Elara moved with unshaken confidence, her emerald gown shimmering under the soft glow of the chandeliers as all eyes followed her. The envelope she'd been holding found its place on the table near the cake, an understated yet deliberate gesture. Then, with a poised calm that rivaled the intensity of the tension in the room, she took a fork, sliced a small piece of the pristine cake, and brought it to her lips.

The murmur of the crowd grew louder; disbelief and curiosity rippled through the opulent hall. Sienna's grip on the knife tightened, her knuckles white as she fought to maintain her composure. Her gaze burned into Elara, but Elara ignored it, savoring the taste of the cake as if the room weren't spinning with whispers and judgments.

From the sidelines, Isla's lips curved into a satisfied smile, almost mischievous as she witnessed Elara’s boldness.

"Go on, girl," Isla thought, silently cheering her friend’s audacious act of defiance.

Caleb, standing a short distance away, watched Elara intently. His face betrayed no emotion, but his piercing eyes followed her every move, trying to discern her intentions. What game was she playing now? Her actions were calculated, deliberate—so unlike the woman he’d known for four years.

The room fell into a stunned silence as Elara, with a calm confidence, picked up a fork, took a delicate piece of the cake, and tasted it before Sienna could even finish cutting it. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the audacious act unfolded, each guest exchanging glances filled with disbelief and amusement. Sienna stood frozen, her hand gripping the knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her perfectly curated smile faltered, the air of elegance she had so carefully maintained cracking under the weight of the blatant provocation.

This was her moment, her grand celebration, her night to shine, and yet here was this unknown woman—beautiful, poised, and utterly unapologetic—stealing the spotlight and challenging her authority with a single, calculated bite. It was as if Elara had shattered the invisible pedestal Sienna had placed herself on, reducing her grandeur to a mere backdrop for the drama unfolding before everyone’s eyes.

Sienna’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her carefully applied makeup unable to mask the humiliation surging through her veins. She felt exposed, as if Elara had stripped away the layers of control and perfection she had built around herself. The whispers in the crowd grew louder, each murmured word feeling like a dagger to Sienna's pride. It was no longer her party; it had become Elara’s stage.

With a slight smirk, she finally broke the silence.

"It tastes nice," she commented casually, her voice smooth but edged with an air of challenge.

The room went still again as she lifted her gaze, sweeping it across the sea of stunned faces. With the same grace, she stepped closer to the center, her voice rising with clarity and confidence.

"I can see the curiosity in your eyes. I’m sure you’re all wondering who I am."

Elara paused, allowing the tension to linger for a heartbeat longer. Then, with a poised smile, she delivered the words that shook the room:

"Let me introduce myself. I’m Elara—or to put it more accurately, I am Elara Morgan. The wife of Caleb Morgan."

Gasps erupted around the room, followed by a hum of shocked whispers. The words "Mrs. Morgan" hung in the air, their weight sinking into everyone present. Guests exchanged glances, their disbelief evident. Caleb Morgan—the Caleb Morgan—the country’s most eligible bachelor, was married?

The disbelief turned to speculation, then to unease. If Elara was indeed Mrs. Morgan, then what was Sienna? Just the “other woman”? The crowd's collective judgment was palpable, though many hesitated to voice it aloud.

Caleb’s stillness added fuel to the fire. He neither denied Elara’s words nor made any move to interrupt her. His silence was confirmation enough for the crowd, and the whispers grew louder.

Sienna’s world felt like it was crumbling. Rage boiled inside her, but she was frozen, her expression strained as she fought to maintain a façade of composure. Elara’s presence was a slap in the face, her declaration a public humiliation Sienna hadn't prepared for.

Elara, unbothered by the growing chaos around her, maintained her poise. Her gaze never wavered as she addressed the crowd again. "I’m not going to be his wife for long, though," she added coolly, her words cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

The room fell silent again, the weight of her statement sinking in. If Elara was Mrs. Morgan, and she was already declaring her intention to no longer be, what did that mean for the golden image of Caleb Morgan—and for Sienna?

Caleb’s jaw clenched, his expression still unreadable. But his eyes told a different story—something dark and stormy brewing beneath the surface. Sienna, on the other hand, was seething, her carefully constructed image of perfection beginning to crack under the weight of the truth.

