Chapter 5 5

It has been four years.

Four years since Darla left. Since she walked away from everything she once knew, boarded that plane with nothing but heartbreak, regret, and a horrible past.

Now, she was back.

The moment she stepped off the plane, she felt the familiar uneasiness. The chill stung against her skin, but she welcomed it. She slowly took deep breaths.

Darla never thought she would return. Not after everything. Not after the way she left.

But she had to.

There were things she had left behind. Loose ends that needed tying. Ghosts that refused to rest. And now, she was finally ready to face them.

People often warned that revenge was dangerous-a poison that consumed its wielder just as much as its target. They spoke of it as if it was something to be feared, something to resist.

But what they never told you-what no one ever admitted-was how intoxicating it was.

The thrill.

The satisfaction of watching everything unfold exactly as planned.

For four years, Darla had watched. Waited. Kept her distance, but never lost sight of them. News articles, social media, whispered rumors-she absorbed it all. Every headline. Every movement. Every misstep.

She had followed the old adage well.

"Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer."

And now, the time had come, She didn't return for closure, She came for revenge.

The ride to the hotel was smooth. Darla barely paid attention to the towering skyline, the streets she had once known so well. Her fingers tapped idly against her thigh, her mind already elsewhere.

When the car pulled up to the Savare Hotel, she stepped out.

The building stood taller than she remembered. Bigger. Not the mid-size it once was.

The glass doors slid open before her, and the moment she entered, a man in a sleek black suit approached.

"Welcome to Savare Hotel," he greeted smoothly. "This way, ma'am."

She followed immediately. The lobby was breathtaking.

Golden chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, light across polished marble floors. The furniture-sleek, modern, and expensive, designed to show nothing but luxury.

Darla had seen beauty before.

She had walked the streets of New York, attended events in halls even grander than this. She had lived among the wealthy, the powerful.

Yet, this place-this specific place-stunned her.

"How may I assist you, ma'am?"

The receptionist's voice was smooth. Her smile was warm but distant, never quite reaching her eyes.

"One of your finest rooms." Darla said.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard. It didn't take long before the receptionist slid a key card across the counter.

"The best rooms are on our eleventh floor. Room 1508."

Darla took the card without a word, slipping it between her fingers as she turned away.

The elevator ride was silent.

She leaned against the cool railing, eyes flicking up to the panel of buttons. Twelve floors. Taller than she expected.

When the doors slid open, she followed the same suited man down a dimly lit hallway. The carpet muffled their steps, the scent of vanilla and roses lingering in the air.

At her door, she swiped the key card. A soft beep. A green light. The lock clicked open.

The suite was stunning-spacious, modern, an embodiment of quiet luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, lights twinkling like distant stars.

She didn't have time to admire the view, She tipped the man, before he nodded and stepped out.

The moment the door shut, she exhaled.

Her body was too weak to begin unpacking.

She simply moved to the bed and collapsed onto the soft mattress, sinking into the comfort.

***

Several hours has passed, Darla stand in front of the mirror.

She was wearing a sleek black dress which embraced her figure, smooth fabric clinging to her skin. The high slit stopped just at her thigh, revealing just enough to turn heads.

Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail-tight, flawless.

Against her collarbone rested a red pearl necklace, gleaming under the dim hotel lighting. The same bold red adorned the bag in her hand.

She looked powerful.

She needed to be powerful.

Tonight, was the NIGHT.

She stepped out of the hotel without a second thought, sliding into the waiting car.

Tonight, she would do what she came here to do.

In no time, she arrived at the Claus family mansion.

Even before she stepped out of the car, she could hear the music thumping from the garage. Laughter spilling out onto the driveway.

Of course, they were celebrating.

Darla stepped onto the property with ease, blending into the crowd. No one paid her a second glance.

They didn't know who she was.

But she knew them.

Her eyes scanned the room-watching, waiting-until she found them.

The spotlight landed on them. Roy and Esther.

Esther glowed in an elegant white floral dress, her laughter spilling out effortlessly as she raised her glass of wine. Her fingers, perfectly manicured, wrapped delicately around the stem. She looked happy.

Beside her stood Roy, her husband.

Dressed in a tailored brown suit, his hair trimmed shorter than she remembered. He looked older, more refined. But beneath it all, he was the same man. The same betrayer.

His attention wasn't even on his wife.

His eyes wandered. His hands gestured animatedly as he spoke to the men surrounding him, laughing at something meaningless.

It was their anniversary night, Four years, Four years of watching from a distance.

