The press meeting was supposed to be controlled. I had my notes. I knew the questions. I wore the Vane crest. But when the doors slammed open, everything changed. Dorian Marell walked in like a storm.
“Are we seriously pretending this is normal?” he said, loud enough to slice through the cameras and conversations. “This circus. This entire performance.” Every head turned. Reporters forgot their questions. Flashes stopped mid-strobe. My name had been the focus, but now it was his voice filling the room.
He walked right down the center aisle. His eyes were locked on Jasper, sharp and accusing.
“So this is what it takes now? Sleeping with a bodyguard to stay relevant?”
The words hit the air like poison. I didn’t react. But inside, my chest burned. Has he seen me looking at Jasper during the announcement? Was I that obvious?
“Careful, Dorian,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You’re starting to sound like your mother.”
Gasps followed. Someone dropped a pen. The cameras blinked back to life, hungry for scandal. Jasper stayed still, but I could feel the tension ripple through him.
Dorian moved closer. “You’re using him. Just like you used me.” I stood.
“He’s protected more of me than you ever did.”
He flinched. Just barely. Just enough for me to know I’d hit something real. But he recovered fast.
“I did what I had to do,” he snapped. “I was protecting my family.”
“No,” I said. “You were protecting yourself.”
Jasper stepped forward. His tone was calm, but it carried weight.
“That’s enough.”
Dorian glared. “Stay out of it.”
“She doesn’t belong to you,” Jasper replied.
The room felt electric. Every breath held. Every camera pointed.
I turned to Jasper. “We’re leaving.”
He nodded once. We walked out together without looking back. But I could feel Dorian’s stare burning through my spine.
Outside the press room, the silence wasn’t any easier. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Jasper stepped in front of me, quiet and steady.
“If you let Dorian near you again,” he said, “he’ll take everything. All over again.” I knew he was right.
Later that evening, I sat in my office trying to refocus. I thought it was over. I thought Dorian’s pride had taken the hit and he’d walk away. But I was wrong.
There was a knock at my door. One of Calan’s aides entered, holding a folder. “This just came through. You need to see it.”
I opened it slowly. At first, the words didn’t register. Then they did. Dorian had filed a legal motion to reverse our annulment.
I sat down slowly, letting the quiet press against my skin. I kept hearing Dorian’s voice in that room, sharp and full of old power over me. The way he twisted the moment, turning it into a scene. He knew how to do that. How to steal attention, how to make my name feel smaller when paired with his.
He didn’t come for me because he missed me. He came because I’m valuable now. Because I’m no longer the girl in the corner seat, forgotten and quiet. Now I’m someone people watch. Someone who can’t be ignored. And he doesn’t know how to lose something he used to treat like nothing.
I opened the folder again, just to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. But there it was. His signature. His seal. His official request to undo the cleanest break I’d ever made. My breath caught. Not from fear—but from anger. A deep, tired anger that sat low in my stomach.
He had his chance. Years of chances. And all he gave me were cold shoulders, empty looks, and silence when I needed a voice. But now that I’ve stood up on my own, he wants to act like I belong to him again. Like power means possession.
Jasper came, holding two cups of tea. He just handed me one and sat across from me like we’d done this a hundred times.
“He’s scared,” I said finally. “Not of losing me. Of being left behind.”
Jasper nodded. “That’s what people like him fear most. Being forgotten.”
I looked down at the file again. “He thinks a signature will erase the damage.”
“It won’t,” Jasper said. “But it might be enough to make people doubt you.”
“Then we’ll make sure they don’t.”
I saw it in the way he looked at me. Steady. Unmoving. Unafraid. And I knew the fight wasn’t just legal. It was personal.
The room felt colder after Jasper left, even though nothing had changed. I sat there, eyes on the folder, still feeling the heat of what Dorian had done. Not just the press stunt. Not just the accusation. But this—this legal move. This formal clawing at what had already been buried.
I stood and paced slowly to the window. The rain had stopped, but the glass was streaked, like the day itself couldn’t hold still. I crossed my arms and let my mind run through every version of what Dorian thought he could accomplish.
He doesn’t want me back. He wants control. He wants to make a mess. To claim a narrative. To take something sharp and turn it dull just to prove that he still can. The version of me he knew—quiet, small, unseen—is gone. And he doesn’t know how to speak to the version that replaced her.
I thought about the people who’d seen the confrontation. The press. The advisors. My father. I thought about how quickly rumors move in Velmera. I had spent months building something solid. One public fight, and the cracks would be all anyone talked about.
I picked up the folder again and set it down, harder than I meant to. Jasper walked back in, expression unreadable.
“He’s hoping this makes you panic,” he said. “If you start reacting, he wins.”
“I’m not panicking,” I said. “I’m thinking.” He nodded once.
“Then think like an heir. Not a woman he used to know.”
I let the words settle before I looked up.
“He’s protected more of me than you ever did,” I whispered under my breath, repeating what I had said in the room. Jasper didn’t respond. We both knew Dorian had heard it loud and clear.
But now the damage was legal. And official.
Dorian had filed a motion to reverse our annulment. He wanted me back so desperately, that now he was willing to burn it all.