Her Vengeance is a Silent Waltz

Her Vengeance is a Silent Waltz

Nina Brooks

5.0
Comment(s)
4K
View
30
Chapters

My sister was dying, and my husband, Alex, refused to let me see her. "Diamond's comfort is my priority," he said over the phone, his voice cold. "She's not comfortable with you there." Diamond. The woman who supposedly took a bullet for him. A debt he was repaying with my life. His repayment plan had already cost me my future. He stood by impassively as I was forced to sign sterilization papers, ensuring Diamond, who claimed the bullet had left her barren, would never have to see him have a child with another woman. They smeared my name in the press, painting me as an unstable addict whose "violent outburst" led to my sister's hospitalization. At the funeral they planned without me, they announced their plan to send me to a "facility" for my own good. The night before their wedding, he came home drunk. He grabbed me, his hands roaming my body in a grotesque parody of intimacy, and whispered her name. "Diamond." Something inside me finally shattered. I shoved him off me, screaming my own name. The next morning, Diamond stood on our doorstep, a triumphant smile on her face, calling me a barren, washed-up musician who couldn't even keep her own sister alive. Looking at them, the monster and his master, I felt nothing but a cold, clear resolve. I turned and walked away from the wreckage of my life. It was time to erase Erica Wade and build someone new. Someone who would burn their world to the ground.

Chapter 1 No.1

My sister was dying, and my husband, Alex, refused to let me see her.

"Diamond's comfort is my priority," he said over the phone, his voice cold. "She's not comfortable with you there."

Diamond. The woman who supposedly took a bullet for him. A debt he was repaying with my life.

His repayment plan had already cost me my future. He stood by impassively as I was forced to sign sterilization papers, ensuring Diamond, who claimed the bullet had left her barren, would never have to see him have a child with another woman.

They smeared my name in the press, painting me as an unstable addict whose "violent outburst" led to my sister's hospitalization. At the funeral they planned without me, they announced their plan to send me to a "facility" for my own good.

The night before their wedding, he came home drunk. He grabbed me, his hands roaming my body in a grotesque parody of intimacy, and whispered her name. "Diamond."

Something inside me finally shattered. I shoved him off me, screaming my own name. The next morning, Diamond stood on our doorstep, a triumphant smile on her face, calling me a barren, washed-up musician who couldn't even keep her own sister alive.

Looking at them, the monster and his master, I felt nothing but a cold, clear resolve. I turned and walked away from the wreckage of my life. It was time to erase Erica Wade and build someone new. Someone who would burn their world to the ground.

Chapter 1

The smell of antiseptic was the first thing Erica noticed. It clung to her clothes, her hair, her skin. It was the smell of the last three weeks.

The smell of failure.

Her hand rested on the cool metal of the hospital payphone receiver. She didn't need to look at the number. She had dialed it a hundred times.

The line connected on the second ring.

"Wade." Alex's voice was flat. Devoid of warmth. The voice he used for work.

"Alex, it's me."

A pause. A sigh on the other end. "What is it, Erica? I'm busy."

"The doctors said... they said Jayda doesn't have much time. I need to see her. Please." Her own voice sounded foreign. Thin and brittle.

"We've been over this," he said. His tone was sharp now, impatient. "You can't."

"She's my sister. She's asking for me." Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She refused to let them fall. Crying didn't work anymore.

"And Diamond is my priority," he shot back. "She's not comfortable with you being there. Not after the stress you've caused."

The name hung in the air between them. Diamond.

Erica remembered a time, years ago, when Alex had held her hands. His were warm and strong. "I'll always protect you," he had said, his eyes sincere. "You and your music. That's my world."

That world was gone. Shattered.

"The stress I've caused?" she whispered into the phone. "Her men put my sister in this bed. Over a spilled drink."

"It was an accident. They were protecting her from a perceived threat," he recited, the words sounding rehearsed. "Diamond was shaken. You know how sensitive she is."

"And Jayda? Is she not sensitive? She's dying, Alex."

"Diamond's well-being is my responsibility. She saved my life. That is a debt I will spend my life repaying."

The lie was so practiced, so smooth, it slid out of him like a prayer. The faked assassination attempt. The bullet Diamond took for him, a wound she orchestrated herself. A story he believed with the conviction of a zealot. A story that had become the foundation for Erica's prison.

"So my sister's life is part of your repayment plan?"

"Don't be dramatic, Erica." The coldness in his voice was absolute. "You know the rules. You stay away. You don't make waves. Think about the alternative."

She knew the alternative. He didn't have to say it. He had shown her.

The memory rose, unbidden. A sterile clinic. The crisp white of the papers he'd forced her to sign. His face impassive as he stood by. Voluntary Sterilization. A procedure to ensure Diamond, who claimed the bullet had left her barren, would never have to suffer the indignity of seeing Alex have a child with another woman.

His "repayment" had demanded Erica's future. Her womanhood.

"Please," she said, one last time. The word was a shard of glass in her throat.

"It's done, Erica," he said. "Stop calling this number."

The line went dead.

She held the receiver for a long moment, the dial tone a flat, indifferent hum. It matched the silence inside her.

Slowly, she placed it back on the hook. Her fingers didn't tremble. They were numb. Everything was numb.

She walked out of the hospital, into the gray afternoon. The city air felt heavy, suffocating.

She had lost her music when he smashed her violin. She had lost her future when he signed away her fertility. Now, she was losing her sister.

She had begged. She had pleaded. She had tried to be the person he wanted, the quiet, compliant wife. It was all useless.

