Chapter 3
I hadn't seen Julian Ashford in ten years.
Yet the moment I saw that handwriting, memories I had buried for a decade came rushing back.
The library where they had skipped lectures to rewrite each other's scripts.
The cheap coffee shop where he insisted every story deserved a happy ending.
The rainy afternoon he promised, "When I come back, I'll build a stage big enough for your name."
Then, his family had sent him overseas overnight.
No goodbyes.
No explanations.
A week later, heartbroken and hollow, I married Daniel.
I firmly folded the invitation and slipped it back into the envelope, my fingers trembling slightly.
The past had already cost me everything I ever cared about, and I wasn't about to let myself drown in it again.
⸻
My phone rang before I even reached the taxi stand. It was an unfamiliar number.
"Natalie Brooks?"
"Speaking."
"This is Laura from Bright Horizon Entertainment," a crisp, professional voice echoed through the speaker.
I frowned.
Bright Horizon was one of the largest and most influential television production companies in the country. "I'm calling to personally invite you to tomorrow night's Ashford Charity Gala."
"I've already received an invitation."
There was a brief, awkward silence before Laura let out a nervous laugh. "I know. Our chairman specifically asked me to call and make absolutely sure you would attend."
My grip tightened around the phone. "Your chairman?"
"Mr. Julian Ashford." Laura hesitated for a second before dropping her professional tone. "He also said... no matter what happens tonight, don't leave early."
The call ended, leaving me standing frozen on the sidewalk as the city noise swirled around me.
I had no idea what Julian was planning, but one thing was dead certain: a man like him hadn't spent ten years looking for me just to exchange pleasantries over champagne.
⸻
Meanwhile, inside the CEO's office at Carter Enterprises.
Sophia walked in carrying two cups of artisan coffee.
"You missed lunch again," she said with a practiced pout.
Daniel smiled faintly, rubbing his temples. "I've been busy."
As she placed the coffee on his mahogany desk, her eyes caught the crisp edges of the divorce agreement lying right in the center.
She gasped softly. "You two fought?"
"It's nothing to worry about. Natalie moved out."
Sophia's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before melting into a pool of perfect sympathy. "Oh, Daniel... I'm so sorry. You still love her, don't you?"
Daniel didn't answer because, truthfully, he didn't know.
For years, Natalie had simply been a permanent, invisible fixture in his life—
the hot breakfast waiting every morning, the crisply ironed shirts hanging in his closet, the medicine placed silently on his nightstand before he even realized he had a fever.
She had become as ordinary and expected as the lights in the house.
You never truly notice the light until you're suddenly standing in pitch darkness.
Daniel shook the thought away."She'll come back."
Sophia smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Of course she will."
But behind that sweet smile, her manicured nails dug fiercely into her own palms.
⸻
She couldn't let Natalie come back.
Six months ago, returning to Daniel hadn't been about rekindling a lost romance; it had been about seizing a golden opportunity.
After years of struggling through humiliating auditions and irrelevant commercials, Sophia had discovered that Daniel's company was branching into film investments.
More importantly, industry whispers claimed that the legendary, anonymous writer behind the global phenomenon Broken Wings was preparing a highly anticipated second season.
Daniel was merely her stepping stone. The female lead in that script was the real prize.
⸻
That evening，I stood in front of the mirror inside a luxury hotel suite.
The woman reflecting back at her looked breathtakingly unfamiliar. Elegant. Radiant. Utterly alive.
I fastened a pair of vintage diamond earrings my mother had left me years ago.
The last time I wore them...
Was my wedding.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
A high-end stylist entered, unzipping a velvet garment bag to reveal a midnight-blue evening gown that was both devastatingly simple and utterly timeless.
"Mr. Ashford had this delivered for you, Ms. Brooks."
Attached to the zipper was a small, heavy card with a single handwritten sentence: You never needed anyone else's name to shine.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Ten years hadn't changed a single thing; Julian still knew exactly how to speak directly to my soul.
