REJECTED BY MISTAKE, DESIRED BY POWER

"Sign it, Elena."

His voice was cold. Flat. As if the last three years of marriage meant nothing.

Elena Hart stared at the divorce papers, her fingers trembling around the pen. Not from heartbreak. Not anymore. That stage had passed weeks ago - right after she caught him in their marital bed with Cassandra Vale, her former best friend.

She looked up at her husband - no, soon-to-be ex-husband - Adrian Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire who once vowed to protect her.

He hadn't even flinched when she walked in that night.

Now, his perfect suit was crisp, his jaw clean-shaven, and his eyes empty of any warmth she once knew.

"You've made your choice," she said softly.

He didn't answer.

She set the pen down. "You really believe I had something to do with your mother's death, don't you?"

Adrian's face darkened. "She warned me about you. Right before the crash."

Elena swallowed the scream building in her throat.

His mother's death had been an accident. She'd said it a hundred times. But Cassandra had planted doubt. Twisted facts. And Adrian, the man who used to hold her like she was his world, now looked at her like she was a mistake he couldn't wait to erase.

"You're not the woman I thought I married," he muttered.

Her gaze turned cold. "No. I'm not. That woman would've begged you to stay."

She signed the papers in silence.

Adrian didn't even blink.

He stood, picked up the documents, and left the room without looking back.

And just like that... it was over.

THREE YEARS LATER

The Gala That Changed Everything

The Black Diamond Gala was the crown jewel of New York's elite social scene. Press, power, politics, and scandal - all wrapped up in diamonds and champagne.

And tonight, Adrian Blackwood would be honored as the city's "Man of the Year."

He didn't know she was coming.

Elena stepped out of the limo, cloaked in a deep red velvet gown that hugged every curve - a gown she would've never worn back then.

People gasped. Cameras clicked.

Whispers filled the air like static.

"Is that... Elena Hart?"

"Didn't she die in that crash three years ago?"

She smiled.

Let them talk.

Let them wonder how the discarded wife had returned more beautiful, more dangerous, more powerful than ever.

Let Adrian see what he threw away.

She crossed the marble foyer and moved through the crowd with quiet grace. Every eye turned to her, but she was focused on only one thing.

And there he was.

Adrian.

He froze when he saw her.

Like he'd seen a ghost.

"Elena?" he breathed.

She tilted her head, expression unreadable.

"Good evening, Mr. Blackwood. I hope I'm not interrupting."

Cassandra clung to his arm, suddenly pale.

Elena's gaze flicked to her, then back to Adrian.

"Don't worry. I didn't come to steal your thunder."

She stepped closer.

"I came to take back what's mine."