Chapter 6
SIX
Ariana
Iinhaled the air of the town I had once left behind. It was crisp, almost clean, but beneath it lingered a staleness I hadn’t forgotten—the stench of rotten souls who still lived here.
The town itself hadn’t changed much. It was still as beautiful as I remembered, picturesque and quiet, with its neatly arranged houses, carefully tended gardens, and tall trees lining the streets like watchful guardians.
In the distance, the familiar green mountain stood unmoved, a backdrop to the life I once thought I’d have.
Everything looked the same, but everything had changed.
I loved this town dearly. I used to dream of raising a family here, of growing old in a house filled with warmth and laughter, and I had always imagined Grayson beside me, sharing that life.
But that version of my future had died a long time ago.
As I walked, I took it all in. The streets where Grayson and I used to stroll hand in hand, wrapped in the illusion that nothing could ever touch us. The quaint little cafés where we used to share our morning coffee, believing those quiet routines were promises of forever.
Memories rose from every corner, seeped through every brick, and swirled in the breeze that curled around the hem of my coat like a ghost from another life.
I slowed my steps, letting the sharp click of my heels echo along the pavement, announcing my return with every stride.
I had come back. It was time to begin.
I came carrying a plan I had crafted for three long years, a plan so consuming it had become a part of me.
This wasn’t just about clearing my name. It was about reclaiming my power. About justice.
I had spent three years preparing to beat Grayson at his own game.
His entire empire revolved around food, from upscale restaurant chains to a catering company, and included a collection of branded products bearing the family name.
But the restaurants were the beating heart of it all, the foundation on which everything else depended.
And I knew that if I wanted to make it hurt, that was exactly where I needed to strike.
Back when I was still his fiancée, the plan had always been for me to join the family business after we were married.
They welcomed me in, taught me everything they knew, convinced that I would soon be one of them.
What they never imagined was that I would take everything they gave me and use it to dismantle them piece by piece.
While I was gone, I didn’t just disappear.
I prepared. I spent two full years earning a master’s degree in culinary business, immersing myself in the industry’s strategy.
And when that was done, I devoted another year to traveling the country, studying everything from culinary literacy and taste profiling to food innovation, ingredient sourcing, kitchen workflow, and the subtle but powerful art of food storytelling.
I was not a chef, not at all. But I studied the business thoroughly and obsessively, with the kind of determination that only hate and heartbreak could create.
And I had Sandra Hale on my side. The Hale family reigned over the hospitality industry in this country. They were far more powerful than the so-called kings of this town, the Mercers.
Make no mistake, earning Sandra’s trust wasn’t easy.
She didn’t offer loyalty freely. She tested it, demanded proof, and I gave her exactly what she needed. I became someone she could rely on, someone who delivered when it mattered.
In time, I became the one she trusted.
I kept walking down the street, shops and boutiques lining both sides as the familiar scenery unfolded around me. People passed by, and a few stopped short when they recognized me. Their eyes lingered, uncertain whether to say something or simply keep walking.
I knew I had been the town’s favorite scandal for a while.
The gossip mills had feasted on my name, turning whispers into headlines and speculation into truth.
My parents took the brunt of it, too. They stood by me, tried to defend me, but their words fell on deaf ears.
No one wanted the truth, just a story to talk about.
I was never completely in the dark. I stayed well-informed about almost everything, thanks to Hannah and Payton. They made sure of it, until they, too, had to leave town when Payton got a new job.
Finally, I stopped at my destination. I turned to my left, eyes settling on the shop I had just purchased. It was still under renovation but nearly finished. The front was covered with plain black hoarding, broken only by a single word printed across it: Ana?s.
I had assembled a capable team to run it, and training was already underway. Last week, my team sent out press releases to local and industry media, celebrities, and key people in this town’s society, inviting them to a private dinner. The soft opening was scheduled for two weeks from now.
No one would guess the place belonged to me. No one would see it coming.
Why did I choose this location?
Because right behind me, directly across the street, stood Belrose, one of the Mercers’ most prized restaurants. Their crown jewel. The legendary spot that pulled in more money than any of their other restaurants.
I turned around slowly.
It was lunchtime, and as always, Belrose was packed. I tightened my coat around me and crossed the street, my steps unhurried.
