Elara sat on the plush couch in Isla’s expansive living room, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. Her eyes lingered on the message from Caleb, the words cutting through her fragile resolve like a blade:

"Stop creating the fuss and return to the mansion."

A week had passed since that harrowing incident in the Morgan greenhouse, yet Caleb remained as cold and unyielding as ever. Elara had hoped the divorce papers she sent would put an end to this chapter of her life, but Caleb’s refusal to even acknowledge them only added to her growing despair.

Her chest ached as she stared at the screen, her thoughts clouded with regret and confusion. Caleb wasn’t just dismissing her request; he was mocking her attempt to break free.

Across from her, Isla sat cross-legged in her usual air of elegance, a fiery contrast to Elara’s crumbling composure. Isla’s sharp eyes darted to the phone in Elara’s hand, narrowing as she read the cold message again.

“Unbelievable,” Isla muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

“He has the audacity to act like you’re the one making a scene? After everything he’s done?”

Elara sighed deeply, lowering the phone into her lap.

“What else did I expect, Isla? Caleb has always been like this—controlling, manipulative. I thought sending him the papers would give him the push he needed, but…”

Her voice trailed off, her gaze distant.

“But he’s not the type to let go easily,” Isla finished, her tone sharp.

“And why would he? This marriage gives him the perfect puppet to control, doesn’t it?”

Elara winced at her friend’s harsh words, though she knew they were true.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I thought I was ready to leave, but he’s making everything so… impossible.”

“That’s because he’s playing a game, Elara,” Isla said, leaning forward, her expression determined.

“And he’s used to winning. Caleb Morgan doesn’t lose—not in business, and certainly not in life. But that doesn’t mean we have to let him keep pulling the strings.”

Elara frowned, her brows knitting together.

“What do you mean?”

Isla smirked, her eyes gleaming with a spark of mischief.

“If Caleb wants to play dirty, then so will we. It’s time to hit him where it hurts.”

Elara blinked, startled by the intensity in her friend’s voice.

“Isla, I don’t want to stoop to his level. I just want to leave him and move on.”

“And you think he’ll let you do that if you keep playing nice?” Isla shot back, crossing her arms.

“Elara, Caleb is used to getting what he wants, and right now, he wants to keep you trapped. He’s not responding to the papers because he thinks he can outlast you—wear you down until you give up and come crawling back.”

Elara lowered her head, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch. Isla wasn’t wrong, and that realization made her feel even smaller.

“So, what should I do?” Elara asked softly.

Isla leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

“We will hit on his pride. Caleb thrives on control, on keeping his reputation untarnished. If we take that away from him, he’ll have no choice but to sign those papers.”

Elara looked up at Isla, her eyes wide with hesitation.

“What are you talking about, Isla? How could we even do something like that?”

Isla smirked, her confidence radiating.

“Leave that to me. I have a plan. We’ll make Caleb Morgan regret ever underestimating you.”

Elara’s heart raced at Isla’s words, a mix of fear and hope swirling in her chest. For the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, she could finally escape Caleb’s suffocating grip.

But as Isla began outlining her plan, one lingering thought remained in Elara’s mind: Would this really work, or would it only make Caleb more dangerous than ever?

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Two days later, the air was charged with anticipation as Isla dragged Elara to a renowned boutique in the heart of the city. The boutique itself was a picture of opulence, with gleaming chandeliers casting warm light on rows of exquisite gowns, each one seemingly more breathtaking than the last.

Elara stood in front of the full-length mirror, completely unrecognizable to herself. Draped in a stunning midnight blue gown with a plunging neckline, the silky fabric hugged her form perfectly, accentuating her delicate frame while flowing elegantly to the floor. The intricate beadwork shimmered with every movement, catching the light like tiny stars. Her usually understated face now glowed with subtle makeup—softly defined eyes, rosy cheeks, and lips painted in a bold crimson shade that made her look effortlessly regal. Her hair, styled in soft waves, framed her face like a crown.

She turned to Isla, her hands nervously smoothing the gown.

“I… I don’t know, Isla. This doesn’t feel like me.”

Isla, dressed in her own emareld gown that glittered like a night sky, beamed at her.

“Are you kidding me? You look stunning! No one—no one—will be able to take their eyes off you, Elara.”

She circled her friend, admiring her from every angle like a proud stylist.

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were walking straight onto the red carpet tonight.”

Elara glanced at herself again in the mirror, her fingers brushing the necklace Isla had lent her—a delicate diamond pendant that seemed to glow against her skin.

“I feel like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“Good,” Isla said with a smirk, stepping closer and resting her hands on Elara’s shoulders.

