From Jilted Fiancée to President's Enforcer

The champagne flute felt colder than the ballroom air at my lavish engagement party to Senator Ethan Prescott, D.C.'s golden boy. In my first life, this night had been a triumph. But tonight, Isabella Vance, Ethan' s mistress, brazenly crashed the party, heavily pregnant and dramatically announcing, "Ethan, this baby is yours." Chaos swallowed the room; cameras flashed, but I felt a chilling calm. In my previous life, this betrayal had led to my career' s ruin, a faked scandal, and a lonely "accident" – Ethan and Izzy' s masterpiece of destruction. Back then, I was broken; now, I simply placed my flute down and announced, clear-eyed and cold, "Our engagement is over." They continued their facade, building a new narrative and trying to publicly shame me at a White House State Dinner. Ethan mocked me, Izzy sneered at my simple dress, and their cronies tried to have me escorted out, believing I was a pathetic ghost from their past. They thought I was weak, a broken woman clinging to the fringes of their brilliant new lives. Every condescending word, every dismissive glance, was a fresh wound, a reminder of the injustice that had cost me everything. Did they truly think I'd just vanish? My heart, once shattered, was now a block of ice, focused solely on retribution. This time, I was no one's pawn. Just as they tried to completely discredit me, President Thompson himself appeared, announcing my true status as his "most trusted advisor," shielding me with the full weight of his office. My father's legacy, my own history saving the President's life, suddenly became my indisputable shield and sword. The real game had just begun.