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The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 644    |    Released on: 20/01/2026

her mind racing, processing the data. Harrison Juarez. Brittain's shadow. T

nd incredulous. She stepped back, putting distance between

, spreading his legs comfortably, claiming the space. "He took

sgusting,"

t, you get a momentary release and a potential blackmail risk. You sleep with me... and

awless. It was Machiavellian.

ad been cheating on her since the honeymoon. He treated her like a fixture, a lamp to

z was a nuclear option. It w

s per

The hesitation was gon

an eyebrow, am

y. "No feelings. No clinging. When we walk out of

od up. "I make it a rule not to

pulled out a sleek, black titanium card. Brittain's Centurion card

. Harrison caught it again

g to ruin my marriage, I'm going to do it on his

back at her. A slow, genuine grin spread across his face. It cha

surprises, Mrs.

ison Juarez. I need the Presidential Suite. Immediately. Charge

nded a hand toward

alloused, steady. Taking it meant cro

im, her head high, the heels of her shoes c

Juarez,"

t a low laugh a

side, not touching, but the heat between them was palpable. Angelina watched their reflecti

y pressing down on her, making her kne

se foyer stretched out before them, marble

osening his tie with one hand. The amusement was gone

run, Angelina,

of the elevator. "Shu

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The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
“I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess. Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score. But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn't the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez-my husband's most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone. My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he'd just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up. The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did. "If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me." I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband's black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain's dime with the one man he feared most.”