Tracking every move. Memorizing every detail.

Darla had planned this moment carefully. Every step, every encounter.

Tonight, the Claus family would know what it felt like to lose.

And she would be the one to deliver it.

The sharp clink of a spoon against glass silenced the room.

A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned toward the golden couple standing at the center of the celebration.

Roy Claus cleared his throat, lifting his champagne flute high, his voice carrying confidence.

"I would like to raise a toast," he announced, smiling. "To my lovely wife, Esther-who has stood by my side for four incredible years. Four years of love, of joy, and support. I could not ask for more."

The crowd murmured in approval, glasses poised in the air, ready to follow his lead.

Esther beamed, looping her arm through his, pressing herself closer. They looked perfect together.

Darla stood there watching them. She could help but laugh at how they created their act to look like the perfect couple.

Still, the disgust burned beneath her skin, a slow, intense fire.

And then-her gaze shifted.

Right in front of her was a glass tower.

A pyramid of delicate champagne glasses, stacked elegantly, twinkling under the golden lights.

Darla's fingers tightened around her red bag as she took a step forward.

She already knew her next move.

"Happy anniversary, my darling. And cheers."

Roy's voice dripped with the kind of arrogance that once made her skin crawl. He lifted his glass higher, flashing a warm smile.

The crowd echoed, glasses raised.

Then Darla made her move, One glass was all it took.

She reached down, fingers curling around the stem of a single glass at the base of the tower.

The entire structure collapsed.

A symphony of shattering glass filled the air, champagne cascading across the expensive table, spilling onto the polished floors.

she had every single person's attention.

A sea of eyes turned toward her. Some wide with shock, others narrowed in confusion, in suspicion.

Darla didn't flinch, it was exactly what she wanted.

Instead, she raised her own untouched champagne glass higher, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

"Happy anniversary." She spat with a smile.

She seemed to have gotten the attention of the couple.

Roy and Esther.

Their faces were that of shock.

Esther gripped her champagne flute so tightly her knuckles turned red. Roy stood stiff, his gaze locked onto Darla as if staring at a ghost from his past.

Darla tilted her head, letting her smirk deepen.

"Who would have thought you two would actually last four years together?" she mused, voice light, teasing. "Feels like just yesterday when you betrayed me and married her."

"I must applaud you, Roy. Really. Well done." She mocked.

Color drained from Roy's face.

Recognition sparked in his eyes. He took a slow step forward, scanning her features as if trying to be sure.

"Darla?" His voice softened.

Satisfaction curled in Darla's chest. Knowing that it took him a minute to recognize her.

And why would he?

She was no longer the woman he had left behind.

She had spent years becoming this version of herself.

"Pick up your jaw, Roy." She said as she moved towards them.

Walking right past him. Toward Esther.

Close enough to almost touch her. Close enough to see the slight tremor in her hands.

"So," Darla mused, her voice light, "where are the kids?"

There was a sharp inhale from Esther but no answer.

Her smile broadened as she looked at her, she knew the answer to her question, she had been watching them for four years to know that they had none.

They couldn't have any.

Four years of tracking them, watching them, reading between the lines of every interview, every empty response when the subject of children arose.

She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering into a soft whisper.

"Shocking, really. You, of all people, without kids? Considering how much you cared about sex, I would've thought you'd have a whole football team by now."

Esther's face now drained of color.

She took a half-step back, as if trying to put distance between them.

It didn't help.Darla followed.Closer.

Hovering just at the edge of her space.

She watched as the panic flickered across Esther's carefully composed expression.

Darla paused, basking in their misfortune.

She leaned down to Esther's ear and whispered, just loud enough for Roy to hear.

"You haven't told him the truth yet, have you?"

Esther stilled.

Every muscle in her body locked. It was barely a second. But it was enough.

Enough for Roy to notice.

His attention snapped to his wife-quick, searching, suspicion darkening his expression.

"Security!" Esther's yelled.

Before Darla could even turn, she felt it-a hand on her shoulder.

Heavy and Ready to drag her out.She didn't need to look.She didn't need to.

She gripped the guard's wrist, twisted it over her head-and flipped him onto the floor.

Hard.

She didn't spare him a second glance.She simply dusted off her dress.

And then, she looked up.

Straight into Roy's eyes and Esther's.

Drinking in their horror. Their shock. Their fear.Her lips curved into amusement.

"No one touches me." she said as a matter of fact.

"I hope you two last long together." she stated and then turned on her heel and walked away.