Chapter 3: Winter in Bloom
The Crown Hall glittered like a world pulled straight from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers caught the light like snowfall, while ice-sculpted lilies framed each entryway. Waiters in white gloves moved like whispers through the grand ballroom, offering champagne on silver trays.
Elira paused at the top of the staircase, trying not to let the dizzying glamour swallow her. The deep red gown she wore clung to her curves and flared at the bottom like a blooming rose. She felt exposed. She felt powerful.
Cassia, beside her in sleek black, nudged her elbow. "You look like you walked out of a revenge fantasy."
"That's… actually how I feel."
As they descended the stairs, the buzz in the room shifted. People turned. Phones were subtly raised. Whispers followed.
"Is that the florist?"
"The one who stood up to Ares Valen?"
"She's wearing red. She knows what she's doing."
At the foot of the stairs, he waited.
Ares Valen.
Dressed in a black velvet tux with no tie—just a sharp blood-red pocket square. His hair was slicked back, his gaze fixed solely on her.
Their eyes met, and something primal shifted between them.
"You came," he said quietly as she reached him.
Elira arched a brow. "I never said I wouldn't."
"You look—" He hesitated, for once unsure.
"Like a threat?" she offered.
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Exactly."
Before more words could pass between them, the moment shattered.
"Darling!" a woman's voice called, slicing through the crowd like silk and steel.
They turned to see a statuesque woman in a silver gown, dripping diamonds and danger.
"Elira," Ares said curtly, "meet Selene D'Amour. CEO of Crystallis Hotels. And a very old… acquaintance."
Selene smiled wickedly. "So this is the girl who made the untouchable Ares Valen bleed on live TV."
Elira extended her hand. "Pleased to disappoint."
Selene laughed, genuinely amused. "She's fun."
"Play nice," Ares muttered.
"Oh, I always play," Selene replied, her eyes narrowing. "Especially when the prize is watching you squirm."
---
The night blurred into a whirlwind of introductions and veiled threats. Elira was introduced to Ares's business partners, board members, and the social elite. Her name was whispered like a storm. To some, she was a joke. To others, a weapon.
At one point, Cassia whispered, "We're officially in shark-infested waters."
Noah, disguised in a waiter's uniform, popped in with champagne and recon. "One wrong step and someone here will try to buy your soul."
Elira sipped her drink and murmured, "They can't afford me."
---
Then the music stopped.
Flashbulbs exploded at the ballroom entrance.
Security shifted.
The air changed.
And she walked in.
Liana Cross.
The woman Ares was once set to marry. Heiress to CrossTech Media. Brilliant, beautiful, and heartless.
She wore a gown as dark as midnight. Her expression was sharp, her smile faint—but deadly.
Cassia nearly dropped her glass. "Oh my god. Is that her?"
"Who?" Elira asked, bristling.
Noah whistled softly. "The ex. The one who ghosted after crashing Valen's launch party and leaking half his pitch deck to his rivals."
"She ruined him," Cassia added. "But not enough to break him."
Ares had turned to look. His body went still.
Liana's gaze slid past him, locking directly on Elira.
And she smiled.
Something ancient and icy moved beneath her skin.
"She's looking at me like I parked in her graveyard," Elira murmured.
"She's looking at you like you stole her unfinished business," Cassia corrected.
---
Ares and Liana met at the far side of the ballroom.
"You weren't invited," he said coolly.
"I came anyway."
"I could have you removed."
She raised an eyebrow. "Would you? In front of all your new friends? Or your new… project?"
His jaw tensed. "Elira isn't—"
"Please," Liana cut in. "You're practically glowing. This is fun. Like old times, but with prettier props."
Ares stepped closer, lowering his voice. "If you're here to cause trouble—"
"Oh, I'm not here for you, Ares. I'm here for her. I want to see what kind of woman dethrones a king."
---
Back on the balcony, Elira leaned on the railing, breath escaping her in cold puffs. The view of Manhattan glittered, but it couldn't quiet her thoughts.
Footsteps.
She turned quickly.
Noah appeared, holding a small USB stick.
"Found this in the Valen storage office. Label says Project V."
Elira stared. "What the hell is it?"
"No idea. But Valen's name is all over it. And guess who else? Liana Cross."
Elira took the USB, heart pounding. "This could blow everything open."
And that's when Ares appeared in the doorway.
Noah froze.
"I'll go… refill champagne," he mumbled and vanished.
Ares stepped forward, eyes on the USB in Elira's hand.
"I warned you," he said softly.
"And I didn't listen."
His jaw tightened. "Project V is not what you think."
"Then tell me what it is."
He said nothing.
Silence grew thick.
"I want to believe you," Elira said. "But every time I start to, someone shows up with more proof that you lie."
"I've never lied to you."
"You didn't have to," she snapped. "You just hid the truth."
Ares stepped closer. "You're the only person who's ever challenged me like this."
"Good," she whispered. "Because I'm not here to fall in line. I'm here to win."
The tension flared between them. So did the fire.
Then Ares did something unexpected.
He reached up, brushing a stray curl from her face—his fingers warm, deliberate.
"I don't want to fight you, Elira."
Her voice broke. "Then stop giving me reasons to."
Their faces were inches apart now.
He could kiss her.
She could let him.
But she didn't.
And neither did he.
Instead, he pulled away, gaze unreadable.
"Keep the USB," he said. "But be careful what you're willing to uncover."
And then he left—leaving Elira alone with the glittering city, the burning truth, and a war that had only just begun.