Chapter 2
1970words
I stood on Columbia University's graduation stage, gold-rimmed degree certificate gleaming in the June sunlight. Below, there was no applauding family, no proud mother—only myself and that flame of revenge forever burning in my heart.
Educational Psychology degree, straight A's, outstanding graduate.
My fingers traced the embossed golden letters on the certificate, each character representing my blood and sweat over these ten years. Waiting tables during the day, bartending at night, still hunched over textbooks in the library at three in the morning. My hands covered with burn scars, my back aching from years of labor, but my determination never wavering for a moment.
Because I know each suffering is another step toward the altar of revenge.
After the ceremony, I walked into the restroom and cut off my long hair before the mirror. Black strands floated down like rain, taking away the last trace of the weak girl I once was. The woman in the mirror had sharp short hair, cold eyes, and a dangerous charm emanating from her very core.
I changed into a tailored gray business suit—purchased with three months' worth of tips. The skirt hit just at my knees as I walked gracefully and confidently in stiletto heels.
Miss Ella Vance, ready to go.
---
Upper East Side Manhattan, Park Avenue Private College.
This is one of America's most elite private elementary schools, with tuition at one hundred thousand dollars a year and a waiting list more competitive than Harvard's. The campus occupies an Art Deco building where every marble slab is worth a fortune.
I sat in the principal's office, perfectly playing the role of "young teacher with educational ideals." My resume was impeccable: outstanding graduate from Trinity College, master's in Educational Psychology from Columbia University, internships at three prestigious private schools, and recommendation letters from authorities in the field.
Of course, no one knew these recommendation letters were meticulously forged, those internship experiences fabricated, and even my Trinity College records "appropriately" modified.
"Miss Vance, your background is impressive," said the principal, an elegant woman in her fifties wearing a pearl necklace and speaking with a slight British accent. "However, I'm curious—with your qualifications, why choose our school?"
I offered a gentle smile—an expression I'd practiced thousands of times. "Principal Helena, I believe in education's power to transform lives. During my years at Trinity, I witnessed firsthand the impact quality education has on children. Now, I hope to pass this influence to the next generation."
"Such moving dedication." The principal nodded with satisfaction. "Is there a particular class you'd like to teach?"
"Second grade," I answered without hesitation. "I believe seven to eight years old is the golden period for cultivating children's values."
I certainly knew that seven-year-old Evelynn Braxton was in second grade. Serafina's daughter, a key piece in my revenge plan.
A week later, I received my employment notice.
---
I rented a one-bedroom apartment on Central Park's west side—specifically, on the 15th floor of a building directly across from Serafina and Damian's mansion.
The rent was ridiculously expensive, nearly depleting my savings, but the location was utterly perfect. Through floor-to-ceiling windows, I could clearly see the limestone mansion across the street occupying an entire block. That was the New York residence of the Braxton family, worth over fifty million dollars.
Every morning, I observed life across the street with high-powered binoculars. At seven o'clock, housekeeping staff began their busy work; at seven-thirty, Evelynn ate breakfast with her nanny; at eight, Damian's Rolls-Royce appeared right on time to take him to his Wall Street office; at eight-fifteen, Serafina's driver took her in a white Bentley to various social events.
I recorded every detail of their lives like a morbid anthropologist studying a rare species. Damian liked smoking cigars on the balcony, usually Cuban Cohibas; Serafina went to Lenox Hill Hospital every Tuesday for "charity work," but actually left after only two hours to go shopping; little Evelynn was introverted, often sitting alone on the windowsill reading books.
After a month of observation, I understood this family more deeply than they understood themselves.
And today was my formal debut.
---
The Sterling Family Charity Gala.
This was the premier event on New York's social calendar, held in the Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Tickets started at fifty thousand dollars, and the guest list consisted of Forbes list regulars. Tonight's theme was "Educational Equity," specifically funding school construction in impoverished areas.
How ironic.
I received the invitation through my school—as an "excellent commoner educator who graduated from Trinity," I was held up as a living example of success, proving how elite education could elevate people from society's bottom ranks.
I wore a black silk evening gown, simply designed but perfectly tailored to accentuate my figure. This dress cost two months' salary, but the effect was worth every penny. My hair was arranged in an elegant low bun, and around my neck hung a vintage pearl necklace—purchased from a pawnshop.
The makeup artist spent two hours creating my look, making me appear both professional and stunning. The woman in the mirror was dangerously beautiful, with eyes deep as the ocean and lips curved in a mysterious smile.
At seven o'clock, my driver—temporarily hired for the evening—pulled up in a rented Mercedes S-Class at the museum entrance.
The red carpet stretched before me, with flashbulbs and cameras on both sides. I stepped out gracefully, smiling at the media. Reporters from several outlets recognized me—"the inspirational teacher from Trinity" had become something of a minor celebrity.
"Miss Vance! Can you share your feelings tonight?" A young female reporter thrust a microphone toward me.
I displayed that gentle smile I'd practiced a thousand times: "I'm deeply honored to participate in such a meaningful event. Education changes destiny—this isn't just a slogan, but a truth I've personally experienced."
Amidst flashing lights, I walked toward the museum entrance. My heart pounded wildly, but my expression remained flawless.
