---- Chapter 17 The man who stepped off the private jet in Provence was a shadow of the powerful mogul who had once commanded boardrooms with a single glance. Jackson Parks was thin, his face haggard, his eyes haunted by a grief so profound it seemed to have carved new lines into his skin. He had spent the week in the hospital recovering, his body flushing out the last of Candida' s poisons, his mind grappling with the full, devastating scope of his actions. As the fog of the drugs lifted, his memories of Elena, the real memories, came flooding back. Her laughter. The warmth of her hand in his. The unconditional love in her eyes. And with those memories came the crushing, unbearable weight of what he had done to her. Every cruel word, every act of neglect, every moment of abuse now played in his mind with horrifying clarity. The guilt was a living thing, a vulture tearing at his soul. He had found out the name of the man who had helped her. Hamilton Nixon. A tech billionaire, an old friend of Elena' s. The name meant nothing to him, just another obstacle to be overcome. He found her in a small, sun-drenched town, surrounded by fields of lavender. Her gallery was on a quiet cobblestone ---- street. He stood outside for a long time, his heart a painful, throbbing drum in his chest, just looking at her name on the sign. Elena Medina. She had taken back her name. She had reclaimed her life. He pushed the door open. The gallery was bright and airy, filled with vibrant, powerful paintings. And there she was. She was standing in the center of the room, talking to a customer. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair was longer, her face was framed by laugh lines he had never seen before, and her eyes... her eyes were clear and calm, free of the fear and pain he had put there. She looked happy. The sight of her, so whole and at peace, was a fresh stab of agony. She turned, and her eyes met his. For a fraction of a second, he saw a flicker of the old pain, the memory of the nightmare he had put her through. Then it was gone, replaced by a cool, polite indifference. It was the look you give a stranger. "Can | help you?" she asked, her voice calm and steady. His own voice came out as a choked, broken whisper. "Elena." The customer, sensing the tension, quickly made his excuses and left. They were alone. "| came for you," he said, taking a step closer. "I came to ---- bring you home." She laughed, a short, sharp sound with no humor in it. "Home? This is my home, Jackson. My life is here." "| know what she did," he said, his voice cracking. "The poison, the lies. It wasn' t me, Elena. | was drugged. Manipulated. | would never have hurt you." He reached for her, his hands trembling. "| love you. | have always loved you." She took a step back, out of his reach. "The drugs didn' t make you secretly divorce me, Jackson. They didn' t make you marry her. They didn' t make you choose her, over and over again, while | was bleeding and broken at your feet." 2 Her words were not angry. They were just true. And the truth was a judgment he could not escape. "| can make it up to you," he pleaded, his desperation making him weak. "I'll give you anything. My company, my fortune... it' s all yours. Just please... please come back to me." Aman stepped out from a back room. He was tall, handsome, with kind eyes that were fixed on Elena with a look of pure adoration. Hamilton Nixon. He came to Elena' s side, putting a protective arm around her waist. "I think you should leave," he said to Jackson, his voice quiet but firm. ---- Jackson stared at them, at the easy intimacy between them, the way she leaned into his touch. And he finally understood. He had not just lost her. She had been found by someone else. "You have no right," Jackson snarled, the old, arrogant mogul rearing his ugly head. "| have every right," Hamilton said, his voice still calm. "I'm the one who pulled her from the wreckage of the life you destroyed. I' m the one who helped her heal. I' m the one who loves her enough to let her be happy, not to own her." Elena looked at Jackson, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of pity in her eyes. "It's over, Jackson," she said softly. "You need to let me go." He stood there, in the middle of her bright, beautiful new life, and felt the last of his hope crumble to dust. He was a ghost, a relic of a past she had survived. And he was utterly, completely alone. 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.