ABANDONED WITH TRIPLETS: CLAIMED BY THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE

Six months later.

The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glittered under the glow of three-tiered crystal chandeliers. New York’s elite—old money dynasties, tech moguls, and high-fashion royalty—gathered for the annual Met Gala Spring Preview, an event where social standing was made or destroyed in a single evening.

Ethan Mercer adjusted his bowtie in the gilded restroom mirror, his hands shaking slightly.

Beside him in the corridor, Sabrina Vance smoothed down her crimson designer gown, snapping her fingers at an assistant. "Are you sure the press will cover our entrance, Ethan? We need positive PR after that horrific audit Sterling subjected us to."

"Don't worry," Ethan gritted his teeth, masking his mounting financial desperation. "I managed to secure an emergency investment from a European hedge fund. Tonight, we announce our merger. Everyone will forget about Claire and the rumors."

"Good," Sabrina sneered. "That pathetic woman is probably living in some government-subsidized housing by now anyway."

They walked into the grand ballroom, smiling falsely as camera flashes lit up their entrance. Ethan raised his glass, preparing to greet the chairman of the banking syndicate.

Suddenly, the string quartet stopped playing.

A collective gasp rippled across the vast ballroom. The heavy mahogany doors at the top of the grand marble staircase swung wide open.

"Announcing Mr. Nicholas Sterling," the master of ceremonies declared, his voice trembling with deference. "Accompanied by Mrs. Claire Hayes."

Every single head turned.

Ethan’s champagne glass slipped from his fingers, shattering onto the polished marble floor.

Descending the staircase on Nicholas Sterling’s arm was a woman who looked like a goddess reborn from fire. I wore an emerald-green silk gown custom-crafted to hug my curves, dripping in antique diamonds that once belonged to European royalty. My hair cascaded in elegant waves over bare, glowing shoulders, and my head was held high with an aura of absolute royalty.

Beside me, Nicholas looked breathtaking in a bespoke midnight tuxedo, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back, his eyes projecting lethal authority.

"Claire...?" Ethan whispered, his face draining of all color. "That’s impossible..."

"Is that... your ex-wife?" Sabrina stammered, her voice shrill with sudden jealousy and dread. "Why is she wearing the Hayes Dynasty Emeralds?!"

The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Nicholas guided me straight toward Ethan and Sabrina. Every major CEO and socialite watched in breathless silence.

I stopped two feet away from Ethan. I didn't flinch. I didn't look down.

"Good evening, Ethan," I said, my voice smooth as silk and cold as ice. "I believe you remember me."

Ethan trembled, his eyes darting between me and the towering figure of Nicholas Sterling. "Claire... what is this? What are you doing with him?"