Selene stepped back into the hall, but she wasn’t the same woman who had walked out minutes ago. Something inside her felt hollow. Her steps were slower, and her heart felt quiet.

The music, the spinning bodies, the laughter—they carried on without her, but Selene felt like an outsider to it all. She had no desire to join in. No desire to smile.

Her eyes found Damien. He was leaning against the wall, half-hidden beneath the dim lights, a flute of champagne in his hand, watching the room with a look that made him look older than his years. He drained the glass as if it were nothing, then raised his eyes when she reached him.

She took his sleeve. Her voice wobbled. “Please,” she said, blunt and raw. “Tell me who else knows. Please.”

“Selene, I didn’t send you that note to have you drown in it.” His voice was calm, but firm.

“Then why?” she whispered.

“So you can get revenge,” he said, not softening. The word struck odd and hard in the hum of the party. “Get your life back.”

Her breath hitched. “Why?”

“Because you deserve it,” he replied. His gaze was steady, unflinching. “Because the bastard deserves everything that’s coming.”

Selene’s breath caught, a surge of anger flooding through her. "What do you mean?"

"He’s been playing you for years. You think he’s the man you married, but he’s not. He’s nothing more than a coward."

Selene flinched.

“You’re worth more than this betrayal,” Damien pressed. “I’m giving you the means to take your life back. No one else will give you justice. You have to take it yourself.”

He started to leave, then paused and looked back. “It might sound strange, but one day you’ll realize no one loved you as much as I did.”

Selene froze. The words echoed something she had heard before—words her mother’s figure had always whispered right before disappearing. She had no time to unravel it.

The door opened. Cole walked in, smiling like nothing was wrong.

Selene steadied herself and met him halfway. “Where have you been?”

“Phone call,” Cole said casually, waving his phone. “Business.”

He kissed her cheek and walked off. Selene forced herself not to recoil.

Scarlett appeared moments later. Selene moved to her as well. “Where did you go?”

“The bathroom,” Scarlett said, rubbing her stomach. “The food didn’t sit well.”

“Really?” Selene asked, pretending to be concerned.

“Yeah,” Scarlett replied.

Selene offered a sympathetic nod, then turned away and found Eileen near the appetizers.

“Eileen, what does my schedule look like for tomorrow?” she asked.

“It’s fully packed with meetings and a few appearances,” Eileen replied.

“Fine. Hire a private investigator.” Selene said it plainly, no preamble.

Eileen blinked. “Ma’am?”

“Find someone available by tomorrow. Someone who can work on short notice.” Selene’s voice was flat, decisive. “I’ll email you what they need. This is classified. You know what that means”

Eileen hesitated only a second before nodding. “Yes, ma’am. Once I get home, I’ll begin searching immediately and send you the details.”

Selene walked back to Cole, her mind already on tomorrow.

It was well past eleven when the party finally ended. Selene and Cole drove home in silence, his hand lazily tangled with hers, the other on the steering wheel. He wore a bright, carefree smile, humming along to the radio in a way that made Selene hot with a small, dangerous fury, like the night had been perfect.

When they got home, Cole collapsed straight onto the bed, smiling to himself as sleep pulled him under. Selene was relieved he wasn’t in the mood to have sex. She couldn’t bear the thought of him touching her—not tonight.

But the relief quickly gave way to rage. Of course he didn’t want her. He had Scarlett. He was probably saving himself for her tomorrow. Maybe that filthy kiss was enough to keep him satisfied.

Her eyes drifted to his sleeping figure on the bed. He hadn’t even changed. Still in his suit pants and that crisp white shirt that once made her proud to call him hers.

Selene let out a long, defeated sigh.

“Maybe we should kill him,” a voice said.

She didn’t flinch. She turned, already knowing what she’d see. Her mother’s figure stood in the corner, watching Cole with cold eyes.

“If we plan it right,” the figure said, “we could get away with it.”

Her lips curled in disgust. “I told you, Selene. They walk over you because you’re weak. When will you wake up? Take Damien’s advice. No one loves you like we do.”

Selene’s chest tightened. She turned and walked into the bathroom, hoping the shower would drown out the voice.

But she was wrong.

The moment she stepped inside and turned on the water, silence fell, deafening and absolute. And in that silence, her mind turned on her.

It all came rushing back.

Memories crashed in, loud, proud, and ruthless. The note. Damien’s words. Cole’s speech. Scarlett’s laughter. The whispers. The party’s applause. Her mother’s figure screaming. More laughter. Always laughter.

It was too much. Her knees gave out on the wet tiles. She pressed her hands over her ears, blood dripping from her nose as the noise clawed at her skull.

“Please,” she whispered, over and over. “Please make it stop.”

More blood trickled from her nose, mixing with the water as it swirled toward the drain.

“Please. Please, just stop. I can’t take it anymore,” Selene cried.

And suddenly—it did.

The silence was heavy, crushing. But Selene didn’t move. Not after five minutes. Not after ten.

She stayed curled on the floor until her body trembled with cold, her skin was soaked to the bone, her fingers wrinkled and pale. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, felt like they could barely stay open. Thirty minutes passed before she dragged herself up, wrapped in a towel, and faced the mirror.

Then the figure appeared behind the glass, eyes glinting.

“You’re so pretty,” it murmured. “And he still cheated. You gave him everything. You helped her rise. And how did she repay you? She stabbed you in the back.”

Selene’s grip on the sink tightened. There was a pause, then a cruel smile from the figure.

“You gave him your heart, and he gave it to your best friend.”

The figure leaned closer through the glass, its voice now a whisper laced with rage.

“Come on, Selene. Make them pay.”