Twins for cold hearted CEO

*THE DRESS ON THE WINDOW*

Elaina pulled out her phone and dialed her friend.

“Lyra,” she said when the call connected. “Can I come over?”

Lyra Chen didn’t ask questions. Twenty minutes later, Elaina was on her friend’s couch, a cashmere blanket over her legs, chamomile tea going cold in her hands.

“He said our night together was a mistake,” Elaina whispered. Her voice was hollow. “To his friends.”

Lyra’s jaw tightened. “He doesn’t deserve you, girl. You deserve better.”

“Yeah.” Elaina’s hand went to her stomach. “I need air. Can we… can we just walk?”

They did. Down the street, past the glowing storefronts of the high-end district. It was after 9 PM. The city was alive.

Then Lyra stopped. “Elaina.”

“What?”

Lyra didn’t answer. She just nodded across the street.

To _La Maison Deva_. The most exclusive boutique in the city.

And through the floor-to-ceiling glass, under the warm lights, was Damian.

He wasn’t alone.

Vanessa stood in front of a mirror, twirling in a pastel gown. Damian stood behind her, hands on her waist, smiling. The same smile he hadn’t given Elaina in three years. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Vanessa laughed and tilted her head up.

He kissed her.

Right there. In the window. Like he wasn’t married.

Elaina’s breath stopped.

_He doesn't remember you. He will never love me. Stop wasting time just because of your little wishes and promises._

Cassian’s words repeated in her mind. Her mouth curved into a sad smile.

She just watched for one second longer. Watched Vanessa’s hand slide up his chest. Watched him look at her like she was the sun.

Then she turned to Lyra.

“Let’s go get my gown for tomorrow’s birthday,” she said.

“Elaina, are you sure?”

Elaina was already crossing the street.

The bell over _La Maison Deva_ chimed when she walked in.

Damian and Vanessa didn’t notice. They were too busy. His lips were on her neck now.

The sales associate rushed over. “Madame, we’re actually— oh! Mrs. Black! I didn’t see you there.”

Damian’s head snapped up. His eyes met Elaina’s in the mirror.

For one second, he looked guilty. Panicked. Like a boy caught stealing.

Then his face hardened. He stepped away from Vanessa. “Ellie. What are you doing here?”

Elaina didn’t look at him. She looked past him. At the dress hanging on the center display.

Black. Silk. Backless. A slit up to the thigh. The kind of dress that didn’t ask for attention. It commanded it.

“I’ll take that one,” she said to the sales associate. Her voice was perfectly calm. “In my size.”

Vanessa scoffed. “That’s not really your style, Ellie. It’s a bit… much for you.”

Elaina finally looked at her. Then at Damian. At his hand still hovering near Vanessa’s waist. Like he couldn’t decide who to claim.

“You’re right, Miss Hale,” Elaina said softly. She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not Ellie’s style.”

She handed her black card to the associate. “Wrap it. I’ll take it .”

Damian’s jaw clenched. “We need to talk.”

“No. You still have to accompany Miss Hale,” Elaina said. She took the garment bag. “Let’s go.” She turned to Lyra, who just watched the show.

They walked out.

That night, Damian didn’t come home.

Elaina didn’t wait up. Instead, she laid the black dress on her bed. Next to the velvet box from her old suitcase.

She slept for the first time in years.

Morning came.

Elaina looked in the mirror.

Ellie Ray was gone.

She slipped into the dress from _La Maison Deva_. It fit like vengeance. The silk was cold against her skin. The back was bare. The slit showed her leg when she walked.

Last, the necklace.

She opened the velvet box.

The _Tears of the Night_. 50 carats of black diamonds surrounded by white diamonds. The center stone was the size of a thumbnail. It had sold at the Geneva auction four years ago for 1.3 billion. Anonymous buyer.

She clasped it around her throat. It was heavy. Cold. Perfect.

She picked up her clutch and she walked out the door.

The Black mansion was drowning in pastels and champagne. Three hundred guests. String quartet. Madeline Black was busy chatting with her guests.

Elaina walked in.

The room _shifted_.

Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. A fork clattered to a plate.

"Who is that?"

"Do you know her?"

"Which family is she from?"

She kept walking, her head high. The slit in her dress flashing with each step.

Damian was by the bar with his friends. Henry, Cole, Mark. His groomsmen. The same men who laughed yesterday when he called her _a mistake_.

Cole saw her first. His whiskey glass stopped halfway to his mouth.

“Holy s**t,” he breathed. “Dami… is that… is that your wife?”

Damian turned.

His jaw dropped.

He actually took a step back like he’d been shoved.

Because standing there wasn’t his quiet, mousy wife. Wasn’t _Ellie_ in her beige cardigans and hopeful eyes.

This was a stranger. A queen.

The black silk. The bare back. The diamonds at her throat throwing fire under the chandeliers. Her lips were red. Her eyes were cold. And she was beautiful.

The kind of beautiful that made men forget their own names.

Mark let out a low whistle. “Damn, Dami. Since when is your wife… that?”

Henry elbowed Damian, not looking away from Elaina. “Bro. She’s hotter than Vanessa. No offense. What the hell are you still looking at Vanessa for?”

_Hotter than Vanessa._

The words hit Damian like a slap.

“Look at that necklace,” one of the guests muttered. “That’s the _Tears of the Night_. I saw it at the Geneva auction four years ago. It went for 1.3 billion. Private buyer. No one knew who.”

“One point three _billion_?” Cole choked on his drink. “Dami, what the hell? Is she an heiress? Is she from some old money European family? Because that’s not department store jewelry, man. And it was before you guys got married. How did it end up in her hands?”

Damian couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

_How come he never saw that side of her?_ The thought was violent.

Vanessa appeared at his side, in baby pink. She saw the dress first. Her face drained of color. Because she recognized it. It was the display piece. The one she’d said was _too much_ for Ellie.

Now Ellie was wearing it. And she looked like a goddess.

Vanessa’s nails dug into Damian’s arm. “Damian, you promised we would have the first dance together.”

Elaina’s eyes met his across the room.

She didn’t smile. She didn’t wave. She just looked.

And Damian felt it. Three years of indifference. Three years of _“Just my wife on paper”_ crashing into him at once.

“Elaina?” Madeline’s voice cut through the silence. She was staring. “Child… is that you?”

Elaina walked past Damian. Past his friends. Past Vanessa. Heading toward Madeline with a breathtaking smile.

She picked up a glass of sparkling cider from a passing tray. She kissed her cheeks. "Happy birthday, Grandma."

"Look at you. I almost didn't recognize you. You look stunning," Madeline said, taking her left hand in hers.