---- Chapter 7 Erika POV: | saw him again two months later. The setting was so grotesquely perfect it felt like a scene from a movie | would have walked out of. A decadent charity gala, chandeliers dripping crystals like frozen tears, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and quiet money. | was on Bret' s arm, wearing a gown that cost more than my first car, playing the part of the serene, supportive fiancée. | was making small talk with a tech billionaire when | saw him. He was standing alone near the bar, looking lost and out of place. He was thinner, the confident swagger he used to carry himself with completely gone. His suit, though still expensive, looked too big for him, as if he' d been hollowed out from the inside. His eyes were scanning the room with a desperate, hunted look, and then they found me. They locked onto me, and the entire noisy, glittering room seemed to fall away. For a moment, | saw a flicker of the boy | used to love-the uncertainty, the vulnerability. He seemed surprised by my composure, by the easy smile on my face. Bret noticed my stillness. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur in my ear. "Is that him?" he asked. "Do you want to leave?" ---- | shook my head. "No. It's fine." Running was what | had done in Austin. | wasn' t that girl anymore. | excused myself, took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and walked toward him. My steps were even and unhurried. | was in control. "Coleton," | said, my voice cool and polite. "I'm surprised to see you here." He flinched as if I' d struck him. His throat worked, but no sound came out. "Erika," he finally rasped, his voice raw. "You look... incredible." "Thank you," | said, taking a small sip of my champagne. "You should call me Ms. Larson now." The color drained from his face, leaving it a sickly, pale grey. "Larson? Are you... you' re with him? Bret Harrell?" His voice cracked on the name, a mixture of disbelief and agony. "My personal life really isn' t any of your concern anymore, Mr. Ruiz," | said, my tone gentle but firm. "What happened between us is in the past. | truly wish you all the best." | gave him a small, final nod, and turned to walk away. | could feel his gaze burning into my back, a physical weight of regret and despair. But | didn' t look back. | couldn' t. ---- | made it halfway through the evening before the suffocating politeness of the event became too much. | slipped out onto a terrace, the cool night air a welcome relief against my skin. He followed me. "Erika, please." He smelled of whiskey and desperation. He reached for my arm, and | instinctively pulled away. "Don't," | said, my voice sharp. "| was wrong," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "| know that. | was an idiot, a bastard, everything you think | am. But please, just give me one more chance. Let me fix this." | looked at him, really looked at him, and | felt nothing but a profound, weary sadness. "It's too late, Coleton." "It's not!" he insisted, his voice rising. "I know | messed up. | let the success, the new life... | let it go to my head. But | swear to you, Erika, on my life, there was never anything between me and Kyra. | love you." The words, which | had once longed to hear, now sounded hollow and meaningless. | laughed, a soft, bitter sound. "You love me?" The questions | had swallowed for months came pouring out, quiet and deadly. "Did you love me when you were racing up a mountain with her, while | was terrified on the back of your bike, screaming ---- for you to slow down? Did you love me when you chose to defend her mistake by blaming me, by humiliating me in front of our colleagues? Did you love me when you told me to leave, to get out of your life, because | was an inconvenience to your fun?" He stared at me, speechless, his face a mask of agony. "Your love, Coleton," | said, my voice barely a whisper, "is too shallow. It couldn' t survive a little distance, a little temptation. It' s not strong enough. And | deserve more than that." "No," he choked out. "It wasn' t about that. It wasn' t because | found out who you are. | swear." "Does it matter?" | asked, the question genuine. "The outcome is the same. We' re over. It' s done." | turned to go back inside, back to Bret, back to my new life. "Please," he called after me, his voice a raw, desperate cry. "In court, they give you a chance to appeal. Just... give me one chance to appeal." | stopped, my back still to him. | closed my eyes, the memory of his shocked face in that hallway forever burned into my mind. "| gave you two years of chances, Coleton," | said, my voice soft but final. "And you wasted every single one." Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. This captivating novel delves into themes of secrets, reincarnation, revenge, murder, and drama. Adela's journey from deception to betrayal is filled with intrigue and suspense as she navigates through a world where power dynamics and family loyalties collide. What sets this story apart is its strong female lead who defies expectations and challenges societal norms in a quest for justice and redemption. Experience the riveting tale of Adela Taylor online at CrushReel and witness the transformation of a princess into a formidable female general.