Chapter Three #2
The woman Konflict walked in with stood at my side, studying me with a smile that held a little too much pride for someone flaunting herself with another woman’s husband.
She was beautiful and impossible to ignore.
Tall with endless legs worthy of a runway model, her dress perfectly hugging every curve.
Her skin was a flawless caramel, smooth and glowing under the lights, and her almond-shaped eyes watched me with a cool confidence.
I could see how much her beauty fit this room, how easily she turned heads.
It hurt to admit it, but she had a presence that made my heart twist with envy.
She seemed to be around my age, maybe a year or two older at most, definitely from my generation, and everything about her screamed that she belonged beside men like Konflict.
I saw every detail, recognized her beauty, and it stung because I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t real.
“Would you tell me the boutique? I’d love to get one for myself.”
Rage curled low in my stomach, but I kept my expression polite.
“I don’t think that will be possible,” I answered softly. “The tailor works exclusively for the Korven family. And unless I’m mistaken, you’re not a Korven… are you?”
Her smile sharpened.
“Unless I’m mistaken, I walked in tonight on the arm of the Korven head himself. I doubt Konflict would mind connecting me with his tailor, considering how close we are. And I assure you, I can afford anything I want. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Eleana Sawyer.”
Sawyer.
Of course she was.
Their family had been slithering across Emberwick for months, trying to claim a seat at the Big Six table.
I heard whispers that they wanted to replace my family.
Private galleries scattered across Canada, high-end collections rooted in Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal.
They had money, but Emberwick offered what no other city could.
Protection and immunity. That untouchable status came with real sovereignty.
The Sawyer’s were desperate to lock it in and now she was standing here in front of me, pretending she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.
Fire tightened behind my ribs.
I leaned in just enough for my voice to reach her clearly.
“If being a trophy pleases you, while clinging to a man who is married and whose wife is standing in the same room, then congratulations. Wear the label proudly.”
Her smile faltered.
“But from where I’m standing,” I continued, “even with all your confidence, there is still something you want and don’t have. The Korven name. Apparently, my tailor too.”
I met her gaze without flinching then lifted my glass and stepped past her with a calm she didn’t deserve.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I stepped out of the hall before the burn behind my eyes could spill in front of people.
The balcony doors opened easily beneath my hand, cold night air rushing over my skin, cooling nothing and calming even less.
I set my glass down on a nearby table, then gripped the stone railing trying to steady my breath, but humiliation and jealousy crawled across my chest. It felt alive, tightening every time I replayed the image of Konflict walking in with another woman clinging to him as if she had earned the right to stand in the spot that should be mine.
Footsteps broke the quiet.
I turned slightly, seeing a man step into the soft glow spilling from inside. I didn’t know him, but I recognized the resemblance—sharp jawline, same caramel undertone as Eleana, same arrogance pressed into his posture. He smiled before he even reached me.
“Doesn’t look like your marriage is holding up very well,” he drawled, looking amused. The amusement in his eyes twisted my stomach into a knot.
He let his gaze sweep over me, lingering too long on my hips, on the neckline of my dress, on every place his eyes had no right to go. He bit his lower lip as if he were observing something he believed he could claim.
“I don’t think my marriage is any concern of strangers.”
I held myself together, even as discomfort crawled over my skin.
He chuckled—a low, self-satisfied sound—and lifted his hand to push aside a strand of hair falling across my forehead.
I jerked away so fast my earrings brushed my shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.”
That only widened his grin.
“A real lioness,” he murmured, stepping closer, bringing the smell of expensive cologne and arrogance with him.
“I like that. When your marriage ends, I’ll enjoy spending some time with you.
You look delicious. I could spend hours tasting your beautiful body.
I’ll give you every kind of pleasure your husband clearly doesn’t.
And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll even help you turn the tables.
All you’d need to do is take care of me, Serenity Veylor. ”
My name on his mouth made my stomach twist.
I stepped back, revulsion tightening my throat. Enough. I had swallowed too much pain for too long—his words, Konflict’s indifference, the humiliation, the loneliness. Something quietly snapped inside of me, a thin thread, but it was enough to lead my steps off the balcony.
I didn’t slow down once I reentered the ballroom.
My eyes found him immediately. Konflict was standing with one of the family heads, Eleana lingering beside him with a smile that begged for attention.
Heat climbed my spine, not from desire this time, but from anger burning deep inside me.
I walked straight toward him, refusing to let anyone see the tremors underneath my skin.
“We need to talk,” I said, stopping in front of him and lifting my chin. “And you’re going to follow me unless you prefer I make a scene in front of every single person here.”
I didn’t wait for his answer.
I turned on my heel and walked toward a small room the staff used during private meetings. My pulse hammered through my chest, each beat pushing my fury higher. The door closed behind me with a soft click. Seconds later, his steps echoed across the tiled floor.
As soon as he entered, everything inside me erupted.
“You’re an idiot, Konflict,” I spat, the words ripping out of me before I could measure them.
“A coward, too. I thought you hated me for a reason, so I stayed quiet, stayed out of your way, endured everything you threw at me because losing your mother should have meant something. But today—today is the last time I swallow humiliation for you.”
His eyes narrowed, flickering with something like hurt, anger, or shock before he tucked it back behind his cold mask.
“You better watch your fucking tone. Don’t forget who the fuck I am or how deep my hate runs for you and every drop of Veylor blood in your veins. The second this marriage dies, I’m taking your fucking head and finally burying the Veylor line.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” I shot back, stepping closer, refusing to back away even when his stare sharpened enough to scrape bone. “You’ve made it clear every chance you got. Now let me make myself clear.”
His jaw tightened.
“You want revenge? You want the Veylor name erased? Do it. I don’t care anymore. You have one month left until this marriage dissolves, and I’m done living like a ghost in your world. I’m done waiting for you to remember I exist.”
He stared at me as if he had never seen me before.
“I’m going to live. And on the day of our one-year anniversary, I won’t hide. I’ll sit in the Korven estate, waiting for you to walk through that door and finally take what you’ve been craving.” I stayed calm, though my heart slammed against my ribs.
His breath shifted, barely, but I caught it.
“Because unlike you, Konflict Korven, I don’t run from anything.
Not even death. I face what’s in front of me while you’ve spent eleven months avoiding the woman you married.
Now tell me, between the two of us, who’s really weak?
” I didn’t give him time to answer. “Don’t answer that. I want you to process that shit.”
I walked out of the room with my spine straight and my heart breaking, leaving him standing there, stunned silent, staring after me as if the ground under him had shifted without warning.