A new feeling began to crystalize in the void inside her. It was cold and hard and clear. Not hope. The opposite of hope.

It was resolve.

She walked to a small, discreet office building two blocks from the hospital. An appointment she had made under a different name.

A lawyer. An old family contact she had not spoken to in years.

She sat across from him, her back straight.

"I need to disappear," she said, her voice steady for the first time in months. "Completely. And I need to do it without my husband knowing."

She was done making waves. She was going to become the tide.

Continue Reading

Other books by Nina Brooks

More
The Unwanted Luna: Secret Heiress Of The White Wolf

The Unwanted Luna: Secret Heiress Of The White Wolf

Werewolf

5.0

I walked into my kitchen to find my husband's assistant wearing nothing but his white dress shirt. Jami sat on the granite counter, sipping coffee from my favorite mug. My husband, Dustin, stood next to her, smiling in a way he hadn't smiled at me in years. When they saw me, there was no shame. Instead, Jami sent a photo to my phone while sitting ten feet away. It was an ultrasound. "The Alpha's bloodline," the caption read. "Something you couldn't give him." I demanded an explanation, but Dustin only looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "She carries my heir, Eliana," he said, shielding her with his body. "You are barren and unstable. Go back to bed." When I refused, he used the Alpha Command to force me to my knees, humiliating me in my own home while his mistress watched with a triumphant smirk. He thought I was just a submissive wife. He thought I was trapped by the bond, acting as an endless battery for him to drain to keep his own volatile power in check. He conveniently forgot that before I was his Luna, I was the sole heiress to the David mining dynasty. He forgot that everything in this house—from the security system to the very foundation—was paid for with my money. I fought against the crushing weight of his command and forced myself to stand. "I reject you, Dustin Powell." As he collapsed in agony from the severed bond, I didn't help him. I picked up my phone and called my legal team. "I want it all gone," I ordered, staring at the horror on his face. "If I bought it, take it. Start with the mattress."

The House That Holds Our Hearts

The House That Holds Our Hearts

Horror

5.0

My podcast, "Crimson Echoes," was flatlining, desperate for a jolt of something real, something raw. Then the email landed: "The Blackwood Experience" – an exclusive, five-person weekend trapped in the notoriously haunted Blackwood Manor. I signed up instantly, picturing viral content, the ultimate professional coup. But the confirmation email already hinted at the unease: "Five participants. No more, no less. The gate will open once, and close once." I arrived at dusk, only to find four others – a Goth, a Tech CEO, a Gamer, and an Influencer – already there. Then, a sixth person, a clueless student named Mark, pedaled up on a beat-up bike, clueless about the exclusive invitation. Just as the chilling realization of an extra person sank in, the massive iron gate groaned shut behind us, locking with a deafening clang. We were trapped, not five, but six, and one of us was definitely not supposed to be here. Panic set in, but then came the voice, childish and clear, echoing throughout the now-lit up manor: "Welcome, playmates… Let's play a game. A game of hide-and-seek." My fellow captives scattered, desperate to hide, but the voice promised "punishment" for those found. The terrifying truth dawned on me as one by one, they were claimed, their deaths horrifying reflections of their deepest flaws, from the Influencer literally dissolving to the paranoid Gamer twisting into an impossible shape. I survived, found but spared, only to realize the ghost, Lillian, wasn' t just in the house; she was the house, hiding in every reflective surface, watching. I found her, I "won," and the spell broke, the house reverting to a ruin as a faint whisper confirmed my chilling victory. But that whisper became a scream in my memory: "You've won before, you know. It's just your first time remembering." My entire reality fractured; I wasn't a survivor, but a ghost myself, trapped in a loop, reliving this nightmare again and again. My memory was wiped clean the moment I stepped outside, the horror dissolving like smoke. A week later, I found myself inexplicably drawn back, my duffel bag with recording equipment forgotten, a friendly smile on my face. "Hi," I said to the five strangers gathered at the gate. "My name is Sarah. I'm a podcaster. I came here for the experience." The cycle, inevitably, began anew.

Beyond His Reach: The Girl He Cast Aside

Beyond His Reach: The Girl He Cast Aside

Romance

5.0

My world revolved around Alex Thompson, the golden son of the family who took an orphan like me in. For years, my love for him was a secret hum, a quiet song played on the old piano, hoping he' d hear. But when I finally laid my heart bare, he looked at me with cold, distant pity. "Ava," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You' re like a sister to me. Always." Then he declared his engagement to Chloe Vanderbilt, parading her around like a bright, sharp shield; each public display a fresh wound. Chloe mocked me openly, called me a "hand-me-down," and casually destroyed my last precious memento, my mother' s music box. And while Alex stood idly by, she maliciously framed me for attacking her. Then, his fist flashed. A searing pain erupted on my cheek as he slapped me. "You ungrateful brat!" he seethed, his eyes blazing with fury. That brutal blow extinguished the last dying ember of hope, replacing it with a cold, clear certainty: I had to leave. My love, my loyalty, my very existence had been treated as mere charity, a burdensome obligation, then crushed with cruel contempt. How could the boy who once swore to protect me become the man who struck me for another' s lie? It was over. So, I left. I walked out of that house, leaving behind the shattered pieces of my heart and a symbolic repayment for their "charity." I agreed to an arranged marriage with Noah Evans, a quiet tech mogul. Now, as his fiancée, I'm heading to New York to chase my music dreams, a life where Alex Thompson is nothing but a distant, bitter memory. He thinks he won, that I'll eventually come crawling back. He' s about to find out just how wrong he is.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book