Her Painful Revenge

After my company went bankrupt, my fiancé turned on me and sent me straight to the bed of his rival.

"Older men know how to treat women well," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "You bring him down for me, and I'll return everything to you."

But when the day came that I really married that man, my fiancé's eyes turned red with jealousy, and he warned me not to let the act become real.

I scoffed. "Oh, but it's too late. He's 'good' in bed, you know—skilled, generous, and knows how to spoil a woman. I'd be a fool not to take it seriously."

Later, when his company crumbled to dust, I sent him straight into the arms of a wealthy cougar. "Older women know how to spoil men. Think of it as my parting gift."

...

"Pick one."

Bryan Wall's voice held an edge of amusement as he gestured toward the transparent lingerie spread across the bed. Those flimsy scraps weren't for us. They were for his sworn enemy.

"Kristy, don't look at me like that," Bryan said, his lips curling into a smirk. "Jacob may be a few years older, but older men know how to treat women well. You won't be suffering much."

Treat women well? I nearly laughed.

The man he spoke of, Jacob Wallace, was notorious. As head of the Wallace family, his temper was as unpredictable as a storm, and his methods of "entertaining" women were infamous. Bryan didn't care if I survived the encounter—only that I brought Jacob to his knees.

Bryan's fingers pinched my chin, rough and cold. "Jacob likes women like you. Please him, and the East Side project will be mine."

"Bryan, wasn't stealing my father's company enough for you? Now you're trading your own fiancée? Have you really sunk that low? No wonder your dad brought his illegitimate son back to take everything from you."

A flicker of anger passed through Bryan's eyes, and his grip tightened painfully, drawing a sharp breath from me.

"Don't test me, Kristy," he said darkly. "Do this for me, and you'll get your family's company back."

My lashes lowered as I let out a soft, cold laugh. "Fine."

He thought he was using me, but Bryan had no idea what he'd just set into motion.

Jacob entered the room as I knelt on the bed—an image of shame and submission that wasn't entirely unfamiliar. His gaze darkened, something dangerous swirling in its depths.

"Tonya, it's been a while," he said, voice low and taunting, his fingers hooking onto the silk ribbon of my slip. A single tug, and the illusion of modesty would disappear. "Ah, wait. I should call you by your new name, Kristy Jackson. The proud Jackson heiress."

Yes, Jacob and I knew each other well. Too well. He had raised me for ten years.