Chapter 6
“Be ready by six,” Ethan’s voice came through the phone, clipped and to the point. “I’ve already placed the dress I want you to wear in your closet. Don’t be late.”
Before Amara could reply, the call ended.
She stared at the phone in her hand, a bitter smile playing on her lips. The same dress again? she thought. Memories of that humiliating night in her previous life flooded back—the low-cut, gaudy dress he’d picked for her, ensuring she’d look out of place next to Celeste’s elegant gown.
Not this time.
Amara walked over to her wardrobe and pulled the offending dress out. She held it up for a moment, its cheap sequins catching the light, and then tossed it aside like it was trash.
Turning to her drawer, she pulled out a stunning, floor-length evening gown she’d secretly purchased—a dazzling masterpiece of silk and crystals that shimmered like stars.
“Let’s see Celeste try to outshine this,” she muttered, a smirk tugging at her lips.
She slipped into the gown, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly. Her reflection in the mirror exuded confidence and defiance. She was ready—ready to face Ethan, Celeste, and whatever tricks they had up their sleeves.
As she fastened her earrings, her phone buzzed. Picking it up, she saw Celeste’s name flashing on the screen. Amara’s lips thinned as she answered.
“Well, if it isn’t the woman who loves pretending to win,” Amara said coolly.
“Pretending?” Celeste’s laugh was saccharine sweet, laced with mockery. “Amara, darling, you’re all bark and no bite. You swore you’d stop me, but here I am, still standing. What’s next on your list of empty threats?”
Amara’s grip on the phone tightened. “Don’t test me, Celeste. You’ll regret it.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Celeste purred. “Ethan already told me what he’d do if you tried anything to stop the auction. Divorce, wasn’t it? Are you really willing to lose him over some sentimental trinket?”
The words hit their mark, and Amara’s silence stretched. She clenched her jaw, hating how easily Celeste could still get under her skin.
“Cat got your tongue?” Celeste taunted. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’ve given up already, haven’t you? Good girl. Stay in your lane.”
Before Amara could retort, the line went dead. She stared at the phone in her hand, her heart pounding with a mix of fury and determination.
You think I’ve given up? Think again.
Without wasting another second, she dialed a number she hadn’t called in years—one she had memorized for moments exactly like this.
The voice on the other end picked up after a single ring. “Is it time?”
“It’s time,” Amara said, her voice steady, filled with resolve. “Meet me at the auction house in thirty minutes. Bring everything we discussed.”
“Understood,” the voice replied before the call ended.
Amara placed her phone on the dresser and glanced at her reflection once more. Her eyes gleamed with the fire of someone who had nothing left to lose but everything to gain.
You wanted a fight, Celeste? You’re about to get one.
With one last look at herself, she grabbed her clutch and headed out, ready to face whatever the night had in store.
