Past Scars, Present Battles

Elena’s POV:

Trust, one of my biggest weaknesses, I always trust someone easily and quickly.

It was how Ethan found me.

It was why I had fallen for him.

And it was nearly the reason I had died.

But trust could also be turned into a weapon of destruction.

And this time, I wasn’t the one being used.

Am no longer the prey but the predator.

The flashback hit me as I walked into the Cross boardroom. Damien’s executives were already seated, murmuring about quarterly projections, but their voices faded under the sharp sting of memory.

I was ten again, standing in the back row of my parents’ estate ballroom, a forgotten shadow at my own birthday party. My mother had fussed over the guests, making sure every crystal flute was filled with champagne. My father had laughed with his business partners, bragging about his “perfect and wonderful family” which was not perfect at all.

But when I tugged on his sleeve, desperate for his attention, he brushed me off with a single word: “Later.”

Later never came.

By fourteen, I had learned that love in my house was transactional.

Obedience earned approval.

Silence brought peace.

I grew up believing that affection had to be worked for, not given.

So when Ethan smiled at me in college—warm, charming, interested—I mistook his attention for love and care.

I mistook his validation for safety and made him my safe space.

And by the time I realized I was wrong, it was too late.

Now, as I sat across from Damien Cross’s senior staff, that bitter lesson sharpened into something else.

Not fear.

Not fragility.

But Strategy.

Because I knew Ethan better than anyone. I knew what buttons he pressed, what lies he told, what weaknesses he hid.And his strengths.

And I was going to use every single one of them to my advantage and against him.

He would never see any of them coming.

The meeting began with chatter about a deal Ethan’s company had been chasing for months—a logistics firm with global shipping routes.

It was supposed to give him an edge against Damien.

“He’s desperate to close the deal,” Damien’s CFO explained.

“But we’ve learned they’re concerned about Cole Tech’s unstable cash flow.”

I leaned forward, pulse quickening. “It’s not just unstable. It’s fabricated.”

The room went silent.

All eyes turned to me. Even Damien’s.

“What do you mean?” the CFO asked carefully.

I folded my hands, steadying my voice. “Ethan’s been covering losses with inflated reports. He buries debt under new subsidiaries, then dissolves them before audits can catch up. It’s why he needs this logistics deal so badly—it would hide his bleeding accounts under the disguise of expansion and growth.”

Damien arched a brow, his gaze flickering with interest.

“And how do you know all this?”

“Because I used to help him proofread investor packets,” I said.

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to continue.

“He trusted me not to notice when the numbers didn’t add up in all the accounts.

But I did.

I just… ignored it.

Because I thought that’s what love meant—believing him no matter what.”

Silence stretched across the boardroom.

Damien was the one to break it. “Not anymore, it seems.”

The hint of pride in his tone startled me. I shook it off quickly, refocusing.

“If we expose this to the logistics firm, Ethan won’t just lose the deal. He’ll be forced to answer questions he can’t afford. And once investors start doubting him…”

“They won't invest in his company again,” Damien finished smoothly.

I nodded. “Exactly.”

The CFO looked uncertain. “Do we have proof?”

“I do.”

I slid a small USB drive across the table, the one I had hidden for months before Ethan betrayed me.

“Bank statements. Emails. Enough to raise suspicion, if not start a formal inquiry.”

Damien reached for the drive, his fingers brushing mine—an accident, or maybe not. His eyes lingered on me for a bit too long, searching, weighing.

Then he smirked.

Slow. Dangerous. Approving.

“Gentlemen,” he said to the room, rising to his feet, “it seems Miss Mendez just handed us the dagger. Now let’s see how cleanly we can use it.”

That night, Damien called me into his office.

The city lights stretched out behind him, glittering like fallen stars. He didn’t sit at his desk but stood by the window, glass of scotch in hand, his reflection fractured in the glass.

“You surprised me today.”

I folded my arms. “Because I’m not just a pawn?”

His mouth curved. “Because you’re sharper than most of the men in that room. And because you finally stopped letting Ethan write your story and life for you.”

I bristled. “I didn’t ‘let’ him. I—” I stopped, heat rising in my chest. “I trusted him. Because all my life, I’ve been taught to believe that trust was the only way to earn love. And Ethan… he knew that. He twisted it. He made me blind.”

Damien studied me quietly, his gaze softer than I expected for the first time. “And yet, here you are. Clear-eyed. Deadlier than before.”

I laughed bitterly. “Deadlier? I don’t feel deadly. I feel like I’m barely holding myself together.”

“That’s what makes you dangerous,” he said. “You don’t see it yet, Elena, but Ethan does. That’s why he’s scrambling. That’s why he’s lashing out in the press. He’s scared of what you can do to him.”

The word echoed inside me like a drumbeat. Ethan. Scared.

I had been afraid of him for so long—afraid of losing him, of being humiliated, of having nothing left. But Damien was right. Ethan was the one cornered now.

For the first time, the balance had shifted.

Two days later, the blow landed.

The logistics firm abruptly canceled its negotiation with Ethan’s company, citing “concerns about financial transparency.”

Within hours, rumors of Ethan’s fake accounts spread through the business world. His stock plummeted, his investors panicked, and his carefully molded image and reputation began to crack.

The look on his face when the news broke—splashed across every business and news channel in the country—was almost enough to make me laugh. Almost.

But the satisfaction was so good and nice.

Because this wasn’t just revenge anymore.

This was war.

Later that night, Damien poured two glasses of wine in his mansion's kitchen. He handed me one, then leaned against the counter, watching me with that unreadable expression.

“You did well,” he said simply.

I took a sip, trying to steady the adrenaline still rushing through me right now. “So I’m officially more than just a pawn now?”

He tilted his head. “You were never just a pawn, Elena. You just didn’t know how to move.”

My breath caught. The words were unexpected praise, almost. But there was something else in his eyes too, something that made my chest tighten and clutch.

Recognition. Respect. Interest.

And in that moment, I realized Damien wasn’t just using me for his war against Ethan. He was… watching me like a hawk.

Seeing me.

Not as a broken and gullible bride.

Not as a castoff.

But as someone capable of burning everything she touched.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if that terrified me…

Or thrilled me.

Because trust has always been my weakness.

But maybe, with Damien, it could become my strength.

If I dared to give it again.