Zara's heels clicked with precision against the polished marble floors of Vogue Noir's headquarters. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
The world had seen her shattered. Now, it would see her shine.
She walked through the lobby like a woman reborn—power in her posture, vengeance in her stride, and elegance sharp enough to draw blood. The receptionist didn't need to ask who she was. Everyone knew her name now.
> "Zara Blake. Conference Room B. They're waiting for you."
She smiled. Not sweet. Sharp.
> "Let them."
---
Back at the Knight mansion, Aiden stood at the edge of his private gym, fists bruised, breath ragged. He hadn't spoken to anyone in hours. Not since the news broke that Zara's fashion label was trending worldwide.
Her face was everywhere.
Not as his fiancée. Not as his anything.
Just as her.
And somehow, that hurt more.
---
Eliana opened the door to Zara's apartment, carrying two bags of groceries and a bottle of non-alcoholic wine.
> "I come bearing emotional support carbs."
Zara grinned from the kitchen. "If you brought anything gluten-free, I'm disowning you."
Eliana held up a baguette. "Girl, please."
They laughed. Really laughed. It wasn't the broken kind that tried to cover pain — it was the kind that dared to believe healing was possible.
> "You're actually glowing," Eliana said, unpacking apples.
> "That's not glow. That's spite."
> "Spite looks good on you."
Zara tossed her a strawberry. "That's because I've stopped waiting for someone else to choose me."
---
Across town, Camille stormed into the sleek penthouse of Madison Hale.
The photographer looked up from her editing suite, expression flat. "You're early."
> "You told me the story would stay between us." Camille's voice was sharp.
> "And it will. Until it doesn't serve me anymore."
Camille's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
Madison smirked. "Same as always. Leverage. Chaos. Attention."
She turned her screen around. A photo of Aiden—shirtless, furious, heartbroken. A snapshot Madison had taken through Knight Corp's private surveillance leak.
> "This will hit harder than the last drop."
Camille's blood ran cold. "You can't publish that."
> "I can. I will. Unless…"
Madison leaned back, sipping her wine.
> "Unless you make sure Zara never finds out where the first photo came from."
---
Later that night, Zara sat on her balcony, legs tucked beneath her, a blanket around her shoulders. Chloe West joined her with two mugs of cocoa.
> "You know I'd kill for you, right?" Chloe said.
> "I know," Zara replied softly. "But I don't want blood. I want peace."
> "Peace looks good on you. But revenge makes a better dress."
Zara smiled, sipping her cocoa.
> "Then I guess I'll wear both."
And as the stars blinked down over the city, one thing was certain—
Zara Blake wasn't just surviving.
She was building an empire from the ashes.
And Aiden Knight?
He wasn't done paying for his sins.
Not even close.
---
The next morning, the headlines were merciless.
> "From Scandal to Spotlight: Zara Blake's Brand Signs Global Deal with Vogue Noir."
"Knight Corp Faces PR Nightmare After Viral Photo Controversy."
"Zara Blake Speaks for Heartbroken Women Everywhere: 'Lesson Learned. Goodbye.'"
Aiden read every article.
Every comment.
Every goddamn caption that painted her as the phoenix and him as the ash.
And she deserved it. All of it.
But what gnawed at his chest wasn't the press.
It was knowing she hadn't blocked his number.
She just hadn't used it.
He stared at his screen, thumb hovering over her contact.
And didn't call.
Because what could he possibly say that wouldn't sound like too little, too late?
---
Zara stood before the full-length mirror in her boutique office, adjusting the hem of a custom navy blazer from her upcoming launch collection. It was powerful, bold, and unapologetically hers.
Chloe perched on the desk behind her, filing her nails.
> "So. When are we launching this vengeance line of yours?"
Zara chuckled. "Next Friday. Under the label 'Blake.' No frills. Just truth."
> "Love it. Want it. Will model for it in exchange for tequila and validation."
Zara turned, eyes twinkling. "You're hired."
Then her phone buzzed.
A message.
From an unknown number.
She opened it cautiously.
> You looked beautiful today. Fierce. Untouchable.
— A
Zara's breath caught, just for a second.
Chloe noticed. "Him?"
Zara locked the phone and placed it face down.
> "Just a ghost."
---
Meanwhile…
Eliana was in her psychology class at university when she got the notification on her student portal: Internship placement confirmed — Knight Corp. PR & Ethics Division.
Her brows lifted. "Seriously?"
She tapped her phone.
Zara: "You won't believe this."
Zara: "Knight Corp. internship."
Zara: "Should I reject it?"
Zara's reply came fast.
> "No. Accept it."
"We don't run from wolves, El."
"We learn how they hunt."
---
In his penthouse, Aiden watched as his boardroom turned colder.
Clients were backing out. Partnerships were "reevaluating." And Camille? Nowhere to be found since their last fallout.
He didn't go after her.
She wasn't his concern anymore.
Only Zara.
Only… the wreckage he caused in the one place that had finally felt like home.
---
That night, Zara stood on the rooftop of the Vogue Noir launch venue. Her design team bustled around behind her. Lights. Racks. Interviews. Power.
But she… she was still.
Watching the skyline.
Watching the place where his tower blinked in the distance.
> "You okay?" Chloe asked softly.
> "Yeah," Zara whispered. "I just wonder if he's looking at the same sky."
Chloe slid an arm around her shoulder.
> "Let him look. You've already become the star."
---
And far across the city…
In the dark of Aiden's apartment…
He was looking at the sky.
Wondering if somewhere…
She could feel it, too.
---