The shrill ring of a phone shattered the silence. Evangeline slid her thumb across the screen.

"Hello? Remi?"

"Evangeline! The first prototype for your collection is finally finished. Do you want to come by and try it on?"

"I’d love to! I’ll be there this afternoon." Evangeline’s voice hummed with a genuine, infectious energy.

"Great, I’ll be waiting!"

The call ended, and Evangeline turned to see her father watching her, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"What has you in such a good mood?" Edward Montgomery asked.

"Remi finished the sample for my new collection. Dad, you have no idea—I’m incredibly proud of this series. I know it’s going to be a hit. Once I make a name for myself, I’ll bring some real prestige to the family name."

Seeing his daughter glowing with such fierce determination, Edward felt a swell of pride. To see a young woman so passionate about her craft—that was the true meaning of a life well-lived.

"Good. You’ve always been my pride and joy, Evangeline."

"I know," she murmured, a flicker of steely resolve in her eyes.

She had been a princess raised in luxury, cushioned by her parents' unwavering support, but this time, the stakes were different. She wasn't just chasing a dream; she was forging a weapon.

That afternoon, Evangeline pulled her car into the studio parking lot. Remi was already outside, waving her over.

"Hurry up! It looks even better in person than it did on the sketches."

As Evangeline stepped inside, her eyes locked onto the mannequin standing near the fitting room. The dress caught the light, a deep, blood-red silk that seemed to vibrate with intensity.

"It’s stunning," she whispered.

"Get it off the mannequin, quick! Let’s get Evangeline into it," Remi commanded the staff.

The assistant moved with surgical precision, carefully lifting the gown from the model. Evangeline ducked into the changing room. When she stepped out, the room went silent.

The red silk clung to her, a masterpiece of structural tailoring that flowed like liquid fire. It was aggressive, sophisticated, and utterly intoxicating. The high slit in the skirt added a dangerous, sultry edge.

"Evangeline... my god," Remi breathed, circling her. "You look lethal. You’re practically radiating authority."

Evangeline caught her reflection and smiled. It was the first piece she’d designed since her rebirth—a garment born from the bitter ashes of her past life, fueled by the rage she’d finally learned to weaponize. It wasn't just fashion; it was armor.

She pulled out her phone, snapped a quick photo, and hit send to Marcellus. She wanted to see if he was as impressed as she was.

Miles away, in a glass-walled office, Marcellus Alexander stared at his screen. He hadn’t looked away for ten minutes. The woman in the photo was a paradox of lethal ambition and raw, feminine allure. A line of poetry flickered through his mind: *Like a crane taking flight, like a dragon in the mist.*

He finally tapped out a brief response.

Evangeline pouted, staring at the screen. *The man is as stingy with his words as he is with his mercy. Can’t he at least throw in an adjective?*

Remi nudged her, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Who are you texting? You’re making that face again—the one that says you’re absolutely smitten."

"A sweetheart," Evangeline teased.

"Ugh, look at you! I need a slice of that happiness," Remi chirped, batting her eyelashes in exaggeration.

"Stop it, you brat!" Evangeline lunged, tickling Remi’s side until they were both breathless with laughter.

They settled down, the tension replaced by the hum of productivity. "The film festival is next month," Evangeline said, her tone shifting to business. "Start the negotiations with Luna Hughes today."

"On it," Remi agreed. Then, she paused, her face falling. "Wait. You didn’t mean... Jonah, did you? When you said 'sweetheart'?"

"Do I look like I’ve lost my mind?" Evangeline shot back, a cold flicker in her eyes.

"Fair point. So, what’s going on with the little sister?"

"Jonah refuses to marry her."

Remi rolled her eyes. "The trash belongs with the trash, doesn't it? Why won't he bite?"

"Cassidy isn’t going to just give up," Evangeline said, a sharp, cunning smile touching her lips. "This is just the opening act."

Remi looked at her, truly looking at her. The old Evangeline had been all sunlight and naivety. This version of her was sharp, forged in fire. "You’ve changed, you know that?"

Evangeline felt a pang of warmth. She stepped into a hug, closing her eyes for a fleeting second. She would live for herself, and for the few who actually mattered. The rest? They were just pawns waiting to be cleared from the board.

***

That evening, the atmosphere in the Montgomery household was suffocating. Every servant had been dismissed. In the living room, Cassidy Montgomery was on her knees, sobbing before Edward.

Edward stood over her, his chest heaving, his face contorted in a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.

Evangeline walked in, her brow furrowing at the scene. She reached out to help Cassidy up, but the younger girl stayed rooted to the carpet, a statue of pathetic desperation.

"What’s happening?" Evangeline asked.

Marilyn Montgomery looked exhausted, her voice trembling. "She’s pregnant. And she refuses to terminate it."

Marilyn looked down at Cassidy, her eyes glassy with tears. "Cassidy, we raised you like a princess. How could you be so careless with yourself?"

"I know I messed up! But the baby is innocent. I can’t kill it!" Cassidy wailed.

"Does Jonah know?" Evangeline asked, her voice calm, devoid of judgment.

"He does," Cassidy sobbed. "He said he doesn't want it."

"Cassidy, are you insane?" Evangeline stepped closer, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "If he doesn't want the child, that baby is going to be a bastard. Do you have any idea what that does to your standing?"

"Sister, please!" Cassidy lunged forward, grabbing Evangeline’s leg, her fingers digging in like claws. "Please, just beg Mom and Dad to speak to the Harrisons! If Jonah marries me, everything will be fine!"

"Cassidy, get a grip," Edward growled, his voice booming through the room. "You’ve already dragged your reputation through the mud. Don’t you dare expect the Montgomerys to salvage your dignity by begging the Harrisons to take you in."

The rejection hit Cassidy like a physical blow. She collapsed, her forehead pressing against the cold hardwood.

"Why is it always about the reputation?" she shrieked, the mask of the innocent girl finally cracking. "I never dared to ask for anything! Everything I had, I got because you gave me the leftovers after Evangeline was done with them! Nobody ever asked what *I* wanted! Now I want Jonah, and I’m just supposed to let that go?"

Her face was purple with rage, her breath coming in ragged, ugly gasps.

"So, that’s how you repay us for raising you?" Marilyn sighed, her voice turning icy.

Cassidy stared at them for a long moment, her teeth grit so hard it looked like her jaw might snap. Without a word, she pulled herself up and stumbled toward the stairs.

Evangeline stepped up to her father, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Dad, don’t let your blood pressure spike over this."

"The girl has clearly lost her mind," Marilyn muttered, wiping her eyes.

"Maybe we should just have a word with the Harrisons," Evangeline suggested softly. "Just to be sure. If nothing else, we’ll have done our part as a family."

Edward let out a long, ragged sigh, his shoulders sagging. He had loved her for years, despite everything. It was a weakness, one Evangeline was perfectly happy to exploit.