They Erased Me. I Owned Their Empire Chapter 03

Christmas Eve, I woke up twenty-nine years old.

Nobody called.

At nine, the family chat lit up.

Mom, [HAPPY BIANCA DAY 🎄❤️ Sixteen years of our girl!]

Miles, [Best day of the year!!]

Dad, [Proud of you, sweetheart.]

Grant reacted with a heart.

I put my phone face-down on the dresser and opened my closet.

At the back hung a dress I’d bought two years ago and never worn. Midnight blue. Simple. Expensive in the way that doesn’t need to announce itself.

I’d bought it the day the Northgate deal closed. I’d told myself I’d wear it the day I stopped hiding.

Grant left at four. “Don’t wait up,” he said. “Long night.”

He didn’t ask if I was coming.

At seven, a black car pulled up outside. Callum stepped out. Dark coat. Snow in his hair. He was thirty-six, and he looked at people like he was actually listening to them, which in my experience was rare enough to be unsettling.

He took in the dress. Then my face.

“How are you?” he asked. “Real answer.”

“Terrified.”

“Good. That’s honest.” He opened the door. “Let’s go.”

The Calloway Grand ballroom glittered. Four hundred guests. Crystal everywhere. A twelve-foot tree. Above the stage, a banner in gold script.

Celebrating Our Future.

At the door, the hostess checked her list. Frowned.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a Wren Calloway.”

“She’s with me,” Callum said.

The hostess saw his name and went pale. “Of course, Mr. Reyes. The Northgate table is front left.”

We walked in.

I saw Mom first. Silver gown. She saw me and her face hardened in a single second.

She crossed the room fast.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “This is not the night for one of your moods. Go home, Wren. Please. Don’t ruin Bianca’s day.”

“It’s my day too.”

She stared at me blankly. Like I’d spoken another language.

Then she noticed Callum. Her smile snapped back into place. “Oh! Hello. I’m Diane Calloway.”

“I know,” Callum said. And walked me to our table.

Across the room, Bianca stood beside the stage. Red dress. My grandmother’s emeralds at her throat. Grant’s hand resting low on her back.

She saw me. Her eyes narrowed. She leaned up and whispered something. Grant turned.

He looked furious.

Then he looked at Callum. At the Northgate place card in front of me.

And for the first time, he looked confused.

The lights dimmed. Dad took the stage.

“Sixteen years ago tonight,” he began, “our family became whole.”

Applause. Bianca pressed a hand to her heart.

“And three years ago, my daughter saved this company.” He turned to her, eyes shining. “Tonight, I’m proud to announce that pending the board’s vote, Bianca Calloway will become our next CEO.”

The room roared.

“But first,” Dad said, “the person she brought to us. The investor who believed when nobody else did. Northgate has asked me to read the principal’s name myself.”

Callum stood. Walked to the stage. Handed my father a cream envelope with gold edges.

Dad looked at the front.

To be opened by Richard Calloway. On my birthday.

He frowned. Opened his mouth.

Bianca was faster.

She stepped up beside him, laughing, and plucked the envelope from his hands. “Daddy, let me! I’ve waited three years for this.”

She tore it open. Leaned into the microphone. Smiled at four hundred people.

And began to read.

“Dad. You’ve wanted to meet me for three years.”

Her smile froze.