Picking Up The Pieces

...Niomi's POV~...

I didn’t wait for explanations.

I didn’t wait for apologies either.

The moment Cynthia’s name lit up my screen again, I declined the call. When Stella tried reaching me, I didn’t even hesitate. I blocked her.

Just like that.

Done.

It was simple in my head, even if it didn’t feel simple in my chest.

We were over.

Whatever I thought I had. Whatever lies I allowed myself to believe. It all ended the night I stood in that doorway and watched my life split in two.

I moved out that same week.

Back to my original villa.

It was quieter there. Too quiet sometimes. No shared routines. No fake warmth. Just me, maids and walls that didn’t pretend to love me back.

And work.

I buried myself in it.

If I stayed busy enough, I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to replay voices. I didn’t have to remember the way Cynthia looked at me like I was disposable.

Morning meetings. Endless calls. Files that never stopped piling up.

I worked until my eyes burned.

And when I stopped, the silence got loud again.

That was the worst part.

My friends noticed.

At first it was just messages.

“You eating?”

“You okay?”

“You’ve been acting off.”

Then they stopped asking.

They started showing up instead.

With food. With noise. With laughter I didn’t feel like matching but still somehow needed.

“You can’t work your life away, Niomi,” one of them said, leaning back on my couch like she owned it.

“I’m fine,” I replied automatically.

She raised a brow. “That’s what people say right before they fall apart.”

I didn’t answer that.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

Slowly, I started functioning again. Not healing. Not moving on. Just existing in a way that looked normal from the outside.

But my mind still drifted.

To Cynthia.

To Stella.

And sometimes, against my better judgment, to her.

Mel.

The girl from the club.

I didn’t understand why she stayed in my head. I didn’t want her there.

But she was.

Uninvited.

Unexplained.

Then the invitation came.

A banquet.

High-profile. Powerful people. Fake smiles. Hidden agendas.

The kind of event where nothing was ever what it looked like.

And I already knew Cynthia would be there.

Stella too.

Of course they would.

Cynthia would try to act like nothing happened.

Stella would try something smarter. Something planned.

They always did.

But they didn’t know me anymore.

Not the version of me who trusted blindly.

I sat in my villa office that night staring at my laptop screen.

Files.

Videos.

Proof.

Everything I had quietly collected without telling a single soul.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

If they wanted a performance at that banquet, I would give them one.

But I would decide how it ended.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.

“Let them try,” I murmured under my breath.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel broken saying it.

I felt ready.

A knock came at the door a few minutes later.

“Come in,” I said without looking up.

My assistant stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.

“You called me in late,” he said carefully. “So I’m guessing this isn’t small.”

I turned my laptop slightly toward him.

“It’s not.”

He walked closer, eyes scanning the files on the screen. His expression changed immediately.

“That’s… Cynthia,” he said slowly.

“And Stella,” I added.

He exhaled through his nose. “So this is it then. The banquet.”

“Yes.”

He pulled a chair and sat across from me. “What exactly are you planning to do with this?”

I paused for a second.

Then I answered honestly.

“I’m not exposing them privately.”

He frowned slightly. “Publicly then.”

I nodded.

“At the banquet,” I said. “In front of everyone who thinks they know them.”

Silence settled between us.

Not uncomfortable. Calculating.

My assistant leaned back, thinking. “You know this will explode everything. Reputation, partnerships, everything they built.”

“That’s the point,” I said.

He studied me for a moment longer.

Then he nodded once. “Alright. Then we do it properly.”

“Properly?” I repeated.

“No glitches. No delays. The files need to be clean, timed, and impossible to deny.” He tapped the screen lightly. “We queue them in order. First the messages. Then the footage. Then the final clip.”

I watched him carefully. “And if they try to interrupt?”

He smirked slightly. “Then we make sure they can’t.”

That made something in my chest settle.

Not peace.

Control.

“Good,” I said quietly.

He stood up again. “I’ll handle the system prep tonight. You just focus on surviving the actual night.”

I let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“Surviving is easy,” I said.

I looked back at the screen.

“Watching them fall is the hard part.”

He didn’t respond to that.

He just left the room.

And when the door closed, I sat there alone again.

But this time, the silence didn’t feel empty.

It felt like the calm before impact.

...Mel's POV~...

“Do you have it?” I asked, my voice low.

My best friend didn’t even look up at first. She was already typing, like she knew I was going to ask.

“Of course I do,” she said casually. “You really think I’d leave you walking into something blind?”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“I don’t like surprises,” I muttered.

She finally turned her laptop toward me.

A file opened.

One name.

Niomi Sterling.

I went still.

My eyes scanned the screen as she read it out loud, like she was presenting a report.

“Niomi Sterling,” she said. “Sterling heiress. CEO. Twenty-three. American.”

I didn’t blink.

“Ex-fiancée of Cynthia Boyce,” she continued.

That made my jaw tighten slightly.

Then she added, almost offhandedly, “And… lesbian.”

That part lingered a little longer in the air than the rest.

I stared at the screen.

Not surprised.

Just… interested.

“Anything else?” I asked.

My friend shrugged. “She’s powerful. Private. Controlled. Doesn’t trust easily. And apparently she’s been dealing with a lot recently.”

I tilted my head slightly. “Recently?”

“She got cheated on,” she said simply. “Big scandal. Didn’t go public, but it hit her.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

So that’s what she was carrying.

My mind drifted back to her.

The club.

The way she looked at me without even realizing she was being obvious about it.

Like she wasn’t just seeing me.

Like she was trying not to feel something.

My friend closed the laptop. “Why are you asking about her anyway?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

Then I said, “No reason.”

She raised a brow.

I straightened up, pushing off the wall.

But even as I turned away, the name stayed in my head.

Niomi Sterling.

Like a problem I hadn’t decided whether to solve.

Or keep.

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