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".Oh yes, Reel! Harder-please, fuck me harder!"
The woman's throaty moans filled the screen, her hips arching greedily against the man driving into her-Ivory's husband. Gadreel. His name dripped from the other woman's lips like honey, shameless and triumphant.
Ivory's fingers trembled around her phone. The video played on, the sounds of slick, frantic skin and breathless whimpers clawing at her composure. Five years of marriage. Five years of fighting for him-nursing him back from the edge of death, sacrificing every part of herself-and this was how he repaid her. On their anniversary. On her birthday.
A new notification flashed, the text a venomous taunt:
[Do you like your birthday gift, dear sis?]
Evangeline. Ivory didn't need to see her stepsister's face to imagine the smirk twisting her lips.
[Just a snap of my fingers, and he comes running back. Did you really think your pathetic devotion meant anything? To him, you've always been just a glorified nurse.]
A nurse. A hollow laugh rose in Ivory's throat. Five years of her life, reduced to that? She hadn't expected love-their marriage had been a transaction, after all. But respect? Basic human decency? Apparently, even that was too much to ask.
And Evangeline wasn't finished.
[He'll divorce you soon. And when he does, I'll be the one carrying his heir. We could've had this happiness years ago if not for you.]
Ivory's vision blurred with fury. She was the villain here? After everything?
Five years ago, Evangeline had been the one who was supposed to marry Gadreel. Their love story was sweet-until the night of their engagement party, when a tragic accident left Gadreel in a coma. His condition was so severe that even the doctors held little hope for his recovery. Terrified, Evangeline fled the country overnight.
The Ødegaards couldn't forgive such a betrayal. To keep the family, the father begged Ivory to marry Gadreel in Evangeline's place.
No grand wedding, no declarations of love. Ivory became Gadreel's wife, spending years tirelessly nursing him back to health and enduring his ice-cold resentment. For five years, she had endured all this for the family.
And now, Evangeline had the audacity to blame Ivory for stealing him away? How absurd.
Fury burned through Ivory as she dialed the number, ready to tear into the hypocritical witch-but all she got was a busy signal. Coward. She considered calling Gadreel instead, certain the two were together, only to realize with a bitter laugh that she didn't even have his number.
They had once been inseparable friends as children, but he had already forgotten it. After long years of exile, she returned home only to find Gadreel's heart was completely captured by her stepsister.
Even after recovering, learning she was the one who nursed him for five years, he never spoke to her gently.
"Don't expect love from me. You know who has my heart. You'll only ever be my wife on paper."
How foolish she'd been, thinking this marriage could win her father's pride-or Gadreel's affection.
Being ignored became their routine. She was nothing but a placeholder, a tool to be used when convenient.
But she refused to be anyone's second choice anymore.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she shut off the video. Her gaze fell to the birthday cake she'd prepared-vanilla with buttercream roses, untouched. She struck a match, the flame trembling in her grip as she lit the candles.
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