The city skyline glittered beyond Clara's balcony, each skyscraper a tower of power she had walked through countless times. But tonight, her pride burned hotter than the lights outside. She swirled her wineglass lazily, though she hadn't taken a sip.
"That girl…" Clara's smile was sharp, brittle. "She actually thinks she belongs."
She turned as the sound of footsteps echoed through her apartment. A man in a tailored suit entered, tall and discreet—her family's trusted fixer, the kind of man who dealt in information rather than words.
"Miss Clara," he said with a bow of his head. "You called."
Clara's eyes glinted. "I want every detail about Lena Hart. Where she came from. Who her family is. Her education, her… scandals. There must be something unworthy in her past. Find it, and make sure it spreads where it hurts the most."
The man nodded. "Consider it done."
Clara's laugh rang out, light and dangerous. "Adrian may tolerate her presence now, but once her name is dragged through the mud, he'll remember who truly belongs at his side."
Morning sunlight spilled across the glass walls of Adrian's penthouse. Lena blinked awake, the city humming faintly below. For a rare moment, peace lingered—until she remembered last night. The dance. Adrian's unreadable gaze. Clara's simmering fury.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from her friend Sophie flashed on the screen:
"Lena, are you awake? I need to talk to you. Call me ASAP."
Lena frowned, her stomach twisting with unease. Sophie's tone was urgent, unlike her usual playful self.
She padded to the kitchen, where Adrian was already seated at the long dining table, a newspaper spread before him, coffee in hand. His presence was sharp even in the quiet of morning.
"You're up early," he remarked without looking up.
"I—um—didn't sleep much," Lena admitted, pouring herself a glass of water. Her phone buzzed again, and Adrian's eyes flicked up, catching the tension on her face.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
Lena hesitated, clutching the phone. "I'm not sure. Sophie says it's urgent."
Adrian's gaze lingered on her for a moment, then he set down his cup. "Take the call."
His tone was calm, but there was something beneath it—something that told her he already suspected trouble was on its way.
And he was right.
Because miles away, Clara was already smiling at the thought of Lena's past being dragged into the ruthless light of high society.