đ« Geneva, Switzerland â Six Weeks Later
Snow dusted the glass facade of the Helix International Tower, reflecting a pale winter sun. From the sixty-third floor, the world looked clean. Controlled. Cold.
Just how Selene Kai liked it.
She sat at the head of a conference table made of black obsidian, flanked by board members whose suits cost more than some countries' defense budgets. Twelve men. One woman â Evelyn Rourke. And now, the thirteenth seat belonged to Selene.
Her presence was no longer questioned. It was curated.
The air was dry, expectant. Evelyn leaned forward, her French manicure tapping on the agenda.
"Shall we proceed with the vote?" she asked, voice as smooth as aged scotch.
Selene didn't look up. She was reviewing a clause in the merger document. A silence stretched.
Finally, she set down her pen and lifted her gaze.
"You all read the clause on revenue-sharing during hostile takeovers, correct?" she said evenly.
A few murmured yeses. One man, Dutch and older, cleared his throat. "We assumed it would be standard."
Selene arched an eyebrow. "You assumed wrong. Read it again."
They did. The room shifted. One executive's jaw tightened.
"This⊠this protects your stake during a crash," another muttered.
"Yes," Selene said. "Because I engineered the clause to withstand crashes."
Evelyn smiled like a lioness watching a pup hunt. "Gentlemen, do you have any other concerns?"
None dared raise a hand.
"All in favor?"
Twelve hands.
Evelyn turned to Selene. "And your final word, Ms. Kai?"
Selene closed the folder. "Approved."
And just like that, the merger passed â folding five conglomerates into one unified empire: Helix International Holdings.
She didn't smile. Queens didn't need to.
đ§ The New Selene
Later, as they exited the boardroom, Evelyn offered her a glass of celebratory champagne.
"You handled them beautifully."
"I didn't handle them. I erased their doubts."
Evelyn chuckled. "You've changed."
"No," Selene said, adjusting her coat. "I've shed what was useless."
They stepped into a private elevator. The descent was quiet. Evelyn regarded her with curiosity.
"You haven't asked about Julian."
Selene's gaze remained fixed on the descending floors. "He made his choice."
"You left him standing at the gala."
"I gave him the space he needed," Selene replied. "And the silence I needed."
"Cold, even for you."
Selene's voice was soft but dangerous. "There's no room for warmth at the top."
đ New York City â CraneCorp
Julian Crane walked through the skeleton of what once was his legacy.
The office hadn't changed much, but it felt different. The people, the rhythm, the loyalty â all redirected. Toward her.
Selene's mark was everywhere: sleeker operations, tighter contracts, an overhaul of HR and PR. Even the tone of emails had changed â colder, more precise.
He stepped into the executive lounge. Marcus was there, sipping black coffee like it was penance.
"You still hanging around?" Julian asked.
Marcus gave a tired shrug. "Figured someone should clean up the mess."
"You still bitter?"
"No," Marcus said. "Just bruised. Camille played me. You warned me, and I still fell for it."
Julian studied his friend. "Have you heard from her?"
Marcus hesitated. "She's off the radar. But someone saw her in Monaco. With Vincent Moreaux."
Julian's jaw tightened. "Helix CFO?"
Marcus nodded. "She's not just hiding. She's aligning."
đ¶ Monaco â Camille's New Game
Monaco shimmered like a diamond dipped in wine. On a private balcony overlooking the Riviera, Camille Rae traced her fingers along the stem of a crystal flute.
A man entered â lean, sharp-jawed, carrying a folder. Vincent Moreaux.
He placed it in front of her.
"Selene Kai's been in Geneva for five weeks. She hasn't left the city once."
Camille flipped open the folder. Photos. Reports. A financial growth chart that looked like a rocket.
"She's building a throne," Camille murmured.
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
Camille laughed. "No. Thrilled."
"Why?"
"Because I get to tear it down."
She set the folder aside and pulled something from her pocket: a pregnancy sonogram. Black and white, grainy â but unmistakable.
Vincent's gaze flicked to it. "You're serious about this?"
Camille's eyes gleamed. "I don't fake children."
"You're playing a long game."
"I'm playing the game."
đ§ Selene's Solitude
That night, Selene sat on the edge of her king-sized bed, apartment windows wide open to a blanket of stars and snow.
She should have felt triumphant. Instead, she felt... unsettled.
On her nightstand sat Julian's ring. A gold band worn with time and sentiment.
She picked it up, turning it between her fingers.
Could she go back? Could she ever let herself need anyone again?
She'd won.
But why did it feel so empty?
The silence answered her.
đ©ïž Evelyn's Dossier
The next morning, Evelyn walked into Selene's office, heels sharp as her intentions.
"Bad news," she said without preamble, dropping a folder onto Selene's desk.
Selene opened it. Camille Rae. Photos. Reports. The sonogram.
"She's alive."
"She's in Monaco," Evelyn said. "With resources. And a reason."
Selene's hand hovered over the photo. "She's pregnant."
"With Julian's child."
Selene's jaw clenched. "Are you certain?"
"As certain as we can be without DNA."
A long pause.
Then Selene shut the folder.
"Ready the jet."
âïž Final Scene â Arrival in Monaco
As the Helix jet touched down on the private tarmac in Monaco, Selene stepped out in a tailored black trench coat, the wind catching her hair like smoke.
The world was watching now.
And if Camille thought she could strike from the shadowsâŠ
Then she didn't understand who she was dealing with.
Because Selene Kai was no longer the woman who loved blindly.
She was the Queen of Ash and Ice.
And queens don't forgive.
They conquer.