The stage was set, the players positioned, and the audience left in stunned anticipation of what was to come next. Elara stood at the center of it all, unflinching, ready to play her hand to the very end.

Elara, her poise unshaken and her smile unnervingly calm, turned toward Caleb. For the first time in this evening she meet his fiery gaze, she moved with deliberate grace, picking up the envelope she had placed on the table. The crowd, still stunned from her earlier revelation, watched in silence as she extended the envelope toward Caleb.

"Here," she said with a voice as steady as the tension was thick, her sweet tone hiding the sharp edges of her words.

Caleb, who had been frozen in his storm of emotions, now took a step forward, his jaw clenched and his eyes locked on her. When he didn’t immediately take the envelope, Elara didn’t wait. Instead, she threw it toward him, the papers spilling slightly as they hit his chest and fell to the floor between them.

"Elara!" Caleb growled, his voice reverberating through the room like thunder. His fury was palpable, his fists clenching at his sides. But Elara stood unmoved, her demeanor unyielding.

"Let’s get a divorce, Mr. Morgan," she said, her voice dripping with finality.

"I had these papers drafted with my lawyer. Don’t worry—they won’t affect your precious inheritance or the Morgan family's empire. I want nothing from you, Caleb. Nothing… except my freedom."

The crowd collectively gasped, the weight of her words making the air feel heavier. Whispers began to circulate once again, as Elara’s declaration shattered the perfect façade Caleb Morgan had cultivated.

She continued, her gaze unwavering and her tone calm but laced with steel.

"I wish you all the happiness and love in your life. Truly."

Caleb’s fury only deepened. His silence was more ominous than any words he could have spoken. His dark eyes bore into her, searching for any sign of hesitation, but he found none.

Just as she spun on her heel to leave, she paused mid-step. Slowly, she turned toward Sienna, whose face was a mask of rage and humiliation.

Elara’s smile widened, though her eyes gleamed with something far from joy.

"Oh, Sienna," she began, her tone almost playful.

"I wasn’t on your guest list, but I simply couldn’t resist the chance to join the celebration. After all, birthdays are about surprises, aren’t they?"

Sienna tried to interject, her voice shaky with anger.

"Elara, what are you—"

Elara cut her off smoothly.

"And speaking of surprises," she continued, her tone now sharper, "you must admit… my gift is unlike any you’ve ever received before."

Caleb's body tensed, and Sienna’s eyes darted nervously between him and Elara, sensing the storm brewing.

Sienna stammered, "You have no right—"

But Elara’s voice sliced through her protests like a blade.

"I have every right darling...."

"Let’s just say it’s the kind of gift only a wife could give…"

She paused for effect, her words hanging in the air before delivering the final blow.

"…to her husband’s girlfriend."

The room collectively held its breath as her words landed.

Sienna’s face drained of color, but Elara wasn’t finished. Her sweet smile turned razor-sharp as she added,

"Or perhaps I should say… mistress?"

The murmurs in the crowd turned to audible gasps, some guests awkwardly averting their gazes while others reveled in the unfolding drama.

Elara’s focus shifted back to Caleb, who was staring at her with a cold, unreadable expression.

"Tomorrow at 11 a.m., I’ll be waiting for you at the Civil Affairs Bureau," she said, her voice clear and firm.

"Don’t ditch me this time, Caleb. I think we’ve had enough delays, don’t you?"

Her words were like a challenge, but her tone was calm—eerily so.

Finally, with one last glance at Sienna, Elara turned to the crowd, her parting words delivered with impeccable grace.

"Once again, Sienna, happy birthday. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. It’s certainly one you won’t forget."

With that, she placed the microphone back on table and walked out of the party. Her midnight blue gown trailed behind her like a banner of victory, leaving in her wake a room full of stunned and speechless onlookers.

Isla, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t suppress her grin.

"That’s my girl," she thought, brimming with pride at Elara’s strength and left the party after the live high voltage drama unfold.

Caleb, however, stood rooted to the spot, his anger and confusion colliding in a tempest within him. He clenched his fists tighter, his gaze following Elara’s retreating figure, the echo of her words reverberating in his mind.

Sienna, meanwhile, was left standing in the center of the room, her face a mask of humiliation and fury, as the whispers around her grew louder. Her perfect image—her meticulously constructed fantasy of being the future Mrs. Morgan—was crumbling before her eyes.