Who Are You Again?

Chapter 10

Jae sat in the backseat of the sleek black car, staring down at the diamond bracelet clinging to her wrist like a shackle. Jonah’s gift was exquisite—too exquisite. Each gemstone caught the streetlights as they passed, refracting tiny flashes of light onto her skin. It was beautiful, but it felt like a brand.

She clenched her jaw, fingers moving to unfasten the clasp.

Beside her, Kellin was watching. His arms were folded, his expression unreadable, but his sharp gaze flicked from the bracelet to her face. “Thinking of keeping it?”

Jae scoffed. “Not in this lifetime.”

She rolled down the window. The cool Parisian air rushed in, sending a shiver down her spine. But there was no hesitation when she lifted her arm and flung the bracelet into the night.

The diamonds caught one last glimmer of light before disappearing into the darkness.

Kellin let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Jae exhaled, feeling lighter—as if she had just rid herself of one more chain tying her to Jonah’s world.

Jonah stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Parisian suite, his expression as cold as the glass of whiskey in his hand. The lights of the city flickered below him, but he wasn’t looking at them.

He was replaying the moment the tracker went offline.

Jae had thrown the bracelet away. Not misplaced it. Not lost it. She had discarded it—discarded him.

The betrayal burned hotter than the liquor in his throat.

He set his glass down with a calculated slowness, his fingers pressing into the smooth surface of the table. Then, without warning—

CRASH.

The tumbler shattered against the marble floor, amber liquid seeping into the cracks.

The sound echoed through the silent suite. His jaw clenched, his breathing slow and controlled, but his pulse pounded with a dark fury.

Jae had made her choice.

And she had chosen wrong.

His mind raced through his next steps, formulating his strategy like a chess master poised for checkmate.

Lucas had been in his way from the start. The man was too skilled, too prepared. Vivienne’s influence ran deep, but even she had weaknesses.

Jae was running.

But Jonah was coming.

And when he found her, there wouldn’t be an escape this time.

The atmosphere inside the bar was thick with expensive perfume, the clink of crystal glasses, and the hum of low conversation.

Anessa tilted her champagne flute idly, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. She wasn’t thinking about Jonah. She refused to.

Tonight, she was someone else. Someone desired, admired, wanted.

Across from her, he watched her with keen interest.

Étienne Laurent.

He was older, powerful, and carried himself with a confidence that Jonah never had to fake. His attention on her was heavy, deliberate—intentional.

"You're different from the women I usually entertain," Étienne mused, his voice rich with amusement.

Anessa leaned in slightly, the dim lighting casting shadows over her bare shoulders. “And what kind of woman do you usually entertain?”

His smirk was slow, knowing. “Ones who play games they don’t know how to win.”

She arched a brow, taking a slow sip of champagne. “And you think I don’t know how to win?”

Étienne’s gaze flickered to the deep red lipstick staining the rim of her glass. He reached for her wrist, his touch light but undeniably possessive.

“I think you’re playing a game you don’t even realize you’re in.”

A shiver of excitement ran down her spine.

Jonah would be furious if he knew where she was—who she was with.

And for the first time in years, she didn’t care.

Let him burn.

Jae slipped into her bedroom, her mind still tangled in the events of the night. The masquerade, Jonah, the warning from Vivienne—it was all swirling in her head like a storm she couldn’t quite escape.

She barely registered Kellin following her inside until the door clicked shut behind him.

“You okay?” His voice was soft but edged with something deeper.

She turned to him, studying the way the dim light cast shadows across his face. He had been her constant, her shield. And yet, there was something more between them—something unspoken, something waiting.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.

Kellin’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his stance. His usual smirk was absent. Instead, his eyes darkened with understanding.

“You won’t be.”

The space between them vanished.

Jae reached for him first, her fingers skimming against the fabric of his shirt. Testing.

Kellin didn’t hesitate. His hands found her waist, pulling her close, his body warm and solid against hers.

The first kiss was slow—tentative. But the moment her hands slid up his chest, tangling into his hair, control snapped.

He kissed her deeply, fiercely, as if he’d been waiting for this.

Jae gasped as his lips trailed along her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.

“Kellin,” she whispered, her voice trembling with something she couldn’t name.

He smirked against her throat. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

She shivered. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

The next morning, Vivienne’s expression was unreadable as she stirred her tea, gaze flicking toward Jae.

“So,” she said finally, “Jonah is relentless.”

Jae stiffened, setting down her cup. “I know.”

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “You threw away the bracelet. Good.”

Jae met her gaze. “You saw?”

Vivienne smiled. “Of course, darling. I know everything.”

Jae suppressed a shiver.

Vivienne leaned forward, voice turning serious. “Jonah won’t stop until he believes he’s won. You need to be ready for what that means.”

Jae swallowed. “I won’t let him control me again.”

Vivienne studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good. Then prove it.”

Jae arrived at Deveraux Haute Couture early, determined to prove herself. The office was already buzzing with energy—designers darting between workstations, seamstresses adjusting last-minute fittings, and executives murmuring over portfolios.

She had spent the past week learning the ropes, doing grunt work, and staying under the radar. But today, things felt… off.

The moment she stepped into the main workspace, all eyes flickered to her. Whispers. Stolen glances. The air was thick with tension.

Then she saw it.

The ruined collection.

Mannequins displaying half-finished dresses were in tatters. Expensive silk was slashed, embellishments torn apart, weeks of work destroyed. And sitting smugly by the coffee machine, Claudette.

Jae’s stomach dropped. This was deliberate.

Vivienne’s head of production stormed in, eyes blazing. “Who was the last one in the studio last night?”

Silence. Then, slowly, Claudette turned to Jae, her lips curling into a perfectly staged smirk.

“Jae,” she purred, tilting her head innocently. “Didn’t you say you were staying late to ‘double-check’ the designs?”

The room shifted. Accusatory stares. Murmured doubts.

Jae inhaled sharply, forcing herself to remain calm. This was a trap.

Before she could respond, Vivienne entered. The room fell dead silent.

She surveyed the damage with an unreadable expression, then turned to Jae.

“Well?”

Jae met her grandmother’s gaze, her heart pounding.

She could feel the weight of judgment, the unspoken ‘is she ready for this?’

Then, clarity.

Jae had spent years letting people silence her, diminish her. Not anymore.

She squared her shoulders and turned to the production team. “Tell me exactly what needs to be done to salvage the collection.”

A stunned beat of silence. Then someone hesitantly spoke. “The embroidery is ruined, and we need new fabric for three of the gowns.”

Jae nodded. “Then let’s fix it. I’ll take responsibility for sourcing the materials and helping reassemble what we can.”

A flicker of approval crossed Vivienne’s face.

Claudette scoffed. “You really think you can fix this mess?”

Jae turned to her, smiling sweetly. “Oh, I’m not just fixing this, Claudette. I’m making it better.”

Then she strode to the design table, pulled out a blank sketchpad, and started drawing.

If Claudette wanted to sabotage her? Fine.

She would turn this disaster into an opportunity.

By the time Jae was done, they wouldn’t just repair the collection—they’d make it unforgettable.