Chapter 6

Elena's POV

Three months later, I took over a boutique consulting firm in Soho.

It was a small operation, housed in a charming but weathered pre-war building.

The reception desk was just a simple oak table, the conference room doors had scratches, and the accounting software was hopelessly outdated.

I spent the first two weeks auditing the books.

By the third week, I rewrote our standard contract templates and began reaching out to clients.

Within a month, my desk was piled high with new project files.

All the crisis management, negotiations, financing, and auditing skills I had used to build Damian's dream were finally being used for my own name.

When my assistant brought in my new business cards, I stared at them for a long time.

Elena Vance.

Managing Partner, Vance Consulting.

No Sterling Group.

No "Wife of Damian Sterling."

I slid the cards into a sleek silver case and snapped it shut.

Our launch celebration was merged with a networking gala hosted by one of our major partners.

I arrived a bit late. As I walked in, a group of old acquaintances was gathered near the bar.

When they saw me, their faces turned slightly awkward.

"Elena... long time no see."

The way they addressed me had changed.

I raised my glass of sparkling water and nodded. "Good to see you."

Midway through the evening, the host walked over with a tall man in a tailored suit.

"Elena, this is Ethan Black from Cypress Capital. His team will be overseeing the M&A pipeline we're partnering on."

Ethan Black wore a charcoal-grey suit. He held a neat business card in his hand.

When he saw me, he paused.

"Elena Vance?"

I looked up. "Do we know each other?"

He smiled warmly. "Columbia Business School, the annual debate championship. You were the third speaker. You locked the opposing team into a corner so tight they couldn't speak for ten seconds."

I hadn't expected anyone to remember that.

My grip on my glass relaxed slightly. "That was a lifetime ago."

"Not that long," he said, handing me his card. "I was in the audience. My professor told me to study your pacing."

The host chimed in, "What a small world! You two are alumni."

I looked at the card.

Ethan Black.

Managing Director, Cypress Capital.

The name was printed in clean, minimalist font.

He looked at me. "I haven't seen you around the Manhattan circuit these past few years."

His question was gentle.

There was no prying.

No pity.

I stared at the condensation on my glass. "I was busy building a runway for someone who didn't deserve it."

He didn't push for details.

"Well, you're back now. That's all that matters."

The warm lights of the venue caught his sharp profile. He stood tall, projecting a quiet, steady confidence.

I had heard too many empty promises from men in my life.

Damian had promised to remember my sacrifice forever.

Damian had promised half of everything.

Damian had promised I would never have to worry.

His words had been grand and empty.

Ethan Black simply offered a card.

"Let me know if your team needs anything for the upcoming integration," he said. "We will follow your protocols. I won't go over your head."

I looked up into his eyes.

Those words made me quiet for a moment.

He didn't say he would help me.

He said he would respect my protocols.

Treating me as an equal partner was far more reassuring than any empty sweet talk.

"Thank you," I said, sliding his card into my silver case. "I look forward to working with you."

He nodded. "Likewise."

Two weeks later, I signed my first independent contract under Vance Consulting.

On the day of the signing, my assistant laid the contract before me and uncapped a Montblanc pen, placing it by my right hand.

The client line did not read Sterling Group.

The consultant line did not carry anyone else's name.

I signed my name.

As I finished the last stroke, there was a knock on the door.

My assistant walked in, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. "Elena, Cypress Capital just confirmed. Mr. Black said they are ready to initiate the kickoff next Monday."

I closed the folder.

The silver card case on my desk caught the light, Ethan's card peeking out slightly.

This time, I didn't push it back in.

"Notify the team. Kickoff meeting tomorrow at 9:00 AM."

My assistant nodded and left.

I picked up the signed contract.

This time, the victory belonged entirely to me.