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The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 599    |    Released on: 20/01/2026

start, her heart instantly hammering. She sat up

steam billowing out. She c

hone. Five texts.

e ar

ay at your

wer

get dinne

y, phone died. Stayed at the spa late an

came so e

ps. Water droplets clung to the dark hair on his chest. He looked refreshed,

watch lay. "I have a board meeting at nine. You sho

was gone. He was back to bei

nightstand, began to buzz.

off his hair and couldn't reach

e ex-girlfriend who still thought she had a claim

ne. She didn't hit de

ing the ambient noise of the hotel room-the rustle o

was tinny and shrill.

g the phone in her han

She looked up at him with wide, inno

he phone, and checked the call log. He looked at h

stood up and began to dress,

she turned to him. "What's

buttoning his s

he said. "And

d. "I told you,

r voice crisp. She pulled out her phone, ready to open her

w growl. "You're planning to leave him, and you're going to create a direct, time-stamped wire transfer from your account to his biggest rival

is words sinking in. He was right.

ne softening slightly. "I want the look on Brittain's face when h

Juarez," she said, her voice tight. S

the door withou

just exited. He ran a hand through

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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.”