Chapter 5: Welcome Back to The Phoenix Group

Elena's POV

Five years later, I stepped off my private jet at JFK, smirking. The freezing New York air hit me like a slap - dragging back all the memories I'd been trying to ditch for five whole years.

"Welcome back, Ms. Huntington." My assistant, Michael, stood by the car, the perfect little assistant as always. His eyes scanned me with worry look. "After such a long flight—"

"I'm fine," I cut him off and slid into the backseat. "Report."

He slipped in beside me and whipped out his tablet. "Everyone's talking about Phoenix Group's CEO finally making a public appearance."

"And Reginald?"

"Still thinks you're hiding in France." Michael couldn't hide his amusement. "His investigators were checking every luxury hotel in Paris last week."

I let out a bitter laugh, remembering how different things had actually gone down. The memory of that day was still crystal clear - the packed suitcase, the first-class ticket to Paris clutched in my trembling hands, and the desperate need to disappear.

Actually, I had originally left the country with a broken heart, planning to hide away in France. I'd even bought my plane ticket. However, on my way to the airport, I'd encountered some men sent by the Huntington family. They were in New York looking for someone and were convinced that I was the person they sought.

Instead of boarding that flight to France, I had ended up being taken to the Huntington Estate in England, where they had helped me conceal my whereabouts...

During my five - year stay with the Huntingtons, I had delved deep into the dirt about that nightmare Stewart family dinner party. And what I discovered was beyond shocking - I wasn't the Stewarts' biological daughter.

So if Reginald thought he could manipulate me or even find me... well, things weren't as simple as they used to be.

I threw my head back with a harsh laugh. "Idiots. How's our plan coming along?"

"Richard Vanderbilt's birthday gala is tonight. Every big shot in tech and finance will be there." Michael reached into his jacket and pulled out a black envelope. "The invitation arrived this morning."

I straightened up. "Who's it addressed to?"

"'The CEO of Phoenix Group.'" He paused, a glint in his eye. "Nobody outside our inner circle knows you're the mastermind behind Phoenix's rise. The media's still battling it out over whether the mystery CEO has a dick or not."

"Perfect." I snatched the invitation, my fingers tracing the fancy lettering. "Let them keep guessing." My smile turned ice-cold as a delicious shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. "The Vanderbilts always got off on their little mysteries. How fucking ironic they're about to face their biggest one yet."

"Should I confirm we're coming?"

"Damn right." My smile grew sharper. "What's a party without a surprise guest who makes everyone shit their pants?"

I closed my eyes, my chest tightening as I remembered how kind the old man had been during those three hellish years. Richard, Reginald's grandpa, was the only one who saw through my act, the only one who treated me like a real Vanderbilt.

"Ms. Huntington?" Michael's voice snapped me back. "Straight to Phoenix Group?"

I blinked, adjusting my jacket. "Yes." I checked my watch. "Time to make my grand entrance."

The whispers kicked off the second I strutted into Phoenix Group's gleaming lobby. The front desk staff tried to play it cool, but I caught every hushed word, my ears burning with satisfaction.

"Is that her? The actual CEO?"

"I thought no one knew what the boss looked like..."

"She looks so young..."

I smiled to myself as Michael guided me to the CEO's private elevator. Let them gossip—the mystery around Phoenix Group's CEO had worked exactly as planned.

The elevator shot up like a rocket, the floors ticking by in a blur. When the doors slid open with a soft ping, I stepped out onto the executive floor where my team quickly scrambled to look busy. They'd known I was coming today, but seeing me in the flesh still had them on edge. Good.

"Coffee, Ms. Huntington?" my executive assistant asked, practically materializing beside me.

"Black," I replied, not breaking my stride as I headed toward the corner office with its massive double doors.

I walked into my office, straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased Manhattan's skyline. Looking down at the city below, I felt a rush of power surging through my veins. This city had once crushed me. Now it was at my feet.

"Video call for you," Michael handed me the phone and left.

I took it, and the moment the screen lit up, my heart melted.

"Mommy!" Two perfect little faces filled the screen.

"Hi, my loves." My voice instantly softened. "Have you been good for Matilda today?"

"Yes!" Ethan could barely contain his excitement. "I finished coding class early! Teacher says I can join the advanced program!"

"That's my brilliant boy." Pride swelled in my chest.

"And look what I made!" Zoe held up a watercolor painting. "It's the horse great-grandfather let me ride!"

"It's beautiful, sweetheart." My throat tightened. They were growing up so fast, and I was missing everything.

"When are you coming home?" They asked together.

"Soon, my darlings. Mommy just has some important meetings." I pushed down the bitterness. "Are you being good for Matilda?"

"Always!" They chorused, their sweet faces beaming through the screen.

The twins, my unexpected miracle from that night with Reginald, had become my whole damn world.

What nobody knew was that their dad was the same bastard who'd broken me. That night of forced intimacy, soaked in anger and hurt, hadn't just shattered my heart but also, ironically, kickstarted the most precious part of my existence.

Five years ago, I was in a daze when the Huntingtons brought me to England, where everything felt alien to me.

I barely ate, lost in a fog of depression, until the morning sickness started. By the time I confirmed the pregnancy, it was too late for other options.

After saying goodbye to the twins, I hit the office intercom. "Michael, the gown?"

"Just arrived. Black Valentino, as requested."

Perfect. I walked to the adjacent dressing room where the gown hung like a promise of revenge. As I slipped into it, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at me was nothing like the Elena who had fled New York five years ago. That girl died the night Reginald betrayed her.

I touched up my makeup, painting my lips blood red. Each stroke of the lipstick felt like armor going on. The final touch was a diamond necklace - not a Vanderbilt heirloom this time, but bought with my own money. My own power.

"Car's ready," Michael appeared at the door. "The gala starts in an hour."

I gave myself one last look in the mirror. "Time to crash their party." A cold smile spread across my face as I gripped the invitation. The need for revenge made my blood boil.

This time, everyone who had been cold and cruel to me would pay. Every single one of them. This gala would be the perfect stage for my comeback. Let them wonder, let them be shocked—none of them would recognize me as the Elena Stewart they used to walk all over.