Login to ManoBook
icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
Revenge Wedding
5.0
Comment(s)
50
View
49
Chapters

Zoe's dreams of marriage are shattered when she catches her fiance in a compromising situation with his best friend. Devastated, she seeks to recover what she has lost. That's when an enigmatic man, a warm billionaire named Maxime Delacroix, offers her an unexpected solution: a loveless marriage, a contractual alliance with the aim of destroying his ex's career. Although reluctant, Zoe accepts, ready to do anything to get revenge. But as their relationship grows, Zoe realizes that the stakes are more complex than she imagined. Between revenge and a budding passion for this distant man, she finds herself torn between her desire for justice and her budding feelings. How far will she be willing to go to get revenge without losing everything in the process?

Chapter 1 Chapitre 1

Zoe hadn't planned on it being that night. She hadn't planned on how a simple, quiet evening, where everything seemed to be going normally, would turn everything upside down. As she had just returned to their apartment, she had had this strange feeling of being out of sync, an inexplicable impression that something was wrong. She had put it down to the stress of work, to the fact that she hadn't slept enough in the last few days. But now, thinking back to the intuition that had struck her, she wondered how she hadn't been able to perceive it sooner.

She had opened the living room door a crack, her shoes barely put in the entryway, her coat still hanging on the door. It was Victor's silhouette that she had seen, sitting on the sofa, laughing out loud. But it was not a banal laugh, it was that laugh that she knew well: that of a deep complicity, a shared, intimate laugh. He seemed to have forgotten everything else in the world, everything they had built together. But what had immediately captured her attention was not simply the scene, but the presence of Damien, Victor's best friend. This detail, this little something that should never have been there. Damien was not supposed to be there. Zoe knew that it was not normal, but she had not wanted it, she had not wanted to see what she was going to see.

She had approached, unsure of what she would find. But the words had struck like a guillotine. Damien had tilted his head back, bursting into laughter, and his hands were resting on Victor's knees. There was nothing suspicious about that in itself, except that Damien's fingers had lingered a little too close to Victor's thighs, and when he had slid a glance towards his friend's face, he had sketched a smile that had made Zoe shiver from head to toe.

She had seen the moment they had realized she was there. Victor's gaze had frozen, his smile had faded as suddenly as his laughter had. A heavy silence had filled the room. Zoe had frozen in turn, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to understand what had just happened. She hadn't needed words to understand. She knew. It was as if a veil had been torn away, letting her discover a world she would never have thought possible. She had seen their complicity, and she had seen something even more devastating: the way Victor had looked away. As if, in that moment, he had sought to hide a truth that he knew was unacceptable.

Damien had then said, in a voice too calm, too deliberate: "Zoe, wait, it's not what you think." But she didn't want to hear anymore. She had already seen everything, understood everything. Her eyes had filled with tears, but she had forced herself to stay calm, not to burst into tears. Not yet. She didn't want to do them this favor, didn't want to give them the right to see her collapse.

"So it's true..." she had whispered, more to herself than to them. She had taken a step back, then two, until her feet hit the corner of the furniture. She had wanted to run away, but her legs were heavy. She was paralyzed by pain, by disappointment, by humiliation. "How could you..." Zoe's voice had trembled, but she had done her best to make her words carry. She had looked at him, Victor, this man she loved and with whom she had shared so many plans, so many dreams. And this same man was now there, in their living room, laughing with his best friend, as if none of that mattered.

Victor had stood up, moving toward her, but she had pushed him away with a sharp gesture. "Don't come to me." He had hesitated, as if, for the first time, he didn't know what to do. As if, in that suspended moment, he had no idea what he could say to repair what he had destroyed. Zoe didn't have the courage to look him in the eye. She knew she would never be able to look at him the same way again.

"Zoe, I..." He said her name as if it would be enough to erase the betrayal. "It's not what you think." But the words were empty, meaningless, void of any hope of redemption.

She hadn't had the courage to give him a chance to explain. She didn't want to. What could he have said to justify what he had just done? How could he have explained this scene that she had seen with her own eyes, these gestures, this complicity that left no room for doubt? She felt betrayed in her soul, in her body, as if a part of herself was already dead, as if she no longer existed.

"That's it... That's all you have to say?" Zoe spoke with an icy calm that barely masked the tremor in her voice. She didn't want to scream, she didn't want to give him that privilege. She took a deep breath before continuing. "You want me to believe you, don't you? That this is all just a mistake, a misunderstanding?" She shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "No. I can't. I..." Her words trailed off in a ragged breath. It was too much for her. Too much. She had left the room, her heart in tatters, like an abandoned wreck. She hadn't taken her things. She hadn't taken her souvenirs. She had simply left the apartment, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do.

She had wandered the streets, lost, as if the ground had given way beneath her feet. The people who passed by her didn't even look at her. She had found herself at the edge of the canal, her hands shaking, trying to contain her grief. But she couldn't. The pain was too intense, too dull. The sight of Victor, his frozen face, his tasteless apologies, all of it jostled in her mind, like a whirlwind of chaos. She hadn't known how to react. She hadn't known how to accept the unacceptable. She had let herself be overwhelmed by an ocean of anger, sadness and betrayal. She didn't want to go back to her parents, to see them staring at her with pity. She didn't want a look that would have seen her failure.

She realized she had nothing left. Nothing, except this deep need, this rage that boiled inside her. A rage that she didn't quite understand yet, but that gave birth to a dark idea in her mind: she had to get revenge. She had to make him suffer, make him feel at least a fragment of what she felt. She had given it to him. She had loved him with all her heart, but he had betrayed her in a way that nothing could repair. There was no going back, no forgiveness possible.

Zoe knew she was embarking on a path of no return, but a part of her, the wounded part, also knew she had no other choice. And revenge would be her only ally, even if she knew it would change her forever.

Continue Reading

Other books by Max's Story

More

You'll also like

My Neighbor's Wife

My Neighbor's Wife

E_STEVANIA
5.0

"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book