(Elara’s POV)
“Happy birthday to you…”
The song reached me the moment I stepped into the ballroom, cheerful and warm, floating above the soft clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter. I slowed instinctively, my breath catching as the scene before me came fully into view.
Under the glow of golden chandeliers stood my daughter.
Mila Vale.
She was at the center of the room, dressed in a pink gown that shimmered every time she moved. A tiny crystal crown rested on her curls, making her look like the princess she was.
For one fragile second, my lips almost curved into a smile.
Then I saw them.
Damien stood beside her, tall and composed in a black tailored suit with his first love; Vivienne Laurent.
My fingers tightened painfully around the small velvet box in my hand.
When had she come back?
Vivienne’s hand rested on Mila’s shoulder while Mila leaned into her, laughing brightly at something she whispered into her ear. The cameras flashing around them only made the image sharper.
The three of them looked perfect together.
Like a real family.
And me?
I suddenly felt like a stranger who had walked into the wrong celebration.
Just this morning, I had been at home decorating the dining room. Pink balloons, ribbons, candles… every little detail carefully prepared because I wanted Mila’s 5th birthday to be special.
I had baked her favorite chocolate cake from scratch even after burning my fingers taking it out of the oven and stayed awake the entire night finishing the handmade bracelet inside the velvet box I carried now.
At some point during the night, the nausea became unbearable again. I remembered sitting on the kitchen floor with one hand pressed against my stomach, waiting for the dizziness to pass before forcing myself back up.
I didn’t mind because tonight was supposed to be special. I wanted tonight to be intimate when I made the announcement.
Then my phone buzzed.
One message from Damien “Mila’s party will be held at Grand Crest Hotel. Don’t prepare anything at home.”
That was it.
No explanation, no apology, just another cold decision from the man I had spent years loving alone.
I remembered standing frozen in the kitchen afterward, staring at the untouched candles and decorations.
Yet, I still came… Because no matter how Damien treated me, Mila was still my daughter.
The music swelled louder as I forced myself further into the ballroom, ignoring the curious glances that landed on me.
I had barely looked at myself in the mirror before rushing here. I probably looked exhausted, haggard even. My hands shook as I caressed my grey dress.
A few guests frowned slightly, as though trying to figure out who I was.
“Maybe she’s one of the staff?”
“I think I’ve seen her with the little girl before…”
“Oh, maybe the nanny?”
The whispers spread quietly around me.
I lowered my gaze and walked toward an empty seat at the far side of the ballroom.
Damien noticed me first, but looked away with the same indifference he had always shown me… As though I didn’t exist.
A hollow ache spread through my chest. I should’ve been used to it by now.
Mila noticed me next.
For one brief second, recognition lit my daughter’s eyes. Then it disappeared.
Her small face shifted almost immediately before she turned away, avoiding my gaze completely.
As though she didn’t want to see me… My stomach twisted painfully.
Vivienne Laurent noticed the exchange instantly.
Her gaze slowly lifted toward me, and the moment recognition dawned in her eyes, a faint smile curved her lips.
Then she stepped even closer to Mila, one hand settling gently against her shoulder possessively.
Around them, voices buzzed excitedly.
“She’s so beautiful beside Mr Vale.”
“They really look perfect together.”
“I heard the Vale family already approves of her.”
“She’s definitely the soon-to-be Mrs Vale.”
Vivienne smiled gracefully at the compliments while camera flashes illuminated her beautiful face repeatedly.
My fingers tightened harder around the velvet box. Everything inside me was screaming to stand up… to walk over there, and remind them all who I was.
But I stayed seated, folding my trembling hands.
Then a familiar voice rose above the noise. Tristan Cole; one of Damien’s closest friends.
“Well, come on!” he called out with a grin. “The birthday girl should cut the cake with Mommy and Daddy!”
The room erupted instantly.
“Yes!”
“Mommy and Daddy with the birthday girl!”
Laughter echoed loudly through the ballroom.
My entire body went cold. Tristan knew exactly who I was to Damien and Mila.
And still— he humiliated me anyway. On purpose.
The photographer hurried forward excitedly.
“Mr Vale, Miss Laurent, closer please! Perfect! The three of you look amazing together!”
Mila beamed happily.
Vivienne smiled.
And Damien… he placed his hand over Vivienne’s as they helped Mila hold the cake knife together.
The cameras flashed rapidly.
“Mommy Vivienne, help me cut the biggest slice!” Mila laughed happily.
The words slammed into me so hard my hearing rang.
Mommy Vivienne?
Five years of motherhood erased in one sentence.
And the worst thing, no one corrected her, not even Damien.
The crowd only laughed warmly like it was the sweetest thing in the world.
Something inside me snapped. I was on my feet before I even realized it.
“Stop!”
My voice trembled despite how hard I tried to steady it.
The room quieted immediately.
Damien’s expression darkened the moment I reached them.
“Elara,” he said coldly. “Don’t make a scene.”
A hollow laugh escaped me.
“Don’t make a scene?” I repeated weakly. “You’re standing here while my daughter calls another woman her mother right in front of me!” My voice cracked.
Vivienne stepped back slightly, her expression calm but satisfaction gleamed in her eyes.
Mila frowned unhappily.
“You’re ruining my birthday,” she muttered.
The words hit like knives.
I swallowed hard, before carefully holding out the velvet box with trembling fingers.
“I brought you a gift,” I whispered softly. “I made it myself…”
For one second, Mila looked at the box.
Then Vivienne crouched beside her gracefully and opened another jewelry case first.
Inside sat a sparkling diamond bracelet. Mila gasped excitedly.
“Mommy Vivienne bought me a diamond bracelet!” she squealed happily.
The guests immediately burst into admiration.
“So gorgeous!”
“That bracelet must cost a fortune!”
Mila grabbed Vivienne’s gift excitedly without even looking at mine again. She carelessly pushed my velvet box aside, hitting the floor and sliding beneath the table nearby.
“You see?” Mila said suddenly, looking at me with childish annoyance. “Mommy Vivienne gives me prettier things.”
The ballroom spun slightly around me.
“I’m your mother,” I whispered helplessly, my voice breaking despite my effort to hold myself together.
But Mila immediately shook her head.
“No!” She said, clinging tightly to Vivienne’s arm “She’s my mommy now!”
The entire room fell silent.
Then Vivienne leaned closer to me and whispered in my ears “Maybe Mila is simply happier with me.”
Something hot exploded inside me.
Before I could stop myself, my hand lifted instinctively toward Vivienne— but Damien caught my wrist roughly.
Pain shot sharply through my arm.
“Have you lost your mind?” he said coldly, shoving my hand away like I disgusted him. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her!”
My throat tightened painfully “Damien—”
“Get her out!” he ordered, and two security guards immediately stepped forward.
One of them grabbed my arm.
Gasps spread quietly through the ballroom as guests immediately pulled out their phones.
Some whispered excitedly, some laughed openly, watching me like I was entertainment.
“Let go of me!” I struggled instinctively, humiliation burning through every inch of my body as the guards dragged me toward the exit.
