Heiress Betrayed: My Sweet Revenge Wedding

Haven Holden POV:

Clara had been my staunchest supporter and harshest critic through the entire seven-year saga with Ewing. She' d been there for every tearful phone call, every canceled plan, every holiday I' d spent alone.

"I still can' t believe you followed him to Denver," she said, shaking her head in remembered disbelief. "You, Haven Holden, whose family practically owns Manhattan, hiding your light under a bushel in some second-tier city for a man who wouldn' t even cross the street for you."

"I tried to get him to stay," I admitted, the memory now feeling distant and foolish. "I told him Holden Properties would give him a position, a real chance to build a name for himself in the most competitive market in the world."

"And let me guess," Clara drawled, "he said no."

"He said all his friends were in Denver. That he couldn' t just leave his life behind." I let out a wry laugh. "He suggested we try long-distance."

"The coward' s way out."

"I couldn' t stand the thought of it," I confessed. "I was so scared of losing him. I just wanted to be with him, every day." I had been so sure, so naively certain, that our love could conquer anything, even my own self-immolation. The only piece of Clara's advice I' d taken was to keep my family' s wealth a secret. I wanted him to love me for me, not for my trust fund. I had this romantic fantasy that one day, after he' d made it on his own terms, I would bring him home and reveal everything, and it would be like a fairy tale.

Now, the whole idea just seemed pathetic.

"Well, you' ve definitely given him a shock," Clara said, her tone shifting to one of satisfaction. "I told you blocking him was the right move. So, what' s the verdict? Do you think he' s actually sorry, or just sorry he got caught?"

"He' s not sorry," I said with certainty. "He' s just pissed off that he lost control. He thought I was a sure thing, a safety net he could always fall back on. Now that I' m gone, his ego is bruised."

"Speaking of his ego," Clara said, a new, more serious note in her voice. "You know he' s still coming to New York, right? He and his little parasite are starting at Vanguard next week."

My stomach tightened. "I know."

"Aren' t you worried? A showdown seems inevitable."

"We' ll be in different departments, different buildings even," I explained. "The chances of us running into each other are slim." After my engagement to Kasen, I had accepted a position at Vanguard Innovations. It was a logical step, a way to understand the business our families were now formally tied to, and a chance to build something for myself again. Kasen had offered me a senior role, a VP of architectural integration, but I had refused.

"I want to earn it, Kasen," I' d told him. "I' ve spent seven years in the background. I need to know I can still stand on my own."

So I started as a project manager, determined to prove my worth on my own merits. I wanted to meet him as an equal, not as a woman who owed her position to him.

"And even if I do see him," I told Clara, my voice firm, "it doesn' t matter. He' s a ghost, Clara. He has no power over me anymore."

The first few weeks at Vanguard were a blur of activity. I threw myself into my work, re-learning the rhythms of a high-powered corporate environment. I was rusty, my confidence shaky after years of playing a supporting role, but the challenge was invigorating.

Kasen was a ghost of a different kind. He was incredibly busy, often in meetings until late at night. We operated in our own orbits, a silent understanding passing between us. We didn' t need to perform the role of a couple. But his presence was a quiet, steadying force in my life. When I worked late, his assistant would appear with a container of my favorite soup from a small deli near my old apartment. On weekends, we had dinner with our respective families, presenting a united, harmonious front. It was comfortable. It was easy. There was a respectful distance between us that felt safe.

I barely thought of Ewing.

I did, however, find my thoughts drifting to Bree. I was morbidly curious about how she was faring. A quick, discreet inquiry with a friend in HR confirmed my suspicions. Bree Campbell had not been hired through the normal channels. There was no record of her even having an official interview. She was a "special consideration," a favor called in by a promising new hire from the Denver office.

My curiosity was fleeting. I had my own career to build, my own life to reclaim. Her schemes were no longer my concern.

Until, one afternoon, they were.