The fallout from the rejected Cassel deal rippled quietly through the city.
Stone Enterprises' competitors were confused. Some assumed Alexander had another offer in the works. Others whispered that the company was in decline. But the inner circle knew the truth:
Alexander Stone had made a powerful enemy one that operated in the shadows.
And Amelia Stone?
She was now officially a threat.
Her voice in meetings. Her insight. Her presence beside Alexander. It wasn't just decorative anymore.
It was influence.
And it didn't take long for that influence to be challenged.
It began at a women's business luncheon Amelia had been invited to by Miriam Devereaux. Hosted at a sleek private rooftop club, the guest list included CEOs, media moguls, and female investors women who were used to ruling their worlds without applause.
Amelia walked in wearing a white power dress with gold accents clean, simple, commanding.
Miriam greeted her with a hug and a smile. "You've shaken the room already, darling. Half of them came just to see if the rumors about you were real."
Amelia laughed softly. "I hope they're disappointed."
"Oh no," Miriam smirked. "They're terrified."
Amelia moved through the event with elegance, shaking hands, making quiet observations, asking the right questions. But one woman didn't bother pretending.
Her name was Celeste Voss.
CEO of a major luxury branding empire. Mid-thirties. Known for her icy perfection, scandal-proof reputation, and a reputation for dismantling anyone who got in her way.
Amelia had never met her.
But as soon as their eyes met across the room, she knew:
This was her first real enemy.
Celeste walked over slowly, her champagne glass untouched.
"You must be the new Mrs. Stone," she said, tone flat and polished.
Amelia offered a calm smile. "And you must be Celeste. I've heard about your work with the Paris expansion."
"Yes, well… unlike most, I let my work speak louder than my surname."
The jab landed.
Subtle. Sharp.
Amelia didn't flinch.
"I believe in letting results speak too," she replied. "Though in my case, they've started speaking a little too loudly lately."
Celeste's eyes flickered.
"I imagine it must be challenging—stepping into a man's world while wearing his ring."
Amelia raised her glass slightly. "Only if you're afraid to be seen beside him instead of behind him."
Boom.
Miriam, who had lingered nearby, choked on her water.
Celeste's smile tightened. "Just be careful, Amelia. This world eats women like you alive."
"I'm not here to be eaten," Amelia replied. "I'm here to learn the menu."
Later that evening, Alexander waited for her in the lounge. He stood when she entered, his phone in hand, concern written across his face.
"You met her," he said.
"Celeste?" Amelia shrugged. "Briefly."
"She's dangerous."
"I got that impression."
"She and I had a… short history," he admitted. "Before you."
Amelia's expression didn't change. "How short?"
"Three weeks. Business dinners. Talks of a partnership that turned personal. Nothing lasting. But she wanted more."
"Did you lead her on?"
"No," he said firmly. "But I didn't stop her fast enough."
"And now?"
"She sees you as a replacement for something she couldn't control."
Amelia nodded slowly. "So I'm not just your wife. I'm her failure."
He moved closer. "She'll try to discredit you. Disrupt you."
"I know."
Alexander paused. "Do you want me to handle it?"
Amelia met his gaze.
"No," she said quietly. "This one's mine."
The next morning, Amelia received a formal invitation from Voss International a private fashion and business gala. Hosted by Celeste herself. Held in her flagship tower.
It was a message.
Step into my world. Let's see if you can breathe here.
Amelia accepted.
Not with arrogance.
But with intention.
That night, as Ruth zipped her into a sleek black dress with silver detailing, Amelia looked at herself in the mirror and whispered:
"She thinks I'm soft."
Ruth smiled faintly. "Then make her regret thinking it."
The Voss Gala was a palace of mirrors and control. High fashion, colder smiles. Deals made with eye contact and destroyed with a word.
Amelia walked in alone.
She didn't need Alexander tonight.
This battle required no shield.
Only clarity.
Celeste approached her like a slow-moving blade.
"Glad you came," she said, offering a single air kiss.
"I wouldn't miss it," Amelia replied. "You throw a beautiful distraction."
Celeste led her toward the investors' circle like a lion showing off a fresh arena.
"I hear you're becoming quite the strategist," Celeste said, sipping wine. "But strategy only works when people think you've earned your place."
Amelia stopped walking.
Turned.
And with every eye in the room subtly watching, she said:
"I didn't marry Alexander to earn a place. I built one before I met him. But thank you for the reminder every empire has its challengers. Some just don't last long enough to matter."
Celeste froze.
Only for a moment.
Then smiled. Cold. Deadly.
"This will be fun."
Amelia leaned closer.
"No, Celeste. This will be history."
And she walked away calm, poised, untouched.
But not unaware.
She knew what this was.
Her first enemy had arrived.
And this war… wasn't going to be fought with bullets.
But with whispers, influence, and reputation.
The most dangerous kind.
And Amelia Stone?
Was ready.