The game begins now.
---
The museum interior was decorated like heaven. Crystal chandeliers cast soft light, making Egyptian artifacts appear mysterious and solemn beneath their glow. Three hundred of New York's most influential figures mingled here, their jewelry worth more than the GDP of a small country.
I navigated through the crowd with a champagne flute, each smile perfectly measured, every word carefully calculated. Several prominent education figures conversed with me, praising my "inspirational story." I responded humbly while inwardly sneering.
If they only knew the truth behind this story...
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's charity gala!"
The host's voice rang out, drawing everyone's attention to the stage. Under the spotlight, Seraphina Sterling slowly walked onto the stage.
Time froze in that instant.
She was still breathtakingly beautiful. The decade had only left traces of maturity, transforming her from the sharp beauty of her youth into something more lethally elegant. She wore a midnight blue silk gown that flowed like seawater. A diamond necklace glittered on her swan-like neck—worth about two million dollars, I estimated.
Her golden hair was arranged in an intricate bun, with a few strands deliberately falling near her temples, creating effortless sensuality. Her blue eyes scanned the room with an innate sense of authority.
"Tonight, we gather here for a sacred mission," her voice clear as silver bells but now carrying the magnetism of a mature woman. "Education is the only path to freedom. It is our responsibility to light the lamp of hope for children born into unfortunate circumstances."
The audience erupted in enthusiastic applause. I clapped too, but my eyes were sharp as a knife's edge.
"Tonight, I'd especially like to introduce a special guest," Seraphina continued. "She is the best proof of our educational equality philosophy. Let us welcome Miss Ella Vance—an outstanding educator from Trinity who has demonstrated through her own life the true meaning of how education can change destiny."
The spotlight suddenly shone on me. All eyes in the venue focused on me, including Seraphina's.
In that moment, our gazes met.
I saw her pupils slightly contract, her smile freezing for an instant. She recognized me. Of course, how could she possibly forget a face with whom she had once "communicated so deeply"?
But quickly, her expression returned to normal, even becoming warmer. Her professional training as a socialite ensured she wouldn't reveal any flaw in public.
"Miss Vance, please come to the stage!" She extended her hand to me, her voice sweet as honey.
I walked elegantly toward the stage. Each step landed perfectly, every angle flawless. Cameras below frantically captured this moment—"The heartwarming meeting between a socialite and an inspirational teacher."
I walked onto the stage, facing the audience. Three hundred pairs of eyes watched me, but my gaze fixed only on Seraphina.
"Miss Vance, would you like to share your experience with everyone?" She handed me the microphone, her smile still perfect.
I took the microphone, my voice clear and powerful: "Thank you, Ms. Sterling. Eighteen years ago, I was just a working-class girl from Brooklyn. Holy Trinity taught me what excellence truly means."
I paused, letting these words take effect.
"But the most important lesson wasn't academic knowledge—it was resilience. Trinity taught me that no matter what challenges I face, I must maintain my dignity and determination. Over the years, this lesson has guided me through every difficult moment."
Applause erupted from the audience again. I saw tears in several ladies' eyes—moved by this inspirational story.
Serafina applauded too, but I noticed her hands trembling slightly.
"What a beautiful sharing!" She took back the microphone. "This is the power of education—it not only changes individual destinies but can influence entire societies. Let's applaud Miss Vance for her journey!"
The applause grew even more enthusiastic. In this moment, I knew the timing was perfect.
I walked toward Serafina with open arms. Under the gaze of all cameras, we embraced each other warmly.
Her body stiffened instantly, but professional instinct prevented her from stepping back. Her Hermès perfume still smelled the same as eighteen years ago—a blend of lavender and bergamot, noble and aloof.
I embraced her tightly, like old friends who hadn't seen each other for years. Then I gently leaned closer to her ear.
"Hello, Serafina." My voice was soft enough that only she could hear, with an icy coldness. "It's been eighteen years. I've missed you."
I felt her breath stop for a moment.
"You know what? All these years, I've been dreaming about you. Every lonely night, every painful moment, I've been imagining this day when I would see you again."
She tried to push me away, but my arms tightened. To onlookers, we were just sharing an emotional embrace.
"I want to tell you a secret," I continued whispering, my voice slithering into her ear like a snake. "From today onwards, dear Serafina, my dream is your destruction."
I felt her entire body trembling.
"Welcome to my world," I finally said, then released her.
When we parted, I still maintained that perfect smile. But in Serafina's eyes, I saw fear—the instinctive fear a predator feels when confronting a more powerful predator.
The audience's applause continued, flashbulbs still flickering. No one knew that behind this seemingly warm embrace, a deadly game had officially begun.
I gracefully walked off the stage, disappearing into the crowd. But before leaving, I glanced back at Serafina.
She stood on stage, her smile still professional, but I knew her inner world had begun to collapse.
Just as I was about to leave the venue, my phone vibrated. A message from Julian:
"She just made a phone call in the bathroom. I heard her mention your name—Sophia Chen. She remembers you."
My fingers paused on the screen for a second, then I slowly curved my lips into a smile.
Good. Now things are getting interesting.
