Reborn: Marrying My Cheating Ex's Uncle

—Elara POV:

I rose from the bed, my movements fluid and unhurried. The frantic popping of camera flashes seemed to slow, each burst of light illuminating the predatory calm on my face. I leisurely pulled the silk strap back onto my shoulder, my eyes never leaving Seraphina.

Her performance was flawless. The trembling lip, the tears threatening to spill over, the hand clutched to her chest as if she'd suffered a mortal wound.

A soft, humorless laugh escaped my lips. "Seraphina, your acting is as superb as ever."

Julian's brow furrowed in anger. "Elara! Watch your tone! Apologize to Seraphina now!" he snapped, his voice carrying the sharp edge of an Alpha's command.

I ignored him completely. His voice, which once had the power to make my heart flutter, was now just irritating noise. I turned my attention to the reporters, their cameras still aimed at me like weapons.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, my voice clear and carrying easily over the whispers. "Before we continue with this... drama, perhaps Miss Croft could explain something to us all."

I paused, letting the silence stretch, drawing every eye in the room.

"How, exactly, did you get a master keycard to my private suite?"

Seraphina's face went white. It was a flicker, almost imperceptible, but I saw it. She recovered quickly, her voice choked with feigned sincerity. "I... I was worried about you! I told the hotel manager it was an emergency!"

"An emergency?" I arched an eyebrow. "So you brought a welcoming committee of journalists to check on my health? How thoughtful."

A murmur rippled through the small crowd. A few of the reporters lowered their cameras, their expressions shifting from predatory excitement to curiosity. They smelled a different kind of story now.

I pressed my advantage. "You claim I'm 'cheating'. Where is the evidence? Where is this other man you saw?"

Seraphina, desperate to regain control, immediately pointed a shaking finger toward the bathroom. "He's in there! I saw him go in! I swear it!"

Julian's face, already a thundercloud of rage, darkened further. He didn't hesitate. He strode toward the bathroom, his powerful frame radiating fury. He was going to personally drag the man out and expose my 'infidelity' to the world.

I didn't move to stop him. I simply crossed my arms, waiting.

Julian yanked the bathroom door open with such force that it slammed against the interior wall.

The room was empty.

The window was ajar, the sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze from the open window. Nothing else.

"Impossible!" Seraphina shrieked, rushing past Julian. She stared into the empty bathroom, her eyes wide with genuine shock this time. "He was here! He was right here!"

I had to give her credit. She was a terrible person, but she was thorough. The Omega I'd ushered out the window fifteen minutes ago, his pockets full of enough cash to start a new life far away from here, had confirmed Seraphina's instructions: wait in the bathroom until Julian burst in.

Julian turned, his eyes narrowed with a flicker of confusion, but the suspicion was still aimed at me. "Where is he, Elara?"

I gave a delicate shrug. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Perhaps Miss Croft was seeing things."

As if on cue, a sharp knock came from the open doorway. The hotel's head of security, Mr. Henderson, stood there, flanked by two uniformed guards. He looked past the stunned crowd and addressed me directly, his voice a model of professional deference.

"Miss Vance, as per your instructions, we have secured and preserved all surveillance footage from this floor."

The word "surveillance" was a gunshot in the quiet room.

Seraphina flinched, a violent, uncontrollable tremor running through her body.

I saw her panic, and my cold smile widened. I turned to Mr. Henderson. "Excellent. Now, would you be so kind as to tell everyone who was loitering in this hallway for the last half-hour before I made my call?"

Mr. Henderson, a stern man in his fifties, glanced briefly at a pale Seraphina before answering in a clipped, official tone. "It was Miss Croft and the individuals she brought with her."

He wasn't finished. "The footage also shows Miss Croft escorting an unidentified Omega male to this floor via a service elevator approximately forty-five minutes ago."

A collective gasp swept through the room. It was a wave of sound, of shifting allegiances. Every eye in the room moved from me to Seraphina. The hunters had become the hunted.

All the color drained from her face, leaving it a pasty, mottled white. She grabbed Julian's arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his expensive suit. "Julian, no! It's not true! She's setting me up! She's lying!"

Julian's gaze swung between us, his expression a mess of confusion and ingrained loyalty to Seraphina. He wanted to believe her. I could see the desperate struggle in his eyes. But the facts were a wall he couldn't see past.

I pulled out my phone. I didn't need the video footage. Not yet. I just played the recording of my call to security.

My own voice, calm and collected, filled the room. "...I have reason to believe there has been an unauthorized entry... I need you to immediately secure all surveillance footage..."

I stopped the recording and met Julian's wavering gaze. "Now," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous pitch. "Do you still think I'm the one making a scene?"

His jaw worked, but no sound came out. For the first time since I'd known him, Julian Thorne was speechless in front of me.

I walked toward Seraphina. She was still clinging to Julian, looking up at me with eyes that now held not fake tears, but pure, venomous hatred. I looked down at her, a queen observing a groveling, failed usurper.

"You went to so much trouble to stage this grand play," I murmured, my voice soft but carrying the sharp edge of a razor. "What a pity I rewrote the script."

I looked at her, at the face that had haunted my dying moments.

"Your performance," I said, "is over."

Then, in front of her precious Julian and the gawking reporters, I raised my hand.

The sound of my palm connecting with her cheek was a sharp, satisfying crack that echoed in the silent suite.

Seraphina stumbled backward, tripping over her own feet and collapsing onto the plush carpet. She stared up at me, her hand pressed to her reddening cheek, her expression one of utter, uncomprehending disbelief.