Chapter 4 THE DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

On a drizzly afternoon, Vivienne wandered into a bookstore that smelled of leather and forgotten dreams.

She wasn't looking for anything. Just killing time. Trying to feel human.

"Looking for something specific?" the clerk asked, a graying man with a cane and a worn suit that somehow still managed to look elegant.

"No," she said. "Just browsing."

He gave her a long look. The kind that made her spine straighten. "You don't strike me as someone who does anything just for fun."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

He smiled, gently. "You've lost something."

Her throat tightened.

"Come," he said. "I want to show you something."

She followed him to the back, past shelves of rare texts and dusty tomes, until he stopped in front of a small reading nook. There sat a man in a tailored charcoal coat, flipping through a book on vintage marketing campaigns.

He glanced up-and their eyes met.

Sharp. Curious. Calculating.

Vivienne didn't know it yet, but this man would change everything.

His name was Sebastian Ward.

Investor. Strategist. Master of second chances.

"I know who you are," he said, setting the book down.

Vivienne froze.

"I'm not interested in gossip," he continued. "I'm interested in revenge."

She laughed-hollow and tired. "You have the wrong woman."

"I don't think I do."

She studied him. "Why would you help me?"

Sebastian smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Because I hate men like your ex-husband. And because I know you're not broken. Just buried."

Her pulse quickened.

He slid a card across the table.

W Industries – Discretion. Strategy. Legacy.

"I'm not offering you charity," he said. "I'm offering you a deal. You want power again? Respect? Control? I can help you build something that makes Julian Cross obsolete."

She looked at the card, then at him.

"And in return?"

"When the time comes," he said, "you'll help me take something back too."

No promises. No paperwork. Just a quiet agreement between two ghosts-each haunted by something different.

She pocketed the card.

"I'll think about it."

"You'll say yes," he said with certainty.

And deep down-despite everything-Vivienne knew he was right.

That night, in the cramped flat above a laundromat, she stared at herself in the mirror.

Vivienne Hartley Cross was gone.

But someone else was waiting beneath the ash and ruin.

Someone sharper. Louder. Unforgiving.

She opened her notebook and scribbled her new name beneath the title:

Eva Lark

And below that:

"Make them forget she ever bled."

**********

Vivienne didn't sleep that night.

The card Sebastian Ward had given her felt like it burned a hole through her jacket pocket. She kept reaching for it, thumbing its matte edges, flipping it like a coin, as if it could reveal some hidden truth.

It didn't.

It just sat there-staring back with embossed confidence and veiled danger.

W Industries

Discretion. Strategy. Legacy.

Everything about him screamed power. Controlled. Silent. The kind of power that didn't need to announce itself.

She had met enough billionaires in her old life to know the type.

And yet-something about Sebastian felt different. He wasn't hungry for headlines. He was building something in the shadows.

Just like she now had to.

By morning, Vivienne was back in the bookstore.

Not because she trusted him.

But because she had nothing left to lose.

Sebastian was waiting in the same reading nook. This time, he didn't bother with small talk.

"You're ready," he said.

She hesitated. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"You're broke. Blacklisted. Homeless. And your face is still plastered across gossip columns with the words 'cheating liar' under it."

She flinched.

Sebastian leaned in. "You don't need a good idea, Vivienne. You need a rebirth."

Vivienne stared at him, steel rising in her spine. "Then make me someone new."

The deal was simple.

Sebastian would fund a new business venture under an alias. The press would never know her name. She'd have creative freedom, protection, and legal shields from any blowback. He would own a silent 30% stake. She'd retain full control of operations.

"You choose the industry," he said. "Something you know. Something your ex would never expect."

Vivienne didn't even have to think.

"Luxury branding."

It was her battlefield.

She had helped turn Cross Industries into an empire through her knack for image crafting, event execution, and client retention. While Julian shook hands and signed deals, she was the one orchestrating the illusion of class, strength, and stability behind it all.

Now? She would build something better.

"Under one condition," she said, voice firm.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I don't want to just compete with Cross Industries. I want to eclipse it."

His grin was razor-sharp. "Now we're speaking the same language."