The Return of the Neglected Wife

The city was alive with energy, as it always was, but tonight, it felt different. It felt like the world was holding its breath. I stepped out of the sleek black car, my heels clicking sharply against the pavement, announcing my arrival even before I did. The tall, shimmering towers of the city loomed over me, their lights twinkling like distant stars, reflecting off the glossy glass of the extravagant event hall in front of me. The invitation to the gala was one I hadn't expected—sent by someone who once controlled my life. But I wasn't the woman I used to be. I had spent two years building myself into something far stronger than the meek woman who had left this city broken and defeated.

The dress I wore was deep crimson, form-fitting, crafted from luxurious fabric that hugged my curves. The plunging neckline was bold but elegant, showcasing the confidence I'd fought so hard to reclaim. My dark, wavy hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, framing my face—clear, sharp, and undeniably beautiful. I wore the look of someone who no longer apologized for existing, no longer cowered in the shadows of anyone else's expectations. I was Malia Brown, a force in my own right, and tonight, I was here to prove it.

Inside the grand hall, the gala was in full swing. The soft hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of champagne flutes and the strains of an elegant string quartet in the background. The guests—elite businessmen, their wives, and influential socialites—wore smiles that barely hid the constant undercurrent of competition. Who had the best dress? Who had the most powerful connections? Who had the most to prove? But I had no interest in any of that. I wasn't here to fit into their world; I was here to show the world—show him—that I was no longer the woman he could ignore.

I had seen the press coverage of his latest ventures. Salvatore Industries was booming, and his name was on the lips of everyone, from Wall Street to the local tabloids. But where had he been when I had needed him? When my heart had been crushed beneath the weight of his indifference? He had disappeared into the arms of Selene, leaving me behind like a discarded page in a book he was finished reading. But that was then. This was now. I wasn't here to reclaim him—I was here to reclaim myself.

As I entered the ballroom, every head turned in my direction. Whispers rippled through the crowd, some recognizing me from my past, others struck by the fierce confidence I now exuded. I had always been understated before, but tonight, I commanded attention with a quiet, magnetic force. I could feel their eyes on me, but it didn't matter. This was my night.

I made my way through the crowd, shaking hands with key players in the business world. My charm and wit were weapons I wielded effortlessly now. I laughed genuinely, my confidence contagious. No one would guess I was the same woman who had once been left heartbroken, locked in the cold chambers of a marriage that had never been a partnership.

I barely paid attention to the conversations swirling around me until I caught sight of something—no, someone—I hadn't expected to see.

Nixus Salvatore.

It was like the room had suddenly quieted. The noise, the chatter, the music—they all seemed to fade into the background as my eyes locked onto his. My heart stopped, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I wasn't the woman who had spent two years rebuilding herself from the ground up. I was the girl who had once believed she would never be enough for him. His presence sent a ripple through me, bringing up memories I thought I had buried. I could feel the pull—dangerous, reckless. My heart still knew him.

He hadn't changed much. He still carried himself with that same quiet arrogance, the same commanding presence that could silence a room with just a look. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his jaw sharp as ever, and those eyes—the ones that had once haunted me—were still as intense as ever. There was a flicker of surprise in his gaze when he saw me, followed by something darker, something possessive. I didn't know if I was imagining it, but it didn't matter.

He was looking at me. Really looking at me.

I knew I was no longer the woman who would crumble under his gaze. But that didn't mean I wasn't affected. I wasn't sure if I was angry or if the rush of emotions was a sign of something else. Something I didn't want to admit. Something I wasn't ready to confront.

Before I could even process what I was feeling, Nixus excused himself from his conversation and started walking toward me. Every step he took was deliberate, measured. He was closing the distance, and I didn't know whether to brace myself or stand tall and face whatever was coming my way.

"Malia," he said, his voice low and familiar. A little too familiar. It felt like it hadn't changed at all, even after two years. He wasn't trying to be kind, nor was he playing the role of the charming businessman. It was just him, the Nixus I had once known—cold, calculating, but still able to make my heart race. "I didn't expect to see you here."

I raised an eyebrow and forced myself to keep my composure. "I could say the same about you, Nixus," I replied, my voice calm but sharp. I wasn't about to let him think he could affect me any more than he already had.

He just stared at me, his eyes scanning me in a way that made my skin tingle. I held my ground, letting the silence hang between us, each of us weighing the other. This was not the time for pleasantries, not the time to pretend we hadn't both been through hell in the years that had passed since we last saw each other.

"I didn't think you'd ever come back to the city," he said, his voice quieter now, softer almost, as if he was trying to gauge me, trying to read what had changed about me. "You look… different."

"I am different," I said, my voice steady. "And you should be used to that by now."

I saw the brief flicker in his eyes, something that could've been surprise or maybe even regret. Whatever it was, it was gone too quickly to catch, replaced by that same mask of control, that same cold indifference he had always worn so well.

"You look good, Malia," he added, almost as if he were reminding himself. "I'm glad to see you're… doing well."

"Doing well?" I echoed, a bitter laugh escaping before I could stop it. "Is that what you think? That you can show up and say that, like everything is fine?"

I could see him wrestle with his expression. For a moment, he looked like he didn't know how to respond, but then his lips twitched, as though he was trying to suppress a smile. The smile that used to make my heart flutter. The smile that used to make me forget everything else.

But not anymore.

"You always were…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "Different from everyone else."

"Yeah," I said, my voice softening for just a moment. "I was. And I'm still different. Only now, I'm doing this for me. Not for you."

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space between us. "Malia," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "You don't know what it's been like, without you."

I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to feel the slightest hint of that pull, the desire to forgive, to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could change.

"I know exactly what it's been like, Nixus," I said, my voice sharper now. "It's been you and her. Always her. And I'm done with it. I'm done being your afterthought."

For a moment, we stood there, both of us on the edge of something we hadn't been prepared for. The tension was thick between us, and I could feel the weight of the past pressing down on both of us.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, I turned away, forcing my legs to carry me further into the crowd. I didn't need him to finish that sentence. I didn't need his apologies or his explanations. I had spent too long being the woman who waited for him. Now, I was the woman who walked away.

But then, just as I thought I had escaped him, I felt it—the unmistakable presence of someone watching me. My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively turned, my eyes locking onto the person standing across the room.

Selene.

She was standing there, calm as ever, with a smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. There was no mistaking what that look meant. This was a battle, and I was right in the middle of it.

The air between us was electric, the kind of tension that could only come from years of unspoken rivalry, of hearts left scarred and raw. I could feel her eyes on me, calculating, assessing. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

And I wasn't going to back down now.

I tried to turn away, but her gaze stayed locked on mine, and at that moment, I knew things were about to get a lot more complicated.