Chapter 9
I didn’t spare him another glance, nor did I acknowledge my hysterical parents behind me.
I called security and had every troublemaker escorted out.
Just as I expected, my parents had no intention of letting go of their “cash cow” so easily.
At first, it was a relentless barrage of phone calls and abusive texts.
Then, somehow, they managed to track down a few tabloid reporters who camped out in front of my office, phones out, streaming live.
“Famous designer Ivory Syrell–ungrateful daughter! Abandoned her parents and kept the whole eight million dollars for herself!”
Unfortunately for them, they underestimated me.
I was no longer that helpless little girl they could push around.
My legal team immediately issued a strongly worded cease–and–desist letter and public statement, and quickly submitted all relevant evidence to the court.
At the same time, the PR firm I’d hired took control of the narrative, exposing the truth.
The most devastating blow came from the witnesses I presented.
My high school homeroom teacher detailed exactly how my parents had tried to sabotage my education.
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Several elderly neighbors who’d watched me grow up testified to the years of abuse I’d suffered at home.
A forensic report on my old injuries sealed the case.
Public opinion flipped in an instant.
In the end, I severed all ties with my parents and finally, truly, became
free.
Felicity found Carlos in the corner of a noisy, dimly lit bar.
“Carlos!”
She rushed over, trying to pry the bottle from his hand.
“Don’t do this! Look at what you’ve done to yourself! Is any of this worth it for a woman like Ivory? You’re destroying yourself–can’t you see how much it hurts me to watch?”
Carlos lifted his head, eyes glazed with drink, and looked at Felicity—her makeup flawless, her face full of concern.
“It hurts?”
He echoed her, his gaze fixed on her face.
“Then tell me, Felicity…”
He leaned in, breath heavy with alcohol, enunciating every word.
“Do you love me for my money, too?”
Felicity froze, her eyes flickering with panic for just a second before she pushed it away.
“Carlos! How could you think that of me? Of course not! I love you for
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who you are. Money has nothing to do with it!”
She reached for his hand, desperate to prove her sincerity.
But Carlos jerked his hand away.
“Really…? No?”
He let out a cold laugh.
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“Then tell me your company just lost the Lumina contract, your funding is about to dry up… So why are you here now?”
He paused, watching the color drain from Felicity’s face, her eyes darting away. In that moment, he understood everything.
“Get out.”
He pointed to the door. “Get out of here.”
Felicity, humiliated and furious, stomped her foot, grabbed her purse, and stormed out of the bar.
Carlos slumped back onto the couch, his head pounding.
In his haze, he was suddenly transported back to the blindingly bright hallways of high school.
A girl in a faded, patched–up uniform stood in front of him, her smile tentative, clutching a well–worn workbook, stubbornly blocking the path of him and his gang of troublemaking friends.
Her voice echoed in his ears, awkward but sincere.
“Carlos, don’t get into fights…”
How had he responded back then?
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He’d brushed her off impatiently, called her a busybody, mocked her as a “nerd,” “pauper,” “pathetic little lapdog,” and strutted away to the laughter of his friends…
The truth was, even back then, when he’d first arrived at school, he’d thought there was something special about her.
Ivory was always top of the class, the teachers‘ shining example, but because of her poverty and those patched clothes, she became a target for ridicule.
Carlos–golden boy, center of attention.
He liked Ivory.
But he cared too much about what others thought, terrified they’d mock him for liking that “poor nerd.”
That secret, unacknowledged affection twisted into cruelty and scorn, just like everyone else.
He’d even convinced himself that no matter how badly he behaved or how many times he trampled on her feelings, Ivory would always be there, waiting for him if he so much as crooked a finger.
Carlos laughed, then cried. He was supposed to be an Alpha, yet he’d never had the courage to admit his own feelings.
He really never deserved my love.
And I, Ivory Syrell, had long since left all that family drama and pain far behind.
Under my leadership, Lumina’s business in the Moonlit Pack was unstoppable.
My designs–unique, vibrant, full of life–quickly captured the attention
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of the luxury market.
www
One successful launch after another, every glowing sales report, all steadily cemented my reputation and status.
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I knew, more than anything, that only by standing high enough could you truly be free.
The Ivory of the past endured three years of hell for a one–way ticket out.
The Ivory of today was carving out her own world, chasing her dreams with talent and relentless effort.
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