Revenge Wears Red Silk

Chapter4: Public War

The cameras flash like gunfire, blinding me as I stride onto the stage. My heels hit on the marble floor with a keen finality, the sound echoing inside my ribs. The press smells blood they've gathered for weeks, whispering, guessing. And today, I’m the one who hands them the knife.

I clutch the microphone with firm fingers, even if my heart is a traitor beating against my chest. “Good afternoon,” I begin, my voice crisp, cutting through the hectic buzz. A hundred lenses move closer.

“Mrs. Kingston, are the rumors true about your divorce?” someone shouts before I finish breathing.

I allow the turmoil to ripple, then chop it down with phrases I’ve been training in the darkness of restless nights. “Yes,” I reply, addressing their eager eyes. “But let me be very clear this is not a story of a woman cast aside. This is a story about power, quiet, and possession. And I’m done being silent.”

The murmurs grow, a tidal wave slamming. Questions fly. Betrayal. Affairs. Corporate sabotage. My name meshes with Daniel’s in every sharp-tipped word. I taste iron in my mouth, the anger I’ve swallowed for too long.

I lean closer, my voice falling to the deadly hit. “I am forty-nine percent of Kingston Dynamics. Forty-nine percent. That means my voice, my vote, and my blood created this empire just as much as his. And I shall not” I wait, letting the quiet tighten around their throats “be erased.”

Gasps split the air. The press room shudders. I see the headlines write themselves in their heated eyes: The Wife Strikes Back. The Untold War Inside Kingston Dynamics.

“Mrs. Kingston, are you implying Daniel Kingston forced you out of the company?” another reporter shouts.

I almost laughed. Almost. “I’m not implying anything,” I say. “I’m stating facts. You’ll see the docs yourself soon enough.”

The room erupts, journalists clutching at one another to hurl the next question. The paparazzi outside roar as if they can smell the kingdom falling.

But then it was quiet. A voice cuts through it all. Male, steady, measured. “Celeste, are you afraid?”

I find the reporter’s face. He looks like Daniel would sharpen jaws, icy Daniel had never been brave enough to stand in the open. My chest tightens.

“No,” I answer, the lie harsh against my mouth. “I’m not afraid of him.”

But my hands quiver when I put the microphone down.

“Are you insane?” Julia hisses the moment we’re backstage. My publicist’s face is pale, fear flaring in her every blink. “You’ve declared war. This isn’t a news release, it's blood on the boardroom floor. Daniel will crush you.”

The term feels like a sword shoved into my skin. Daniel. My hubby. My foe. My undoing.

I inhale quickly. “He already tried. This time, I hit first.”

Julia groans, rubbing her temples. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed. Every news source in New York will run this within the hour. And when he answers because you know he will, it'll be nuclear.”

Good. Let it burn.

Still, my chest aches in ways I hate acknowledging. Because behind the rage, beneath the steel I push around my voice, there is the memory of his hands once steadying me, his lips once repeating vows he pledged to honour.

The betrayal tastes terrible all over again.

Meanwhile, outside, the press swarms as I go. Cameras push forward, mics poke at me like weapons.

“Celeste, is this revenge?”

“Did Daniel cheat?”

“Are you worried about your safety?”

I rush through, followed by security. But every question claws deeper. Because sure, it is payback. And certainly, he cheated me of my marriage, of my years, of my part in the empire I helped construct. And sure, I am afraid.

But I can’t let them see.

“Mrs. Kingston, one last question!” someone yells as I’m pushed inside the black SUV. “If Daniel fights back what then?”

The door crashes, cutting them off. My answer sits in the silence.

What then?

The TV blares in my workplace. I don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t blink. I watch her, standing there with fire in her eyes, screaming my name like venom into microphones.

“I am forty-nine percent of Kingston Dynamics. And I’m done being quiet.”

The remarks echo long after the clip ends. My crew hover uncomfortably, no one daring to speak. Even the air appears to bow, waiting for my response.

My jaw grinds until my teeth ache. She stood there, in front of the entire world, and converted my kingdom into a circus. My wife. My betrayer. My biggest threat.

“She declared war,” I finally mumbled, my voice low, threatening. My reflection in the glass wall looks like a stranger, eyes black with hatred, lips curled into something cruel.

The board will worry. Investors will question. Enemies will circle.

But none of that matters. Only she does.

Celeste thinks she’s drawing blood. She has no idea the storm she’s invited to.

I rise, buttoning my jacket with the calm accuracy of a man loading his weapon. “So be it.”

War it is.

Celeste doesn’t yet know I’ve already moved two steps ahead. She doesn’t know the files I’ve kept away, the kind that may sear her image beyond repair. She doesn’t know the alliances I’ve been making in the shadows, allies who will turn on her with a single nod from me.

And she doesn’t know how much it still hurts to watch her, powerful and gorgeous, declaring herself my enemy when every bone in my body recalls the taste of her love.

My hand twists into a fist, knuckles white. Love is weakness. And fear is something I no longer allow myself.

Does she want war?

Then she’ll have it.

And this time, there will be no pity.

The city lights flash in the distance, and for the first time in years, the battle line between us is drawn in fire.

The war has begun.

And only one of us will survive it.

From his office, Daniel watches the press conference video, his jaw hardening with killing determination. “She declared war. So be it.”