Elaine's POV
It felt like I was being yanked straight back into that nightmare.
"Three years, Elaine. One broken leg. A stray with no home, and you still haven't learned how to be a good, obedient dog?"
That voice, carved into my bones and haunting every single day of my life, slammed me right back into the present.
Dylan's grip on my wrist was brutal, sharp enough to make my eyes water, but I couldn't help it.
I smiled.
With my free hand, I tapped the cold, metallic surface of my prosthetic leg, which was concealed under my trousers. The sharp tapping sound cut through the quiet banquet hall, slicing through the air like a knife.
"Dylan," I said, my voice calm and even, "now that I think about it, I should thank you. The leg you destroyed back then? It's stronger now than your life."
Before he could even process my words, I swung my prosthetic into his shin with all the force I had.
A dull thud echoed through the room, followed by the sickening crack of bone.
Instantly, the color drained from his face. Dylan's expression turned to disbelief, and for a moment, the entire hall fell into an eerie silence.
Then the crowd went wild.
"Oh my God! Who is she? Is she crazy? She actually hit Dylan!" someone shouted.
The woman next to her leaned in, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. "Wait… Miss Ridley just reminded me. I remember now! That scandal three years ago shook the whole city. Wasn't Mr. Hartman's ex-wife, the lead ballerina, supposed to have pushed someone out of a building because she was jealous that Miss Ridley was pregnant? And then Mr. Hartman broke her leg himself? Could this really be her?"
"Yeah, didn't she get kicked out of the Hartman estate after that?" another voice added. "She just… vanished, right?"
Instantly, Dylan staggered, his face pale and sweat dripping down his brow. He clung to the floor, barely keeping himself upright.
Meanwhile, Amara screamed, ignoring the pain in her fractured wrist. She rushed to Dylan's side, positioning herself in front of him like she was protecting him from some threat.
"Elaine, you're insane!" she shouted. "Dylan gave you everything—resources, opportunities! He raised you from nothing to lead the ballet company, and this is how you repay him?"
I didn't even glance in her direction. Instead, I kept my gaze locked on Dylan, whose face had darkened with fury.
"Dylan," I said, my voice thick with sarcasm, "you're still clueless—calling a squawking chicken a swan."
Amara's face turned a deep shade of purple, her fury barely contained.
With the help of his bodyguards, Dylan straightened up and pushed Amara behind him in a protective gesture—just like he had three years ago.
"Elaine, no matter how much you cling to me, I will never give you another chance," Dylan said, his voice colder than I had ever heard it. "I love Amara's purity and gentleness. In her world, there's only me. Unlike you, who only cares about your stage and your reputation. You took my money, climbed up on the Hartman name, and showed your selfish, materialistic core. A woman like you will never have my love."
His gaze was ice-cold, full of disdain, like I was nothing more than trash to him.
"I don't care what you've been up to these past three years, or how you wormed your way into this party," Dylan sneered. "But at my family's doorstep? A cripple like you doesn't even have the right to show your face with us, Elaine."
With a flick of his wrist, a group of burly bodyguards moved in, circling me like predators closing in.
"Elaine, how dare you lay a hand on Amara!" Dylan spat. "I crippled you once, and I can do it again. Believe me, I'll make sure you never walk properly again, not for the rest of your life."
But I wasn't afraid, nor did I retreat. I locked eyes with Dylan, meeting his murderous glare head-on as I sauntered toward him.
"Dylan," I said, my voice resolute, "you'd better remember every word you said today. Because when the day comes, and you're kneeling at my feet, begging me, I'll give them all back to you, one by one, exactly as they are."
Right then, Dylan's face twisted further with rage.
My mind wandered to a memory from three years ago. I recall signing my lifetime contract as the principal dancer with the Swan Ballet Company.
It was the highest honor in the world of ballet.
But more importantly, it was the dream that my mom and I had devoted our entire lives to.
