile like you're not supposed to.”

Joan laid out her mini seconds observation.

“I do?.”

“Yeah, like you're afraid. Who are you scared of?.”

Ariel laughs awkwardly as the chatty Joan comes close to her table.

“Where did you get these suits?.” She asked the stunned Ariel as her eyes rummaged the thrift suit.

“I bought them.”

“No offense, honey, but they’re not doing your beauty any justice.”

“I know, but I'm saving up my earnings for something very important.”

“Alright, let's go shopping tomorrow, we'll visit a spa and a club when we're done. It'll be just us, what do you say? Just two young girls having fun” Joan offered.

“That’ll be nice. But I don't have any money. I took five months advance.”

Bills on me.”

Ariel was stunned into silence. When she finally found her voice, she muttered, “Okay… sure.”

“Cool, we have a date tomorrow, let's change these beauty shielding clothes.” She points at Ariel's faded thrift jacket. Ever since she got moved to the West mansion, Axel had totally erased her from his memory—apart from the time Gregory had handed her a strange looking wine. Axel was never around. Seeing Bianca happy on TV was a violent trigger. But here she was, stuck and helpless in her “husband's” company basement. Thoughts of how she could avenge herself consumed her each day. Axel could do it with a snap of his finger, but with the deep loathing he had for her, he would never.

Khan’s hospital bills was almost complete, she was going to get the rest by the end of the month. When that was done, she could go after Damien and Bianca and bite them hard where it hurts.

She glanced at Joan.

Who was this girl? And why was she trying so hard to get close to her? Joan didn’t belong in that basement. Neither did she.

Ariel had made up her mind; once her internship was done, she’d leave Axel’s company for good. She’d go back to college and chase the degree she’d tossed in the wind for Bianca’s sake.

Joan picked up some of the stacked files from Ariel’s desk and carried them back to hers, diving into work. Ariel turned back to the half-pile in front of her.

The next day, Ariel stepped out in a mismatched, tacky dress. A red Ford Mustang screeched to a halt on the tarred road where they had planned to meet.

Joan stepped out and shut the door behind her. Ariel could only gape.

She wore red stilettos and a fitted crimson dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her oversized dark shades screamed boss energy, and her red lipstick added a striking finish. Victoria was a breath of confidence.

“You look great.” Ariel complimented awkwardly. “Thank you.” She takes in Ariel's outfit with her eyes.

“This is bad honey. But don't worry, after our little date all your ex’s will come crawling back.”

The mention of “exes” wiped every smile off Ariel's face as memories of Damien flooded her head. He was her first love. But Joan was too carried away to notice. From all Ariel had observed so far, Victoria was filthy rich. Why on earth was she working a 9–5.

With no questions, Ariel got in the car.

Their first stop was the biggest mall in the city. Joan led Ariel to the dress section and made her try out different clothes. They were all stunning, Ariel's body was a live mannequin. “We'll take all.” She announced, pulling out her platinum black card. The dresses were packed and handed over to Ariel.

Ariel's jaw dropped in surprise. Bianca, her childhood best friend, had never done this for her. All she had ever received from Bianca were worn out hand me downs.

Ariel and Joan were walking out of the mall when Victoria accidentally bumps into a gentleman. “Oh my God I'm so sorry.” She apologizes politely. “It's fine.” The man replied, bending to pick his fallen glasses. He and Ariel froze when he looked up.

Ariel's eyes widened in recognition, as well as his.

“Mrs Wilbury, what a pleasant surprise.” He said.

“You're married?!!!.” Joan asked Ariel in shock.

“To my best friend.” Dean replied proudly, straightening himself with a smug grin on his face.

“Your best friend does not deserve a woman, definitely not this gorgeous girl.” Joan replied defiantly.

“He's the nicest person on earth, he just hates bad people.”

“You're unbelievable.” She scoffed

Ariel felt the bickering was not coming to an end any time soon, she knew she had to step in. “It's fine Joan, it's not a real marriage anyway.”

Dean's eyebrows creased in a frown.”This is a breach of the ninth clause in your marriage contract Mrs Wilbury. I'm sure you never took your time to read it.” Dean reminded her. Ariel looked at him hard like she was trying to stare daggers into his skin. His terrifying stare had made her sign the contract without reading. He was part of the reason she was in this mess in the first place. Currently, she was clueless about her marriage terms with Axel.

“Tell your friend I said I hope he gets constant nightmares from now on. I'll give him the first one by finding a real man for his fake wife.”

Joan said to the dumbfounded Dean. She grabbed Ariel by the wrist and pulled her away. Ariel was stunned—no one had ever stood up for her before. It felt... good.

Their next stop was a buffet. They stuffed themselves with food and laughed at each other’s silly jokes

Ariel was having the time of her life. Joan, too. She was trying to get over her pain. She had longed for a friendship like this—honest, effortless, free. She could tell Ariel had a gentle soul. Maybe she was trying to heal from something too.

Maybe a friend was the therapy she needed.

After their little banquet, they made their way to the spa. It was the most relaxing massage Ariel had ever had. It was better than having sex with Damien.

Wrapped in white robes and towels, they enjoyed a few sips of wine and light hearted conversations on the balcony before they left.

Joan led Ariel to a beauty salon to have a hair redo. Ariel sat before the mirror anxiously as the beautician’s fingers swiped past styles on the tab.

“This one, it suits her.” Joan who had been watching points at a gorgeous body wave style. Ariel peered at the screen. She was right, a body wave was going to look insanely mind blowing on her.

In an hour, the stylist had turned her straight black hair into voluminous waves. Joan gasped in adoration. The ladies in the salon were wowed.

“Oh my God you look so stunning.” Joan managed to say.

“Thank you.” Ariel blushed.

She had made up her mind. She had to be confident and bold if she was ever going to get revenge, and that was one thing she was going to learn from Joan.

When they left the salon, Joan made Ariel wear a black sexy sequin dress that accentuated her petite hourglass curves. She looked ravishing, nearly unrecognizable.

“Whoever fumbled you is silently going through something.” Joan teased her. They both laughed.

“Next stop, the club. We're going to shut down the dance floor.” She throws her hands in the air and sways her hips like a goofy bird. Ariel laughed. Clubbing was fun, she had missed it. She was going to have fun, but she never expected to run into him, the man of her nightmares.