“Tonight, you’re not the Elara Morgan who’s been stuck in a loveless marriage."

"Tonight, you’re Elara—confident, beautiful, and ready to take charge of her life.”

Elara’s eyes flickered with doubt.

“But Caleb will be there. I… I don’t know if I’m ready to face him again, especially not after—”

Isla cut her off, gripping her shoulders firmly.

“Listen to me, Elara. You’re not doing this for Caleb. You’re doing this for you. That man has controlled you for far too long, and tonight, you’re going to show him—and everyone else—that you’re not the same woman who let him walk all over her.”

Elara swallowed hard, her heart pounding.

“But what if he tries to humiliate me? What if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” Isla interrupted.

“You have me by your side, and trust me, we’re playing this on our terms tonight.”

She stepped back and admired her friend with a playful grin.

“And seriously, with how you look right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Caleb has a heart attack the moment he sees you.”

Elara let out a nervous laugh, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her gown.

“I still feel like I’m going to trip or say something stupid.”

“Then trip with confidence,” Isla teased, giving her a wink.

“Because tonight, you’re going to make a statement. You’re going to walk into that party like the goddess you are, and Caleb Morgan won’t know what hit him.”

Taking a deep breath, Elara finally nodded, her resolve hardening.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

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Sienna Blackwood—a name synonymous with stardom and glamour. In just five years since her debut, she had become the reigning queen of the film industry, with her name etched in the hearts of millions. Every role she played turned to gold, every movie she starred in became a blockbuster, and every appearance she made on red carpets was nothing short of iconic.

However, with such meteoric success came whispers—rumors that her rise wasn’t entirely her own. The gossip mills churned out tales of a powerful benefactor: Caleb Morgan.

A charismatic and enigmatic business magnate, Caleb wasn’t just a force in corporate circles but had also ventured into the entertainment world, founding a prestigious film studio. That studio happened to have Sienna as its crown jewel. Their long-standing childhood friendship only added fuel to the fire. The tabloids thrived on their association, painting stories of a secret romance that neither denied nor confirmed.

From glamorous galas to intimate private dinners, Caleb and Sienna had been spotted together countless times. Their chemistry was undeniable, and their presence together always commanded attention. It was no wonder that speculation about their relationship refused to die down. Were they just close friends, or was there more to their bond than met the eye?

Today, the spotlight was once again on them. News of Sienna’s lavish birthday party, organized by none other than Caleb Morgan himself, had set tongues wagging. The guest list boasted the crème de la crème of high society, and the party promised to be a spectacle of unmatched grandeur. The opulent venue, the exclusive guest list, and the rumors of Caleb sparing no expense only heightened the anticipation.

The grand ballroom was alive with energy, a vibrant orchestra playing a lively tune as elegantly dressed guests mingled under shimmering chandeliers. The air buzzed with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and conversations that spoke of wealth and influence. Sienna Blackwood stood near the center, a vision of beauty and grace.

Her gown was breathtaking—a flowing masterpiece of silver and lavender hues, its intricate work shimmering with every movement. Her makeup was flawless, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, and her dark hair was styled into a perfect updo that left everyone around her enchanted. She moved with the practiced ease of a star who knew she was being watched.

But despite her polite smiles and lively conversations, Sienna’s eyes darted constantly toward the grand entrance. She wasn’t just hosting this party to celebrate her birthday; it was a stage, a performance, and her audience needed to see one person in particular. Caleb Morgan.

Behind her poised exterior, Sienna’s heart raced. She had been working tirelessly to shape the rumors surrounding her relationship with Caleb, and tonight was her opportunity to cement those whispers as truth. Becoming Mrs. Morgan wasn’t just a dream—it was her goal, her ambition. To get there, she had made calculated moves, pulling strings and doing whatever it took to remain indispensable in Caleb’s life.

Just as she turned to greet another guest, a subtle shift rippled through the room. Heads turned, conversations paused, and the music seemed to fade into the background. Caleb Morgan had arrived.

He strode in with an unshakable confidence, dressed in a perfectly tailored midnight-black tuxedo. The sharp lines of his suit, the silver cufflinks glinting subtly under the light, and his polished shoes screamed understated luxury. His raven-black hair was neatly styled, and his piercing gray eyes scanned the room with an air of command.

The effect was immediate. Women whispered behind gloved hands, their eyes sparkling with admiration. Men adjusted their jackets, suddenly aware of their own presence in comparison to his commanding aura. Caleb exuded power, the kind that made everyone in his vicinity acutely aware of their place.

Sienna’s lips curved into a bright smile, her heart skipping a beat as she quickly moved toward him. She greeted him with a warm hug, her fingers lingering just a little longer on his shoulders, her head tilted up as she complained lightly, “You’re late, Caleb. I thought you might miss my big night.”

