“Ms. Voss,” one of the board members said eagerly, stepping forward, “it’s an honor. We’ve been trying to secure a meeting for months—”
“You’ll have one,” she replied calmly.
Her voice was soft.
But it carried.
“After I finish here.”
Julian followed her.
Desperate now.
“Elara,” he said again, louder.
This time—
She stopped.
Slowly.
Turned.
And looked at him.
For the first time that night.
Her eyes held no warmth.
No recognition.
Only clarity.
“Mr. Thorn,” she said.
The formality cut deeper than any insult.
He swallowed.
“What is this?” he asked. “What are you doing?”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Attending the gala,” she said. “I believe I was invited.”
He shook his head.
“No. I removed you. You weren’t—”
“Yes,” she interrupted gently.
“I saw.”
A small pause.
“Thank you, actually.”
Confusion flashed across his face.
“For what?” he asked.
“For clarity,” she said.
The room was listening now.
Every word.
Every breath.
“You helped me understand something tonight,” she continued.
Julian’s chest tightened.
“That I was never your partner.”
Silence.
“I was your disguise.”
A murmur moved through the crowd.
“That’s not true,” he said quickly. “You’re overreacting—”
She raised a hand.
Not aggressively.
But final.
“Don’t,” she said.
He stopped.
Because something in her tone made it impossible not to.
“You wanted image,” she said calmly.
“You wanted power.”
She took a step closer.
“So let’s talk about power.”
The room leaned in.
“Aurora Group,” she said, “holds 62% of the controlling shares in Thorn Enterprises.”
Gasps.
Julian’s face went pale.
“That’s not—” he started.
“It is,” she said.
She didn’t raise her voice.
She didn’t need to.
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