Ophelia jolted upright in bed, her heart hammering in her chest, the echo of Cordelia Grey’s voice still lingering like a venomous whisper in her mind.

"He loved her more, didn’t he?"

Clutching her chest, Ophelia tried to catch her breath. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she stared wide-eyed around the dim hotel room. The silence that greeted her only worsened the panic.

“Sen?” she called out, her voice shaking.

No response.

She threw off the covers and padded barefoot across the plush carpet, peering into the bathroom, then the balcony, and finally the hallway.

Empty.

Her fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone and tapped Sen’s number. Each ring tightened the anxiety in her chest until his voice finally filtered through the line.

“Ophelia, honey—calm down. What’s wrong?” Sen asked, his tone more distracted than concerned.

“Where are you? Why did you leave me alone?” she snapped, unable to keep the quiver from her voice.

“I told you I had an important meeting. Don’t panic. I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t go near her again,” Ophelia whispered into the phone, her voice raw with fear. “Don’t...”

But Sen didn’t answer. The line had gone dead.

Across town at the training center, Cordelia was dancing like a woman possessed. Step after step, beat after beat—her body moved with precision and fire. Sweat clung to her skin, and her chest heaved with effort as the music finally cut off.

“You’ve been at it for over an hour. Take five,” the choreographer called out.

Lia nodded, grabbing a bottle of water and pouring half of it down her throat. Amy approached, holding out a boxed lunch, but Lia waved her away.

“I’m fine,” she said, already slipping past her assistant. “I’ll be outside for a bit.”

The hallway was cooler, quieter. Lia descended the back staircase slowly, needing a breath of air—and a break from the façade she wore so flawlessly. But as she reached the landing, her steps halted.

Voices.

Sen’s voice.

She ducked behind the corner, her ears sharpening.

“Ophelia, calm down,” he was saying. “I’m not meeting her. This is business, that’s all.”

Lia heard the high-pitched static of Ophelia’s voice screaming through the speaker. Her lips curled into a bitter smile. She’s losing it.

Then Sen looked up and saw her.

His voice stuttered to silence, and he lowered the phone. “Cordelia,” he said, startled.

Lia offered a serene smile, stepping out from the shadows. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just out for air.”

Sen looked conflicted, his gaze sweeping her face, lingering a moment too long.

“It’s alright,” he muttered.

“Your wife told me everything,” Lia continued, her voice honeyed with fake innocence. “About how I reminded you of someone—April, was it?”

Sen stiffened, and his eyes grew dark.

“She said you loved April a lot.”

Cordelia laughed, just enough to pierce the moment with a sharp edge. “It must be strange… seeing me like this. I almost wish I’d known her. She must’ve been unforgettable.”

“Your words seem... unkind,” Sen frowned.

“Oh?” Lia blinked, feigning surprise. “That wasn’t my intention. I apologize.”

The air turned cold. Sen didn’t answer, only shook his head and murmured something about work before walking away.

Lia watched him leave, the smile on her lips slowly melting into something darker.

“You can mourn April all you want,” she whispered once he was out of earshot. “But I’m still here. And I’ll be the one you can’t escape.”

Her fingers brushed the still-tender scars hidden beneath her sleeves, but she didn’t wince.

This pain?
It was fuel.

Her revenge had only just begun.