The penthouse Elena had rented was a glass-walled fortress overlooking the city, a sharp contrast to the cramped, salt-aired cottage where she had raised her children for five years. As the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them, the silence of the room felt like a physical weight.
"Mommy? Are you okay?" Leo's voice was small, cutting through the tension. He was still wearing the tiny bowtie, though he had tugged it loose.
Elena dropped her clutch on the marble counter and knelt, pulling both children into a tight embrace. She could feel Mia's small heart racing against her chest. "I'm fine, my loves. You were so brave tonight. So brave."
"That man," Mia whispered into Elena's shoulder. "He looked like he was going to cry. Is he really our daddy?"
Elena pulled back, looking into the eyes that haunted her dreams every night. "He is. But being a father is more than just blood, Mia. It's about being there when the storm hits. And he wasn't there."
After Sarah led the children away to their rooms, Elena walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Below, the city lights flickered like a sea of diamonds, but her mind was back in that ballroom. She could still see the glass shattering in Silas's hand. She could still smell his expensive cologne.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. An unknown number.
She knew who it was before she even swiped.
"I told you to wait for the lawyers, Silas," she said, her voice dropping an octave into a cold, professional tone.
"Elena." His voice was raw, stripped of the arrogance he usually wore like armor. "I don't care about the lawyers. I don't care about the board meeting. I am standing outside your building. Let me up."
"No."
"Elena, please. I've lived five years thinking you were a ghost. I've lived five years with the weight of what I did to you. And now... those children. They have my eyes, Elena. You can't keep me from them."
"I can and I will, until I know they are safe from the snakes you call family," Elena hissed, her grip tightening on the phone until her knuckles turned white. "You believed Beatrice over me once. You threw me out like I was nothing. Do you have any idea what it's like to realize you're pregnant while you're wondering where your next meal will come from?"
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Elena could hear his ragged breathing.
"I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you," Silas whispered. "Just let me see them. Let me talk to you."
"Goodbye, Silas. See you in the boardroom."
She hung up and immediately dialed another number. "Mark? It's Elena. The first phase is done. He's rattled. Now, I want you to leak the information about the Vance subsidiary's illegal offshore accounts. Not to the press yet—just to the junior board members. Let's see how Beatrice handles a rebellion from within."
Elena poured herself a glass of water, her hands finally steady. She wasn't just here for the children's birthright. She was here to dismantle the very foundation of the Vance name, brick by brick, until Silas had nothing left but her.
The water was cool, but it did nothing to soothe the fire burning in Elena's chest. She walked back to the window, watching a sleek, black Maybach pull away from the curb forty stories below. She knew that car. She knew the man inside was likely gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles bled.
Good. Let him bleed. He had five years of peace while she had five years of war.
Her gaze shifted to a thick manila folder resting on the mahogany coffee table. It was labeled Vance International: Project Phoenix. For five years, while Silas was expanding his empire, Elena had been studying its cracks. She knew which board members were unhappy, which investments were failing, and exactly how much Beatrice Vance had been embezzling from the charity foundation.
"Mommy?"
Elena turned to see Leo standing in the doorway. He looked so much like a younger version of Silas that for a heartbeat, her breath hitched. But Leo's eyes held a softness Silas had never possessed.
"Why are we here, really?" Leo asked, his voice far too mature for a four-year-old. "Auntie Sarah said we came to get what belongs to us. But you look... sad."
Elena walked over and sat on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, patting the spot beside her. Leo climbed up, his small hand finding hers.
"I'm not sad, Leo. I'm focused," she said softly, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. "People in this city think they can take things from others just because they have money. They think they can take a person's dignity. I'm here to show them they're wrong."
"Is the man in the suit the one who took things?"
"He's the one who allowed them to be taken," Elena corrected.
Leo nodded solemnly. "Then we should take them back."
After tucked the children into bed, Elena spent the rest of the night hunched over her laptop. The "Board Meeting" she had mentioned wasn't just a threat. She had spent the last year quietly acquiring shares through various shell companies based in the Cayman Islands.
The next morning, the lobby of Vance International was a hive of buzzing whispers. The news of the "Ghost of the Gala" had spread like wildfire. Every employee was glancing at their phones, re-watching the grainy footage of the billionaire Silas Vance dropping to his knees.
When the elevator doors opened on the executive floor, the silence was deafening. Elena stepped out, dressed in a sharp, blood-red power suit that screamed for attention. Behind her, two burly men in suits carried briefcases—her legal team.
She didn't head for the reception desk. She walked straight toward the double frosted-glass doors of the boardroom.
"Ma'am, you can't go in there! The board is in an emergency session!" the secretary cried, scurrying after her.
Elena didn't stop. She pushed the doors open with both hands.
The room was filled with gray-haired men and a very frantic-looking Beatrice Vance. At the head of the table sat Silas. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with stubble. When he saw Elena, his entire body jolted as if hit by an electric current.
"Elena," he breathed.
"Morning, gentlemen. And Beatrice," Elena said, her voice smooth as silk. She walked to the only empty chair at the table—the one directly opposite Silas—and pulled it out.
"What is the meaning of this?" Beatrice shrieked, slamming her hand on the table. "This is a private meeting for shareholders! Security!"
"I am a shareholder, Beatrice," Elena replied calmly. She signaled to her lawyer, who laid a stack of documents on the table. "As of 4:00 PM yesterday, I represent Vance-Legacy Holdings, which currently controls twelve percent of this company's voting stock."
The color drained from Beatrice's face. The board members began to mutter frantically. Twelve percent was enough to swing any vote. It was enough to trigger an audit.
Silas didn't look at the papers. He only looked at Elena. "You spent five years planning this?"
"I spent five years surviving, Silas. The planning was just a hobby," Elena snapped. She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Now, shall we discuss the illegal offshore accounts being run through the Singapore branch? Or should we wait for the federal investigators to arrive?"
Silas felt the world spinning. He had wanted her back, but he hadn't realized that the woman who returned was a shark who had learned to swim in much deeper waters than his own.