Chapter 3: Silas Croft

The towering headquarters of Vance Industries loomed over the city's financial district like a silent king. At exactly 9 a.m., a sleek black car pulled up at the front steps. The door opened, and out stepped Ella Vance.

She was dressed in a sharply tailored navy-blue suit, heels clicking with precision, every movement calm and lethal. The moment she walked through the lobby doors, the entire building seemed to hold its breath.

The employees froze. Conversations died. Phones stopped mid-ring. It wasn't just her return that shocked them—it was the commanding presence that radiated off her in waves. Ella Vance wasn't just back. She was here to take back everything.

Inside the boardroom, the air was thick with tension.

The top executives, board members, and current management were all already seated. Damian Blackwood, acting CEO, sat stiffly at the head of the table, his smile strained and confidence cracking. Beside him, Celeste Dubois looked nervous, though her eyes betrayed the glint of calculation.

Arthur Sterling, an old board member loyal to the Vance family, sat on one side, his sharp eyes lighting up with relief the moment Ella strode in.

She didn't look at anyone. She simply walked to the head of the table—Damian's seat—and sat down.

Damian stiffened. "Ella? You're… awake?" he forced a smile. "Shouldn't you be resting a few more days?"

Ella gave him a look so cold it could've frozen fire. "I've rested enough," she said evenly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it sliced through the room like a scalpel. "This meeting is long overdue."

Her gaze swept across the boardroom like a hawk surveying prey. Most of those present had been appointed by Damian. And they all knew why they were nervous.

"You all know why I'm here," she said flatly. Her eyes locked onto Damian and Celeste. Celeste's face turned ghost-pale.

"Damian Blackwood, effective immediately, you are no longer CEO of Vance Industries. Every person you brought in—" her gaze shifted toward the executives on his side of the table, "—unless you've proven outstanding value and true loyalty to this company, you're out."

The room exploded into chaos. Executives stood up in protest, shock and panic flashing across their faces. Damian shot to his feet.

"You can't do this, Ella!" he barked. "Your father—he appointed me before he—"

"Shut up." Ella didn't raise her voice, but her tone was steel. Everyone froze.

"I'm not interested in your lies. If my father were alive to see what you've done, he'd throw you out himself. Now, get out. You and your people. HR and Legal will handle your exit. If anyone resists, you'll regret it."

She didn't shout. She didn't threaten. But the finality in her voice made the hair on Damian's neck stand up. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

She turned to the remaining board members. "The rest of you? Just because I haven't fired you—yet—doesn't mean you're safe. But if you know where your loyalties lie and you do your jobs, Vance Industries will treat you fairly."

She stood. "Vance Industries belongs to the Vance family. That will never change. From now on, I'll be running this company myself. Meeting adjourned."

Just like that, in twenty minutes, she crushed Damian's faction and reestablished herself at the top.

When the others had cleared out, only Arthur Sterling remained. The old man looked at Ella with moist eyes.

"Zhiwei… Ella," he corrected himself gently. "You used to be soft and gentle. I almost don't recognize you now."

Ella smiled faintly. There was a quiet melancholy in her eyes. She wasn't the same person anymore. She was a soul from another life, in another body. A woman who had died in another world, only to return here with unfinished business.

"People change, Uncle Arthur," she said softly. "But I needed to. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to protect what my father left behind."

Arthur nodded, deeply moved. "The Vance blood runs true, after all."

He hesitated. "Forgive me for prying, but… what's really going on between you and Damian? He won't go down quietly, will he?"

Ella laughed coldly. "Between me and Damian? Nothing. He's a petty thief who mistook himself for a king. And if he's smart, he'll stay gone."

There was fire in her eyes. If Damian tried anything again, she'd make him wish he'd never touched a dime of Vance Industries.

Arthur didn't doubt it. And for the first time in months, he felt something like hope. Vance Industries is in good hands again.

But Ella had more to do.

Taking back the company was just the beginning.

She left headquarters and headed to a secured facility in the city: The Gilded Vault, a high-security depository used by the elite to store priceless assets. Ella knew the place well—from her previous life.

She stepped inside. Security staff greeted her instantly.

"Miss Vance, welcome. How may we assist you?"

"I need access to my private vault."

"Yes, ma'am. Biometric and passcode verification, please."

As she was led down the polished hallway, one guard stopped.

"This one doesn't require biometrics, just the passcode," he explained.

Ella nodded. She remembered. In her previous life, she'd arranged for this vault to be accessible without fingerprint ID—just in case she died unexpectedly. She'd given the passcode to two trusted allies. The plan was for them to retrieve her assets if she never came back.

But she did come back—reborn. And now, her fortune was hers to reclaim.

She entered the code. The guard smiled politely. "Please wait a moment, ma'am. We'll bring the box to you shortly."

She sat in the lounge, sipping tea. This wealth wasn't inherited from the Vance family. It was hers—earned from a lifetime of dealings in a shadowy, high-stakes world. It gave her a different kind of security.

Then it happened.

A flicker of emerald green caught her eye—reflected off a glass pane. It was the kind of reflex only someone who had spent their life around gems would have. In her past life, she'd survived in Veridia, a world where rare stones were as valuable as blood.

Her eyes followed the glow.

A man was approaching, surrounded by bodyguards. But Ella's gaze locked not on his face, but on his hand.

He wore a platinum ring, set with a top-grade Imperial Green Jadeite. The color—rich, pure, alive—was unmistakable. That stone alone was worth tens of millions. In both her lives, Ella had only seen one man wear a piece like that.

Her eyes slowly rose to his face.

Silas Croft.

Head of the Croft family. A giant in the business world. Powerful, reclusive, dangerous.

The memories came rushing in. In this life, he was a name whispered in boardrooms and cocktail parties. In her past life, he was more than that. Silas Croft had ties to Veridia's underground gem trade. And through one of her closest online contacts—an enigmatic user called Cherry Pup on the Gem Network—she'd heard tales of this man's precision, power, and obsession with beauty.

Now, she saw him up close.

Silas looked composed in his tailored suit, but there was a hollowness to his features. His skin pale, eyes tired. He didn't look well.

Ella turned away as her box arrived. She stood, thanked the staff, and prepared to leave.

Silas Croft. A name from both her past and her present. She didn't know if this meeting was fate—or a warning. But one thing was clear: he was not a man to underestimate.

As she took her box and turned to go, she caught sight of a young female attendant—heels clicking, perfume lingering—rushing forward to assist him.

Ella paused.

Silas hated strong scents. It was something Cherry Pup had mentioned once in passing. Whether this was coincidence or destiny, she wasn't sure.

But old instincts kicked in.

She turned to the nearest staffer and said casually, "One more thing. It's best not to send the woman with perfume to assist that gentleman. He's sensitive to strong smells."

The staffer blinked. "Understood."

Ella walked out without another word, her treasure in hand, and a storm brewing behind her calm expression.

The game had just begun. And now, the real players were entering the board.