The ballroom glittered like a dream built on ambition and sleepless nights.

Golden chandeliers hung low, their crystal arms scattering warm light across velvet drapes and mirrored walls. Everywhere I looked, the room pulsed with life, business moguls, investors, politicians, socialites, all gathered under one roof, all whispering my name.

Nova West.

Not Mrs. Langston. Not the woman behind a man’s success.

Just me.

I stood near the edge of the room, champagne glass in hand, watching as servers ...