Rain drizzled across the penthouse windows, soft and steady, like the ticking of time Alina could no longer ignore.
Since the interview with Verité, everything had changed. She was no longer just "the girl Leonard married out of obligation." She was Alina Shen, the enigma, the woman behind the CEO. Her face was splashed across tabloids and fashion blogs. Strangers debated her life like it was their weekend gossip. And in the middle of it all—Leonard Xu remained distant.
He hadn't said a word to her in two days.
Not even a cold goodnight.
She didn't care. At least, that's what she told herself.
Grace appeared midmorning with a pale blue garment bag draped over one arm and a clipboard in the other.
"There's a charity gala tonight," she said briskly, placing the bag on Alina's bed. "Leonard won't attend."
Alina glanced up from her tablet. "Then why are you telling me?"
"Because you are the guest of honor."
Alina blinked. "Excuse me?"
Grace smiled thinly. "You were requested personally by the chairwoman of the Metropolitan Women's Foundation. Apparently, your story has inspired several board members. They think you're... empowering."
Alina nearly scoffed. "Because I survived marrying a CEO?"
"Because you didn't let it break you."
Alina stood and walked over to unzip the garment bag. Inside was a floor-length satin gown in midnight blue. Simple, elegant, powerful.
A dress meant to be seen.
"Will Celeste be there?" she asked without looking up.
Grace hesitated. "…Yes."
Alina's fingers paused at the hem. Then she smiled—cool and composed.
"Then I'll make sure she sees me."
The gala was held in a glass-roofed conservatory, the ceiling dripping with fairy lights, the air perfumed with orchids and money. Alina stepped out of the car with a grace honed from weeks of scrutiny.
She wore the midnight-blue gown like armor. Her hair was swept back in a low chignon, her makeup sculpted and flawless. Cameras flashed the second her heels touched the marble floor.
She didn't flinch.
She had promised herself: If she was going to be watched, then she'd make every second worth it.
Inside, murmurs followed her like shadows.
"That's her."
"She's even more stunning in person."
"I thought she'd be more timid."
Alina smiled and greeted every donor, politician, and heiress like she belonged among them. Because tonight, she did.
And then—Celeste appeared.
Celeste Zhou floated across the ballroom like a swan in blood-red silk. She looked immaculate, lips scarlet and smile venomous.
"Alina," she purred, taking her hand like they were old friends. "You look… surprisingly radiant. I suppose good lighting hides many things."
Alina smiled serenely. "And red suits you. It matches your envy."
Celeste's smile didn't crack, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"I heard you're the face of Verité now. You've come a long way from being invisible."
Alina leaned in. "Funny. I heard you used to be the future Mrs. Xu. Seems we've traded places."
Gasps rippled around them. But Alina didn't care.
Let them watch.
Let them listen.
Celeste's nails dug slightly into her champagne glass. "Don't get too comfortable, Alina. This world has a way of chewing up girls like you."
Alina met her gaze squarely. "Then I'll grow teeth."
Midway through the evening, the chairwoman took the stage to introduce the main honoree—Alina.
As the spotlight landed on her, a hush fell over the crowd.
Alina stepped forward, not with practiced charm, but with calm authenticity. Her speech was short, heartfelt, and devoid of fluff. She spoke not about being a wife, or a figurehead—but about women starting over, surviving the impossible, and finding power in vulnerability.
And when she finished, the applause was thunderous.
But not all claps were born of praise.
Some, like Celeste's, were slow and mocking.
And others—like Daniel's—were full of calculated interest.
Daniel Tan leaned against the bar, swirling his whiskey, watching Alina with a smirk. As Leonard's childhood friend and silent investor in Xu Holdings, he knew the inner politics of their circle better than anyone.
And he knew weakness when he saw it.
But tonight, Alina didn't look weak. She looked like a queen freshly risen from fire.
He approached her casually after the speech, offering his drink.
"You surprised me tonight," he said. "I almost believed everything you said."
She took a sip of water and eyed him coolly. "You don't strike me as someone who believes in much."
"I believe in potential. And right now, you have a lot of it."
She raised a brow. "Is that a compliment or a warning?"
He chuckled. "A proposition. You ever get tired of Leonard's cold shoulder, come find me. I know how to keep a woman warm—and relevant."
She set her glass down, voice icy. "You know, Daniel… it's funny how many men mistake ambition for invitation. I'm not interested. Not in you. Not in games."
His smile faltered for a moment before returning.
"Suit yourself. But the game will find you anyway."
Later that night, after the gala ended and the lights dimmed, Alina sat in the back of the black car alone.
Her phone buzzed.
Leonard Xu: You looked good tonight. Everyone's talking about you.
She stared at the message for a long moment, then typed:
Alina Shen: And you? What did you think?
She watched the three little dots appear. Then disappear. Then nothing.
No reply.
She powered off the phone.
Her heart was calm, but heavy.
She hadn't dressed for Leonard tonight.
She hadn't spoken for him, or smiled for him, or burned Celeste with clever words for him.
She had done it for herself.
But a tiny, pathetic part of her still wanted him to see her.
And that part stung like hell.
The next morning, photos of the gala dominated every news feed.
"Alina Shen Steals the Show in Midnight Gown""From Shadow to Spotlight: The CEO's Wife Emerges""Celeste Zhou Overshadowed by New Social Queen"
But it was the last headline that froze her blood.
"Scandal Brewing? Alina Shen Seen Speaking Intimately with Daniel Tan"
There it was.
A photo of her and Daniel—cropped perfectly to look like a flirtation.
One that Leonard would definitely see.
And just as she feared, her phone rang.
It wasn't a call.
It was a summons.
From Leonard.