The Empress Who Buries Her Past

I sacrificed my womb and my youth to build Alec' s architectural empire from the shadows.

He repaid me by bringing his mistress, Billie, to frame me for plagiarism and destroy my reputation.

When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Billie used her influence to block his life-saving surgery.

Alec held my dying father' s life hostage, forcing me to my knees in front of the woman who ruined me.

"Apologize to her, Cydney," he commanded, "or I pull the plug."

I begged. I scraped my dignity off the floor. But they let my father die anyway.

Discarded and humiliated, I vanished in a plane crash, leaving only a wedding ring in a landfill.

Years later, at a global summit, Alec watched his company crumble under the attacks of a ruthless new rival.

He grabbed the woman in the emerald dress, his hands trembling as he recognized the eyes he thought were gone forever.

"Cydney? You're alive?"

I smiled, cold as ice.

"Ms. Frazier is dead, Alec. I' m the one who' s going to bury you."

Chapter 1

My world cracked wide open the moment Billie Thomas walked into my newly opened design studio, her eyes wide and overflowing with fabricated tears. I had just launched "Frazier Designs," a small, bespoke architectural firm I'd poured my soul into for the past six months. It was a leap of faith, a step towards a future I'd put on hold for too long, just before I committed to a deferred master's program abroad.

"Cydney," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, yet loud enough to echo in the quiet space.

She looked like a drowned kitten, all vulnerability and despair. Her expensive dress was rumpled, her usually perfect hair disheveled. It was a performance I recognized, one Alec had always fallen for.

"Billie," I replied, my voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside me. "To what do I owe this… unexpected visit?"

She collapsed onto the plush velvet sofa, burying her face in her hands. Her sobs filled the room, theatrical and practiced. I watched her, my professional facade firmly in place. I was an architect, yes, but also a trained therapist, a skill I' d cultivated to manage Alec' s volatile family, never imagining I' d use it on his mistress.

"I can't... I can't do this anymore," she choked out between gasps. "The pressure. The expectations. It's too much."

She lifted her head, her mascara-streaked eyes meeting mine. "You wouldn't understand, Cydney. You've always had everything. A loving family, a brilliant mind. You never had to claw your way up from nothing."

Her words were a subtle jab, a reminder of the perceived chasm between us. She was right about one thing; I hadn' t clawed. I' d built. But my foundations were crumbling fast.

"What exactly are you struggling with, Billie?" I asked, my voice calm, almost detached. My heart, however, was a frantic drum against my ribs.

She sniffled, pulling a silk handkerchief from