**Diary Entry**
*10th July, London*
No husband, no success, whispered the girls behind my back at the school reunion. Their faces fell slack as my companion walked in.
Look, its Belyaeva. Alone, as usual.
The murmurs cut like a knife between my ribs. I didnt turn. I already knew who it wasVeronica Odintsova.
The queen of our school hive, her venom only stronger with time.
The restaurant buzzed like an agitated swarm. Ten years later. Music thundered over clinking glasses and hollow compliments. I stepped further inside, feeling like an intruder in enemy territory. My presence wouldnt go unnoticed.
That dress must be from some discount store, another voice chimed in. Svetlana Polyakova, Veronicas ever-loyal lady-in-waiting.
I traced the rim of my mineral water glass. The dress was custom-made to my own sketches. But they wouldnt understand that. To them, value was measured in flashy logos.
I scanned the roomsame faces, just etched with time. Some had receding hairlines, others crows feet or extra weight. But their eyes still held the same hungerto prove themselves at someone elses expense.
I felt their gazes searing my back. They wanted a reaction. Wanted me to shrink, to flee to the toilets like I had in Year 10 when theyd poured a bottle of ice-cold soda down my collar in front of the whole canteen.
But I didnt hunch. I just adjusted the flawless crease in my sleeve.
Veronica couldnt stand the silence. She approached, shimmering with sequins and smugness, her entourage trailing like shadows.
Ksenia! You came! I thought youd chicken out.
Her smile was a work of artperfect veneers, not an ounce of warmth.
Good evening, Veronica, I replied evenly, meeting her gaze.
Still buried in dusty archives? Sorting through nobodys paperwork?
It wasnt a question. It was a verdict on my worthlessness.
I changed jobs.
Really? Her voice dripped with mock surprise. Promoted to senior archivist now? Extra hazard pay for all that dust?
A hush fell around us. Eyes locked onto our little spectacle.
I almost smiled. They wanted confirmationproof their school hierarchy still held. That they were the winners, and I was still left behind.
Something like that, I said vaguely, giving them exactly what they craved.
Veronica snorted triumphantly and turned to her flock. Told you. Nothing changes. No love life, no real career.
Her words rang loud enough for all to hear. A sentence declared and sealed.
I lowered my eyes to my glass. My fingers around the stem didnt tremble. I was just waiting.
And then the restaurant doors swung open.
A man walked in.
Tall, in a suit worth more than all their cars combined. His movements were assured, calm. He murmured something to the host, scanning the room.
The chatter died mid-breath. The music suddenly felt too loud, out of place.
Every womans gaze snapped to him. Who was he? MP? Business mogul?
His frown softened as his eyes found me. And he smiledthe same smile I saw every morning. Reserved only for me.
Ignoring the stunned silence, he crossed the room and rested a hand on my shoulder.
Sorry Im late. Negotiations ran over.
I looked up and smiled backgenuine, warm.
Its fine, Sebastian. I knew youd come.
He leaned down and kissed melight but deliberate. An act so intimate it silenced every whisper.
Veronicas face froze in pure shock. Her brain scrambled to process a reality that didnt fit her narrative.
Of course, she recovered fast. And attacked.
Ksenia, arent you going to introduce us? Her voice oozed saccharine venom.
Veronica, this is Sebastian, I said calmly. Sebastian, these are my former classmates.
Someone at the far end of the table dropped a fork.
Wait Sebastian Wright? *The* Sebastian Wright?
Recognition crackled through the room. Phones that had been filming drunken dancing now turned toward us.
Sebastian Wright. The rock icon whose anthems played on every radio, whose concert tickets sold out in minutes.
Veronica paled under her foundation. This was a gut punch. A ruinous blow.
But she wouldnt retreat. Her weapon had never been forcejust poison, wrapped in a smile.
Well, well We were just saying how Belyaeva had no husband, no success. Turns out you just took the easy way out.
Her eyes raked over me.
Always the quiet one, but you didnt miss your chance, did you? Clever girl.
It was a slap disguised as praise. An accusation Id only snagged him for his money.
I felt something inside me tighten. Id wanted one peaceful evening. Just that.
Veronica, lets not. A mistake. My calm was taken as surrender.
Oh, dont be shy! She laughed, playing to the crowd now. Were just curious! How did our little wallflower snag an *eagle* like him? Whats your secret? Dusty manuscripts?
Sebastian stiffened, waiting for my signal. But I just looked at hernot the polished woman before me, but the schoolgirl who thrived on others humiliation.
And in that moment, I realized*enough*.
Sebastian stepped forward, face hardening.
But I stopped him with a hand on his chest. *Ill handle this.*
Slowly, deliberately, I rose from my seat. No trembling. Just cold, absolute calm. I met Veronicas stare.
You asked what I do. My voice was soft, but the silence carried it. You were almost right. My career *did* start in archives. Among old tapes, I found a demoan unknown singer with an extraordinary voice.
I glanced at Sebastian.
I spent a year restoring that recording, tracking him down, convincing him the world needed his music. Then four more building the company that made him a star.
For the last four years, Ive been CEO and co-owner of Wright Music Records.
A beat. Let that sink in.
Every platinum album, every world tour, every endorsementthats my work. I didnt *find* him, Veronica. I built an empire around his talent.
Her face contorted. Mouth opening, finding no words.
I continued, tone unchanging.
As for your paid escort theory Interesting coming from you.
My gaze shifted to the man behind herher husband, polished but visibly uneasy.
Your familys media agency, Vector Media, yes? Just last week, I rejected an offer to acquire it.
Her husband flinched.
My legal team advised against it. Toxic leadership, questionable reputation. And staggering debt.
Now *he* blanched, staring at his wife in horror.
I turned back to Veronica. Eye to eye.
So if were discussing contracts Maybe your husband should book a meeting with me. Though after tonight? I doubt Ill make time.
I picked up my purse.
Sebastian, were leaving.
No waiting. No hesitation. Just steady steps toward the exitchin up, shoulders straight.
Sebastian lingered, casting one last glare at the silent crowd before following.
We left under a deathly hush. The show was over. And the ending wasnt what theyd paid to see.
—
*Later, Home*
In the car, Sebastian stayed quiet until we pulled into the garage. Then, killing the engine, he turned to me.
Always knew you had steel in you. Tonight, I saw it shine.
I shook my head, unbuckling my seatbelt.
Not steel. Just the end of patience.
No triumph. No gloating. Just hollow silence where old pain had lived.
Like pulling a shard from a wound left festering too long.
—
*Epilogue: One Year Later*
My office overlooked London from the top floor of a skyscraper. Through my headphones, a raw female voice sang over untuned guitartalented but unsure.
I paused the track, scrolling news headlines until one caught my eye:
*Former Vector Media heiress Veronica Wright (née Odintsova) spotted working as a hostess at an exclusive country club.*
A blurry photo accompanied ita tired woman with a painted-on smile.
I felt nothing. No spite, no satisfaction. Just quiet pity for someone whod spent her life choking on envy.
I closed the tab. Her story wasnt mine anymore.
Months later, Vector Media declared bankruptcy. Her husband divorced her, blaming her for the ruin of everything hed built.
The office door opened softly. Sebastian stepped in, resting his hands on my shoulders as he peered at the young singers profile on my screen.
Another broken
