Chapter 2

The sun rose without warmth.

I stood at the floor to ceiling window in my bedroom, watching the golden light spill across the Zhao estate like a lie dressed in silk.

Everything looked the same.

The manicured hedges. The floral arch in the garden. The rows of champagne glasses being arranged for a wedding that would never happen.

But everything had changed.

I’d changed.

The woman who once dreamed of walking down that aisle had died on a cliffside, pushed by the man she loved and the friend she trusted. The one standing here now wasn’t mourning.

She was planning.

My eyes flicked to the bedside clock. 9:04 a.m.

Lucien Feng’s office was thirty minutes away. Just enough time to decide what to wear when meeting the man who could help destroy everything Ethan built.

Not white.

Definitely not white.

I chose a deep crimson silk blouse, high waisted black trousers, and a tailored coat. Minimal makeup. Bold lips. No softness. No hesitation.

I left the diamond engagement ring on my dresser without a second thought.

Downstairs, chaos had erupted.

My mother’s voice echoed from the foyer, furious and shrill. “Where are you going? We still need to draft a press statement.. Serena!”

I didn’t stop walking.

“I’m handling it,” I said coldly as I swept past.

She followed me, her heels tapping like gunfire across the marble. “You humiliated the family yesterday! Shredding your dress in front of the designer? Calling off the wedding with no explanation?”

I turned at the door and met her eyes. “Would you prefer I had married a man who was planning my murder?”

She flinched.

I didn’t wait for a response. The door shut behind me like a gavel slamming down.

................

Lucien Feng’s building loomed like a steel monolith against the skyline, black glass and sharp edges, cold and untouchable.

Perfect.

I stepped out of the car and entered through the private elevator as instructed. No security check. No assistant fussing with scheduling. Just a silent ascent to the top floor.

When the doors slid open, I was met by soft jazz, a wall of cityscape windows, and the man himself.

Lucien Feng stood behind a glass desk, dressed in a three piece charcoal suit. His dark hair was slicked back, his expression unreadable. His eyes, cold, cutting, swept over me like a scalpel.

He didn’t rise. “Miss Lin. You’re punctual. I like that.”

I walked forward, every step steady despite the jackhammer beating of my heart. “I figured if I was bold enough to call you, I should at least be on time.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Most people who call me with threats or offers are either liars… or desperate.”

I placed a slim folder on his desk. “I’m both.”

Lucien opened it, his gaze flicking over the contents. Financial inconsistencies. Offshore accounts. Projected losses disguised as false gains.

His brow lifted slightly. “Zhao Corp’s quarterly statements… compromised and cross referenced. Where did you get this?”

“I lived in that house for three years. I wasn’t blind, just too in love to connect the dots. Not anymore.”

He shut the folder, tapping his fingers once on the cover. “What do you want?”

“Your help,” I said. “To dismantle Ethan. Publicly. Financially. Personally.”

Lucien walked around the desk, slowly, like a predator circling prey, or an investor weighing risk.

“And in return?” he asked.

“I’ll work with you. Everything I know, every contact, every slip Ethan ever made, I’ll hand it over. You get his company. I get my revenge.”

Lucien stepped closer, now inches away.

His voice dropped lower. “Do you know what you’re asking for, Miss Lin? This isn’t a breakup. It’s war.”

I met his gaze. “He declared it when he let me fall.”

A long pause.

Then, for the first time, Lucien smiled, slow and dangerous.

“Very well,” he murmured. “You’re not the first woman who’s wanted revenge. But you might be the first with the spine to pull it off.”

He handed the folder back to me. “Meet me again tonight. 9 p.m. My private residence. We’ll discuss phase one.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why not here?”

He smirked. “Because war plans aren’t made in boardrooms. They’re made over whiskey and firelight.”

I took the folder, slid it back into my bag. “Fine. But don’t mistake me for someone you can toy with.”

His eyes gleamed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I walked out of Feng International with my head high and my hands steady.

The moment I stepped out of the building, my phone vibrated nonstop.

Call from: Ethan Zhao.

I declined it.

Voicemail from: Lila Chen.

Delete.

New messages: 27 unread.

I didn’t bother reading them.

I got into the backseat of my car and exhaled. For a moment, I let the silence wrap around me like armor. I was calm, calculated, in control.

Until the phone rang again.

Lila. Again.

I pressed accept, not because I wanted to hear her voice, but because I needed to know exactly how shallow she’d sink.

“Serena?” she breathed into the receiver like she’d just run a marathon. “Oh my god, are you okay?! I’ve been calling you all night. Everyone’s freaking out! Why are you ignoring me?”

“I think you know why,” I said coolly.

A beat of silence. Then her voice shifted, still sugary, but brittle underneath.

“Look, if this is about yesterday, I get it, you were probably stressed, emotional, or maybe having second thoughts. Cold feet! Totally normal. But cutting up your dress in front of the designer? Serena, do you even know how much that gown cost?”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You think this is about the dress?”

“I mean…” She gave a nervous laugh. “It wasn’t just lace and thread! That veil alone had twelve thousand in pearls! Your mom nearly fainted, and Ethan, he’s devastated. You could’ve just postponed the wedding instead of staging a what? A tantrum?”

A tantrum.

I could still see her at the edge of that cliff, arm wrapped around Ethan, looking down at me with pity.

I said nothing.

“You haven’t even told me what happened,” she continued, voice pitching higher. “You owe me that much. I was your maid of honor!”

I let out a quiet laugh. Cold and hollow.

“You really want to know why I canceled the wedding, Lila?”

“Yes!”

“Because I remembered who you really are.”

Silence.

Then her voice dropped, venom slipping through the cracks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you can keep the man and the money,” I said, my voice steel. “But when I’m done, you’ll wish I’d only ruined a wedding dress.”

I hung up.

Her call was immediately followed by another from Ethan.

This time, I let it go to voicemail.

His voice was tight, measured. “Serena, whatever this is, we can fix it. If someone’s feeding you lies, we need to talk. You don’t walk out of a ten million dollar wedding without consequences.”

I stared out the window, jaw clenched.

Consequences.

That was the word he used. Not “love.” Not “us.” Not even my name.

Just business.

Again.