Ella adjusted the mic clipped to her collar as the talk show host smiled too brightly across from her.
"Ella Shen, overnight sensation, the woman who made the world cry with one truth. Tell us… how does it feel to rise from the ashes?"
She smiled—tight, poised, perfect.
"It doesn't feel like rising," she said calmly. "It feels like remembering who I was before the fire."
The studio audience erupted in applause.
But behind the blinding stage lights, in the shadows of backstage…
Leon stood.
Unseen.
Watching.
Always watching.
He didn't belong in her light anymore.
This was her stage, her story now.
He had made peace with being the ghost that followed from a distance, sweeping the path before her, clearing the mines he'd once buried himself.
And yet—
Every smile she gave that wasn't his felt like a wound that never closed.
Every time she stood taller, it was a reminder:She was strong in spite of him.
Not because of him.
She had become a phoenix—not born of his flame, but from the one he forced her into.
And Leon?
He was the ash the world forgot to sweep.
The whisper in a museum filled with cheers.
The broken anthem behind her triumph.
Backstage, one assistant rushed in with a phone.
"Miss Shen—emergency. It's about Mr. Hart."
Ella froze.
The world outside chanted her name.
But inside, her heartbeat stuttered.
"What happened?"
The assistant swallowed.
"He disappeared. Left everything. Company shares, homes, titles… He's gone off-grid."
And on the dressing table, beneath the bouquet sent anonymously—
A letter.
No name. Just five words.
"This time, I set you free."