Elisa stayed awake all night, yet not a single tear fell. In the darkness, she etched every eavesdropped word into her heart like knife cuts. Those venomous schemes, that patronizing sweetness that treated her like a fool—all became fuel for her vengeance. By dawn, she was as cold as if she'd become a different person. The timid, self-effacing young woman she once was had died; what lived now was a woman determined to trample them all into the dirt.
She applied light makeup, slid on sunglasses, and carried a black handbag straight to Club Nightlife. The owner, David Perry, lounged on a sofa smoking a cigar, his eyes narrowing when she entered. Without a word, Elisa tossed the bag onto the table, and two hundred grand in cash spilled out with a clatter. Her voice was calm but carried a rut