⸻
The Ashford Charity Gala was a blinding sea of celebrities, ruthless investors, and flashing cameras.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the grand ballroom as Sophia stepped onto the red carpet clinging to Daniel’s arm, wearing a flashy silver couture gown.
Reporters swarmed them like sharks.
"Mr. Carter! Is Ms. Sophia your new leading lady?"Daniel smiled politely.
Daniel smiled smoothly. "She's a very close friend."
Sophia lowered her head with rehearsed shyness, eating up the camera flashes.
Inside the ballroom, the whispers were venomous but favorable to her.
Everyone assumed the billionaire's housewife couldn't keep up with his rising empire, and Sophia was already being treated as the new queen.
Tonight was supposed to be her ultimate triumph.
Then, the entrance of the ballroom fell strangely, palpably quiet.
One by one, the crowd parted for me.
As I stepped inside, the heavy silk of my midnight-blue gown brushed against my ankles, my long dark hair cascading over one shoulder.
I carried myself with an aura of effortless, unbothered confidence.
I didn't look like an abandoned housewife fleeing a broken marriage; I looked like a woman who had finally remembered she owned the world.
Across the room, Daniel's conversation died squarely in his throat.
For a brief, agonizing second, he literally forgot how to breathe as his eyes locked onto me.
I knew what was running through his mind. Was this... Natalie? The same woman he had casually dismissed as not belonging at high-society events looked as though she had been born to rule them.
Sophia noticed the dangerous shift in Daniel's eyes.
Her perfect smile stiffened into a rigid mask, and she marched forward toward me before anyone else could intercept.
"Natalie!" Sophia’s voice was intentionally loud, carrying clearly to the nearby reporters.
"I certainly didn't expect to see you here."
I smiled politely, my gaze sweeping over her flashy gown as if she were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Neither did I."
Sophia deliberately glanced toward the security at the entrance. "I mean, this gala is strictly invitation-only for industry leaders. I wasn't aware they were handing them out to... homemakers."
The implication hung heavily in the air.
Several reporters quietly raised their cameras, waiting for the humiliated ex-wife to flee the venue in tears.
I met Sophia's venomous stare with absolute calm. "I suppose the host wanted me here."
Sophia let out a condescending laugh, her eyes gleaming with malice. "The Ashford family is incredibly selective, Natalie. They don't just let anyone—"
"She's my guest."
A deep, commanding voice sliced through the tension like a blade.
The ballroom fell into a stunned, breathless silence as a tall man in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo stepped out from the VIP crowd.
His mere presence carried a gravitational pull that forced every eye in the room to him.
I saw Daniel recognize him instantly, the color completely draining from his face.
Julian Ashford. The billionaire heir. The ruthless kingmaker every entrepreneur in the city—including my arrogant husband—was desperate to impress.
Julian bypassed the crowd entirely, stopping exclusively beside me.
He didn't spare a single glance at Sophia or Daniel; his dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the deafening noise of the entire ballroom seemed to fade into nothingness.
Julian smiled, his usually cold demeanor melting into something dangerously soft as he looked down at me. "You came."
"You remembered I hate being late," I replied, a genuine smile finally touching my lips.
"I remember everything."
Before the crowd could even process our intimate exchange, Julian extended a gloved hand toward me. "May I have this dance?"
A few feet away, I heard the sharp sound of glass fracturing.
Daniel's fingers had tightened unconsciously around his champagne glass until the fragile crystal stem cracked beneath the pressure, slicing right into his palm.
He had spent five years treating me like a disposable shadow, absolutely confident I would starve in the dark without his light.
Across the ballroom, dozens of cameras turned toward us at once, flashes exploding like a thunderstorm. Every headline for tomorrow morning was about to change.
Daniel had come tonight to secure the survival of his company through Julian's pocketbook.
But as he watched the most powerful man in the industry guide his "penniless" ex-wife to the center of the floor, did he realize that his precious business was already dead in the water?