Helena Chen stepped into the gleaming lobby of the Meridian Hotel like she owned the place—and perhaps, once upon a time, she might’ve said she did. Her heels clicked against polished marble, the echo sharp and commanding. She was elegance dressed in steel—flawless makeup, a coat tailored to perfection, and an expression that said she hadn’t come to play games.
The mirror-like elevator doors caught her reflection as she paused, adjusting the diamond earring on her left ear. Her skin, kissed by six months of Milanese spa treatments and distance, glowed. But beneath the surface—under the highlighter and the silk blouse—was something far less peaceful. Restlessness. Bitterness. Rage, sharpened with patience.
The elevator pinged open.
Penthouse.
Helena didn’t hesitate.
The top floor smell
