Chapter 2
Hadley sat on the cold bathroom floor for a long time, too sick and too drained to move. When she finally pulled herself up, she stared at her pale reflection in the mirror. She barely recognized herself.
The very next morning, the arrangements were made. Nyla didn’t waste time. A flight ticket was pressed into Hadley’s hand, along with a vague promise that someone would check on her now and then.
No goodbyes. No tears.
Just a quiet, painful shove out the door.
Hadley packed what little she could — clothes, a few books, and an old photo of her grandmother — and left without seeing Eric again. He never even looked her way.
At the airport, as she sat alone at the gate, she replayed everything over and over in her mind.
Linda’s fall.
Eric’s anger.
Nyla’s disappointment.
The faces of the guests whispering, judging.
None of it made sense.
And yet it was clear: she had been marked guilty, with no chance to defend herself.
When her flight was called, Hadley stood up slowly, her legs heavy, her heart even heavier.
This wasn’t just a trip.
This was exile.
She left everything she had ever known behind — the love she had dreamt of, the family she thought she had, the life she had carefully built.
And no one stopped her.
Years passed.
Far away from the city that had turned its back on her, Hadley built a new life.
But it wasn’t easy.
There were nights she cried herself to sleep. Days she thought about giving up.
Still, somewhere deep inside, a fire kept burning — small, stubborn, and fierce.
Hadley worked, studied, and grew stronger.
She learned to fight her own battles.
She learned to smile even when her heart ached.
Gone was the timid girl who had tailored herself for Eric Flynn’s approval.
In her place was a woman who needed no one’s permission to shine.
Hadley found work in the nightlife scene — a world so different, so wild, that no one cared about her past.
They cared only about the magic she created when she danced under the neon lights.
Mysterious, beautiful, untouchable — she became the star everyone whispered about but few ever truly met.
In the smoky clubs, men offered fortunes just to catch a glimpse of her.
She was no longer the desperate girl begging for love.
She was the prize.
One night, the club was packed tighter than ever.
The music was loud, the lights low. A dozen high-profile guests were seated in the VIP section — the kind of men who could buy anything they wanted.
But it wasn’t for money or fame that Hadley danced.
She danced for herself — for the girl she used to be, for the woman she was becoming.
After her performance, she slipped away backstage, ready to disappear into the night as she always did.
But tonight, fate had other plans.
Blocking her exit, standing tall and furious, was Eric Flynn.
He looked different — sharper, harder — but his presence was unmistakable.
The air between them crackled, heavy with all the years and all the pain.
Eric’s voice was low, almost a growl.
“Is this truly how you make your living now, Hadley?”
There was something desperate in his tone, something raw.
“Why not come back to me?”
Hadley tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, unreadable smile.
“If you’re eager to see me,” she said softly, “you’d better join the queue, darling.”
Then she brushed past him, leaving him standing there — stunned, furious, and helpless.
Just like she once had been.