Caleb allowed a faint smile, his posture as unyielding as ever.

“I’m here now,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying over the din of the party.

The sight of them together was enough to set the room abuzz. Some guests exchanged knowing glances, convinced this was the couple of the hour. Others, jealous of Sienna’s proximity to such an enigmatic and powerful man, whispered among themselves.

“You two look perfect together,” someone commented, loud enough for others to hear.

Sienna basked in the moment, her arm subtly resting on Caleb’s as she led him further into the party. To everyone watching, she was the queen of the night, and Caleb was her king.

But Caleb’s face remained impassive. For all the glamour surrounding him, there was a detachment in his demeanor, a cold distance that Sienna either didn’t notice or chose to ignore.

As the orchestra resumed its melody and the guests continued their chatter, one thing became clear to everyone in the room: Sienna Blackwood was determined to make this her night. And with Caleb Morgan by her side, she intended to let the world know that she had claimed the most unattainable man in the room. Or so she thought.

The party was at its peak, laughter and conversation reverberating through the grand hall. Isla stood at the edge of the crowd, sipping her champagne with a calm expression that masked the storm within. Her sharp eyes never left Sienna and Caleb, who were basking in the spotlight.

Sienna glowed under the attention, her arm casually linked with Caleb’s as if to remind everyone of her place by his side. Caleb, as always, maintained his enigmatic composure, his sharp features unreadable. The guests were drawn to their dynamic like moths to a flame, captivated by the seemingly perfect pair.

Isla, however, felt fury simmering beneath her skin. She hadn’t wanted to attend the party, but the allure of watching these carefully constructed facades crumble was too tempting to resist. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass as the waitstaff rolled in a towering, exquisitely decorated cake to the center of the hall.

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered around. Sienna took center stage along with Caleb, her assistant trailing behind her to adjust the train of her dress. The cake glistened under the golden chandeliers, and as the crowd sang in unison, Sienna, with a dazzling smile, leaned forward to cut the first slice.

But then, a new sound broke through the noise—a soft, melodic voice singing Happy Birthday.

The room fell silent. Heads turned, eyes searching for the source of the sweet, haunting voice that seemed to cast a spell over the gathering. Slowly, their gazes landed on the entrance to the hall, where a woman in an midnight blue gown stood, microphone in one hand and a small envelope in the other.

Her beauty was ethereal, understated yet impossible to ignore. The deep blue  gown hugged her figure perfectly, the soft shimmer of its fabric catching the light with every movement. Her hair flowed in gentle waves, framing a face that radiated purity and confidence, unlike anyone else in the room. She walked with an elegance that seemed unworldly, her head held high and her gaze steady.

The murmurs started almost immediately.

“Who is she?”

“Is she from Sienna’s circle?But I had never seen her before, she so beautiful."

"Even she can take the spotlight from sienna, how stunning she is looking."

“Maybe an actress? A model? A Business person,” But I had never seen her before.

But no one seemed to have an answer. None of the guests could place her, except for three people who were struck silent, each with vastly different reactions.

Isla’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk as she see Elara. Her heart swelled with pride, wanting to cheer for her friend’s confidence. She wanted to clap and yell, “That’s my girl!” but held herself back, eager to see the drama unfold.

Sienna, on the other hand, froze. Her initial confusion quickly turned into disbelief, her grip tightening around the cake knife. She couldn’t take her eyes off Elara—couldn’t decide whether to feel fear or envy. Elara looked breathtaking, her radiance outshining everything and everyone in the room, including Sienna herself. For the first time in years, Sienna felt a tremor of inadequacy.

Caleb’s reaction was more subtle, but no less intense. His gray eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unrecognizable passing through them. Stunned as he was, he kept his face emotionless, a mask he had perfected over the years. But inside, he was shaken.

How was she here?

Why was she here?

And why did she seem so... different?

He noted the way she carried herself—the confident strides, the serene smile, and most of all, her eyes. They weren’t the same eyes he remembered. Gone was the submissive, gentle gaze he had grown accustomed to. In its place was a steely determination, a spark he couldn’t quite place, and it unnerved him.

As Elara gracefully made her way toward the stage, every pair of eyes in the room followed her, the buzz of speculation growing louder. She ascended the steps slowly, her presence commanding without needing to demand. The mic in her hand lowered as she finally reached Sienna and Caleb.

“Happy birthday, Ms. Blackwood,” Elara said, her voice soft but carrying an edge that hinted at something deeper.

The room seemed to hold its breath. All eyes were now on the trio, and for the first time that evening, Sienna wasn’t sure she could hold the spotlight.