THE GALA PREPARATION
Michelle's Pov
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom at Hayden's penthouse and looked at myself in the red dress I had bought months ago. The dress fit perfectly, and the color was bold and confident, exactly what I needed to feel strong tonight. My hands were shaking as I tried to put on my earrings and I had to stop and take a deep breath.
Tonight was the night. Tonight we would destroy Eliot in front of everyone who mattered to him. Tonight everything would change.
"Michelle?" Clara's voice came from the living room. "Can I come in?"
"Yes come in," I called out.
Clara walked into my bedroom, carrying a makeup bag, and stopped when she saw me. "Oh my god, Michelle," she said. "You look absolutely stunning." Her eyes widened with genuine admiration, and a warm flush of pride and happiness spread through me. Hearing her excitement made me feel seen and appreciated in a way that went beyond appearance, reminding me that small gestures of support could lift spirits and strengthen bonds in moments I hadn’t expected.
"Thanks," I said. "I'm so nervous I feel like I'm going to throw up."
"That's normal," Clara said and came over to fix my hair. "You're about to do something huge. Of course, you're nervous but you're also ready for this. You've been preparing for months."
"What if something goes wrong?" I asked. "What if the article doesn't get the attention we need? What if people don't believe us?"
"Then we'll deal with it," Clara said firmly. "But Michelle I've read that article. I've seen the evidence you and Hayden put together. There's no way people won't believe it, you have testimonies from multiple women. You have Eleanor's letters and you have financial documents. You have everything."
"I know," I said. "I just keep thinking about how powerful Eliot is and how many connections he has. What if he finds a way to spin this?"
“He can’t spin this,” Clara said. “Not when there’s this much evidence, not when it’s all laid out so clearly. He’s done, after tonight his life is over.” Her confidence was steady, almost fierce, and it gave me a fragile sense of justice finally tipping in my favor, as if the truth had reached a point where it could no longer be buried or ignored.
I looked at her in the mirror. "Do you really think so?" I asked.
"I know so," she said. "Now sit down and let me fix your makeup. You smudged your mascara."
I sat down and Clara worked on my face while talking to me about how strong I was and how proud she was of me. "Do you remember when we were in high school and you told me you just wanted a normal life?" she asked. "You said you wanted a family and a home and people who loved you."
"I remember," I said.
"Well you're going to have all of that," Clara said. "After tonight you'll be free to build whatever life you want, Hayden clearly loves you, Michelle. Anyone can see that when they look at him looking at you."
"We haven't really talked about what happens after tonight," I admitted. "We both said we have feelings for each other but we agreed to wait until after the gala to figure things out."
“Smart,” Clara said. “One huge life-changing event at a time. But just so you know I think you two are perfect for each other.” Her words made me pause, a mix of surprise and warmth blooming inside me. I hadn’t expected her to voice something so personal, and it stirred feelings I wasn’t quite ready to name. Still, hearing her perspective offered a quiet reassurance, a small nudge of hope that maybe, despite all the chaos and uncertainty, there was a possibility for connection, understanding, and something genuine between us that could survive the storm.
"Thanks Clara," I said. "For everything and for being here tonight and for being my friend even when I was a terrible friend to you."
"Stop," she said. "You already apologized for that and I already forgave you. Now we're just moving forward okay?"
"Okay," I said.
There was a knock on the door and Hayden’s voice came through. “Michelle? Are you almost ready? We need to leave in about twenty minutes.” I glanced at my reflection one last time, heart beating faster as the reality of what awaited us settled in. Twenty minutes felt both rushed and endless, a final stretch before everything changed, before decisions became actions and there was no turning back from the path I had chosen.
"Come in," I called out.
The door opened and Hayden walked in wearing a perfectly tailored black suit and he stopped when he saw me. His eyes went wide and he just stared at me without saying anything.
"Well?" I asked. "How do I look?"
"You look incredible," he said and his voice came out rough. "Absolutely incredible."
"Thanks," I said and felt my cheeks get warm. "You look really good too."
"I'll give you two some privacy," Clara said with a knowing smile. "I'll be in the living room."
She left and closed the door behind her and Hayden walked over to where I was standing. “How are you feeling?” he asked. The question was gentle, almost careful, and it made my composure waver. I took a slow breath, aware of how exposed I felt in that quiet space, emotions tangled and raw. His presence was grounding though, offering a sense of safety and concern that made it easier to stand there, honest and unguarded, even when I wasn’t sure how to put my feelings into words yet.
"Terrified," I admitted. "But also excited. Is that weird?"
"No it's not weird," he said. "I feel the same way. We've been working toward this for so long and now it's finally happening."
"Do you think we're ready?" I asked.
"I know we're ready," he said. "Marcus has the article ready to publish. All the evidence is in there. The timing is perfect, two hours before the gala starts so people will have time to read it and spread it before we even walk in the door."
"And you're sure about this?" I asked. "About destroying your father in front of everyone?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," Hayden said. "He deserves this Michelle. For what he did to you and to my mother and to Eleanor and to all those other women. He deserves to lose everything."
"Okay," I said. "Then let's do this."
Hayden reached out and took my hand. "No matter what happens tonight I want you to know that I'm proud of you," he said. "You survived something that would have broken most people and you turned it into strength. You're amazing Michelle."
"So are you," I said. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."
We stood there holding hands and looking at each other and I felt the familiar pull between us. I wanted to kiss him so badly but I knew if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop and we needed to get to the gala. The tension hummed between us, thick and intoxicating, making my pulse race. I forced myself to hold back, reminding myself that timing mattered, that this night demanded focus and control, even if every instinct urged me to lean in and forget everything else waiting beyond the door.
"We should probably go," I said.
"Yeah," he agreed but he didn't let go of my hand. "Michelle, after tonight after all of this is over I want to talk about us, no more contracts, no more rules. Just us figuring out what we want."
"I'd like that," I said.
"Good," he said and finally let go of my hand. "Now let's go take down my father."
We walked out to the living room where Clara was waiting and she clapped her hands when she saw us together. “You two look like you’re going to prom,” she said. “Except instead of dancing you’re going to ruin a terrible man’s life. I’m so proud.” Her teasing broke the tension, drawing a nervous laugh from me, and for a moment the weight of the night eased. Beneath the humor was solidarity and fierce support, reminding me I wasn’t facing this alone and that courage, once shared, felt far less frightening.
"Thanks Clara," I said and hugged her. "Thank you for being here."
"Always," she said. "Now go. I'll be watching everything unfold on social media."