Queen's Strike Back

QUEEN'S STRIKE-BACK Chapter 1 — The Woman They Buried The first time they tried to destroy me, I was seventeen. The second time, I was standing at the altar. And this time, I was going to let them believe they had won. I stared at the man standing beside me. Ethan Blackwood. My husband — or at least, he had been supposed to be. The ballroom was silent enough for me to hear the faint ticking of the antique clock behind the priest. Everyone was watching us. His parents. My relatives. The business partners who had gathered to celebrate what they believed was the beginning of a powerful alliance. And beside Ethan stood the woman who had spent the past six months pretending to be my friend. Victoria Hale. She was crying — not the kind of crying that came from sadness, but the kind that made everyone else feel sorry for her. Her fingers trembled around a handkerchief as she looked at me. "I'm sorry, Clara." I almost laughed. Almost. Because three hours ago, Victoria had been in my dressing room, helping me fasten the buttons of my wedding gown. She had hugged me. She had called me her sister. And now she was standing beside my fiancé while the entire room waited for him to explain why he had refused to say his vows. Ethan finally spoke. "I can't marry her." A murmur moved through the room. My mother stood up so quickly that her chair scraped against the marble floor. "What did you just say?" Ethan didn't look at her. His eyes remained on me. "I said I can't marry Clara." I stared at him. There were a thousand questions I could have asked. Why? What happened? When did you stop loving me? Was there someone else? But strangely, none of them came out. Because I already knew. I looked at Victoria. She lowered her eyes. That was all the confirmation I needed. My entire life had apparently been reduced to this moment. The abandoned bride. The foolish girl. The daughter of a disgraced family who had somehow managed to lose the one opportunity that could have restored their name. I could almost hear the whispers beginning. Poor Clara. She must have known something was wrong. Maybe Ethan finally discovered the truth about her family. Imagine being rejected on your wedding day. I kept my face calm. That was something my father had taught me before he disappeared — never let your enemies know where they have hurt you. My father had said those words to me when I was seventeen, back when our family still had everything. Money. Power. A respected name. And then, one night, everything disappeared. Our company collapsed. Our accounts were frozen. My father was accused of stealing millions. By morning, the newspapers had turned our family into a national scandal. My father vanished three days later. And my mother never recovered from it. For the next eight years, I lived as the daughter of a criminal. Nobody cared whether the accusations were true. Nobody cared that my father had never been convicted. They had already decided what we were. Guilty. Weak. Finished. Until Ethan came into my life. Or at least, that's what I thought. I looked at him now. "Is this because of Victoria?" The room went completely silent. Victoria's face changed. Ethan's jaw tightened. He didn't answer. That was enough. I nodded slowly. "How long?" "Clara—" "How long have you been together?" "That's not important." A small smile touched my lips. It wasn't a happy smile. "Of course it isn't." I removed the engagement ring from my finger. The diamond caught the chandelier light as I held it between us. Six months ago, Ethan had placed it on my finger and promised that nothing would ever come between us. Now I placed it in his palm. "Congratulations." He frowned. "For what?" I looked at Victoria, then back at him. "For giving me the answer I needed." Victoria stepped forward. "Clara, please. I never wanted to hurt you." I finally looked at her properly. "That's a lie." Her eyes widened. "You knew exactly what you were doing." "That's not true." "You knew about the wedding." "I—" "You knew I loved him." She went quiet. "And you still went after him." The room became even quieter. Ethan stepped between us. "Enough." I looked at him. Something inside me broke. But it wasn't my heart. It was the last piece of me that still believed he was the man I thought he was. I turned toward the guests. "I'm sorry you all had to witness this." Then I looked at Ethan one final time. "Don't worry." His expression softened slightly. Perhaps he expected me to cry. Perhaps he expected me to beg. Perhaps he thought I was still the same seventeen-year-old girl who had watched her family fall apart and had been too frightened to fight back. He was wrong. "I won't make a scene." I walked away. Nobody stopped me. Not even my mother. I stepped through the ballroom doors, lifted the hem of my wedding dress, and walked down the long corridor alone. My heels echoed against the marble. One step. Two. Three. Then I stopped. My hand slipped into the pocket hidden beneath my gown. My fingers touched the small envelope I had carried with me all morning. I pulled it out. There was only one sentence written on the front. CONFIDENTIAL — REGARDING THE BLACKWOOD FAMILY My heart beat faster. I opened it. Inside was a photograph. An old photograph. My father stood in the center. Beside him was Ethan's father. And behind them stood a third man — a man I had never seen before. I turned the photograph over. There was a date written on the back: September 14, 2017. And underneath it, six words that made my blood run cold. Your father's disappearance was not an accident. I read the sentence again. Then again. My wedding had just collapsed. My fiancé had chosen another woman. My family name was still buried beneath years of scandal. But suddenly, none of that mattered. Because for the first time in eight years, I had something more valuable than money. I had a clue. I folded the photograph and placed it back inside the envelope, then looked toward the ballroom doors. Ethan believed he had just escaped a marriage. Victoria believed she had won. His family believed they had finally gotten rid of the disgraced daughter of the Whitmore family. They were all wrong. They had no idea who they had just betrayed. And they certainly had no idea what was coming. I wiped the last trace of tears from my cheek. Then I smiled. The woman they buried was about to come back. And this time, I wasn't asking for my place at the table. I was coming for the whole table.