Chapter 9
The invitation came on a silver-embossed card, the kind usually reserved for charity galas or high-society weddings. Katherine found it tucked in the morning stack of mail on her office desk, mixed in with contracts and client proposals.
She nearly tossed it aside, until she saw the name at the bottom.
Nash Group – Annual Winter Summit.
Her hand froze mid-air.
A year ago, this invite would’ve meant everything to her. She would’ve agonized over the right dress, stayed up nights preparing to make Julian proud, hoping he’d just say she looked nice, or maybe—even once—hold her hand in public.
Now it felt like a strange ghost of the past, returned just to mock her.
Ivy raised an eyebrow when she saw it on the table. “You’re not actually thinking of going, are you?”
“I’m not sure,” Katherine admitted. “It’s probably just routine—they send it to every executive and partner in the city.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to walk into their den like nothing happened.”
Katherine didn’t answer.
But that night, she stood in front of the mirror, holding a long black gown against her body. It wasn’t flashy, but it was sharp—simple elegance that spoke without shouting.
She didn’t want revenge.
She wanted presence.
To walk in with her head high and let them all see what they lost.
And more importantly—what she had found without them.
When the night of the event arrived, the hotel ballroom shimmered with crystal lights, velvet curtains, and a sea of powerful names dressed in black and gold. Waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne, and soft music played beneath the hum of business conversations and polite laughter.
Katherine stepped through the entrance like she owned the room.
People turned.
Some whispered.
Some stared.
And Julian—standing by the bar with a glass of scotch in his hand—froze completely.
He didn’t recognize her at first.
Not because her face had changed, but because her entire aura had.
She wasn’t the woman who used to trail behind him like a shadow. She wasn’t the timid wife waiting to be acknowledged.
She was radiant.
Whole.
Untouchable.
Their eyes met across the room, and for a moment, the noise faded. Time stood still. Julian’s grip tightened around his glass.
He took a breath, stepped away from the bar, and moved toward her.
But before he could say a word, Katherine turned away—and smiled at the man standing beside her.
Tall. Confident. Familiar in a strange, deliberate way.
Julian’s steps faltered.
Because the man looked like him. Not identical—but close enough to sting.
It hit him all at once.
The resemblance wasn’t accidental.
Katherine had replaced him—with someone who looked just enough like him, but carried none of his coldness.
She didn’t just walk away.
She left with a message.
And now, Julian was finally hearing it loud and clear.