Chasing Back the Lady l Once Used

The click of Liana Rowe’s heels echoed like gunfire in the lavish marble halls of the Waldorf Grand. Heads turned, conversations paused mid-sentence, and wine glasses hovered mid-air. She didn’t glance sideways. She didn’t need to. She had become the kind of woman who made rooms hold their breath. Tonight was a trap of her own making. The gala was overflowing with the city’s elite: media moguls, venture capitalists, CEOs. Every tailored suit and designer dress served as camouflage for secrets, ambition, and greed. The air smelled like money and pretension. And at the heart of it stood the man who had once torn her life apart. Roman Wolfe. Liana spotted him across the ballroom, laughing effortlessly with two men from the Financial Review Board. His charm was intact razor-sharp jawline, stormy eyes, and that careless elegance money couldn’t buy. But time had carved tension into his posture, and if you looked close enough, his mask had begun to c***k. He hadn’t seen her yet. She reached for a glass of champagne and sipped slowly, letting the bitter bubbles dance on her tongue. Her heart was steady, but the memory was jagged. She walked into Wolfe Global three years ago as a twenty-one-year-old intern eager, innocent, and stupidly in awe of Roman Wolfe. She fell for him, blindly. And he used that, made her trust him, made her feel like she mattered. Until he handed her over to the press as the scapegoat for her father's company’s collapse. He ruined her life with a smile on his face. Now, her name is no longer linked to the scandal. Liana Rowe had clawed her way back from the ashes, and tonight, she had come to finish what he started. Roman finally turned and froze. For a second, he just stared. Then his lips parted in something that might’ve been disbelief, might’ve been admiration. He said something to the men beside him and started toward her. Liana didn’t move. “Liana,” he said, his voice smooth like bourbon. “You look…” “Nothing like the intern you betrayed?” she interrupted, turning to him. She arched a brow. “You don’t get to compliment me.” He looked amused, but his eyes were calculating. “So we’re doing this. Okay.” He gestured toward a quieter side of the ballroom. “Walk with me?” She considered it. Then nodded. They stepped away from the crowd, into a private corridor lined with glittering art. The noise of the gala faded behind them. Roman stopped walking. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” “I’m sure you didn’t,” Liana replied coolly. He tilted his head. “You’ve done well for yourself.” “Flattery won’t earn you forgiveness,” she said. “But I assume you’re not here just to offer compliments.” Roman’s expression changed subtly. His confidence faltered just a fraction but it was enough. “You’ve heard, haven’t you?” he said. “About the SEC investigation.” “I have.” She leaned against the wall, swirling her champagne. “Word is you’re looking at fines large enough to bury Wolfe Global.” He exhaled. “I need your help.” Liana laughed sharply and humorlessly.“You want my help? After you sold me out? After you let them drag my name through the dirt to save your own skin?” “I didn’t come here expecting sympathy.” “Good, because you won’t get it.” She stepped closer, her voice low, dangerous. You came here because you’re desperate. And because you know exactly how much I’ve learned since you crushed me.” Roman said nothing. “You need someone who understands the loopholes. Someone with access. "Someone who’s not afraid to get dirty,” she said. “And unfortunately for you, Roman… I’m all those things now.” “I can pay you.” “I don’t want your money.” He blinked. “Then what do you want?” She smiled slowly, and this time, it was *her*, a smile that was dangerous. “I want control. I want you to work under me, publicly. I want you to answer me, apologizing for me. I want the world to see the great Roman Wolfe on a leash.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You want to humiliate me.” “I want to level the field. And then I want to burn it.” His gaze hardened. “You always had claws, but you’re different now.” “You made me this way.” There was a pause. Thick, electric silence crackled between them. Roman stepped in closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne—spice and sin. “You might think you’re in control, Liana. But whatever you’re planning... it won’t end the way you think.” “I’m counting on that,” she whispered. He studied her, then gave the smallest nod. “Fine. Send the terms.” She pulled a crisp envelope from her clutch. “Already did.” He took it, fingers brushing hers. “You planned this.” “Of course I did,” she said. “I’ve been planning it for three years.” Their eyes locked. The air between them was heavy with everything they weren’t saying, resentment, unfinished feelings, and the twisted ache of something too painful to name. Roman tucked the envelope into his jacket. “Then I guess we’re back in business.” She leaned in, lips near his ear. “You want me to save you, Roman?” Her voice was velvet. “You’ll have to bleed for it.” She turned and walked away, never looking back. He didn’t stop her. But his hand clenched the envelope so tightly, the edge sliced his palm.