Once I reached the other side, I stopped in front of the restaurant. My eyes swept over the building, then moved to the large glass window, scanning the inside.
I recognized a few people. The servers. They recognized me, too. A couple of them stood frozen, looking through the window like they were seeing a ghost.
I smiled at them. They didn’t smile back.
Still, I held their gaze, composed on the outside, even as something cold coiled quietly inside me.
Maybe they didn’t know what to make of me. Maybe they were trying to remember who I used to be. Or maybe they remembered exactly who they thought I was.
So I let them stare.
When I finally turned to walk away, I felt it—that presence behind me.
The feeling was familiar. Sharp. It prickled across my skin and raised goosebumps along my arms.
I turned back.
And there he was.
Grayson, standing just a few feet away, just in front of Belrose’s main entrance.
We stared at each other, frozen in place, neither of us moving to close the distance.
I didn’t step forward. He didn’t either.
Grayson had changed. Not completely, but enough to notice.
There was a tiredness etched into his face, and the light in his gray eyes had dimmed.
He wore a bit of stubble now—rough and uneven—giving him a more mature look, less polished than he used to be.
There was a new ruggedness to him, as if life had gradually worn down the smooth edges he once took so much pride in.
But beneath all of that, he was still Grayson.
My Grayson.
The one I had lost three years ago.
He knew I was back now.
And for now, that was enough.
Then, without a word or even a smile, I turned and walked away.
I sat on the couch just below the window of my one-bedroom apartment that I rented when I got back into town, staring at my laptop.
I was looking at Demi Wallace’s Instagram feed.
She was married now, and not to Grayson, which surprised me, as I thought that because I left, she would claw her nails into Grayson immediately.
But she didn’t. Or maybe he didn’t want her.
Her wedding was just two months ago, and she was still a newlywed to a man named Jack Helser, who was eleven years older than her, twice divorced, and had no children. Helser owned a chain of convenience stores, another king of the town next to the Mercers.
I didn’t know much about Helser, but that was fine. I had Toby now, someone who could get me whatever information I needed whenever I wanted it.
As I scrolled through her wedding photos, I smirked.
It was exactly what I expected from her.
Demi had always chased the kind of power that came from being tied to a respected name, the kind that opened doors without her lifting more than a smile in the right direction.
Demi didn’t just want stability or love.
She wanted admiration. She wanted people to look at her life and believe she had won.
She’d had her two months of playing queen. I’ll let her have a few more. After that, the game changes.
I checked my phone and saw a message from Toby. He had found Christian. What surprised me most was where. He had moved to the countryside, bought a farm, and now lived there in solitude.
According to Toby, Christian disappeared from town just a few days after I left. He cut off all contact and walked away from everyone he once knew.
Maybe he got burned too, just like I did.
Grayson’s family had deep roots in this town.
They were well-connected and well-regarded.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Christian had been quietly pushed out, the same way my parents had been.
They ended up renting out their house and moving to Adam’s villa by the beach, about two hours from here.
Far enough to stay away from the harsh whispers.
Christian would get what was coming to him when the time was right. I had already made room for him in my plan.
I closed my laptop and walked over to the kitchen to make myself some dinner. The apartment was quiet, just the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the silence. I opened it and pulled out a pack of sliced cheese and a container of grilled chicken strips, setting them on the counter.
I wasn’t in the mood for anything elaborate, just something simple and filling. I reached for the bread, grabbed some lettuce, and started assembling a sandwich. Layer by layer. Bread, cheese, chicken, a bit of mustard, and lettuce. I pressed the top slice down, watching it all come together.
I had just sat down at my small dining table—the one with only two chairs—when the doorbell rang. I frowned for a moment, confused, until I remembered I’d asked Kaye, one of my kitchen staff, to drop off some new wine samples from a vendor we were considering.
I stood and walked over to the panel by the door, pressing the button to unlock the main entrance downstairs. He’d be up in a minute or two, so I cracked the front door open slightly to let him in when he arrived.
Dinner would have to wait. I headed to the kitchen to make myself a coffee while I waited.
I heard the door being pushed open behind me, though I didn’t turn. My back was to the entryway.
Then came the sound of it closing.
And a voice I hadn’t heard in three years.
“What are you doing here, Ari?”
I froze.
Grayson.