Revenge Wedding

just returned to their apartment, she had had this strange feeling of being out of sync, an inexplicable impression that something was wrong. She had put it down to the stress of work,

hat she knew well: that of a deep complicity, a shared, intimate laugh. He seemed to have forgotten everything else in the world, everything they had built together. But what had immediately captured her attention was not simply the scene, but the presen

and his hands were resting on Victor's knees. There was nothing suspicious about that in itself, except that Damien's fingers had lingered a little to

ve, unable to scream, unable to understand what had just happened. She hadn't needed words to understand. She knew. It was as if a veil had been torn away, letting her discover a world she would never have tho

re. She had already seen everything, understood everything. Her eyes had filled with tears, but she had forced herself to stay cal

re heavy. She was paralyzed by pain, by disappointment, by humiliation. "How could you..." Zoe's voice had trembled, but she had done her best to make her words carry. She had looked at him, Vict

, for the first time, he didn't know what to do. As if, in that suspended moment, he had no idea what he could say to repair what he

rase the betrayal. "It's not what you think." But the word

st done? How could he have explained this scene that she had seen with her own eyes, these gestures, this complicity that left no

ou want me to believe you, don't you? That this is all just a mistake, a misunderstanding?" She shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "No. I can't. I..." Her words trailed off in a ragged breath. It was too much fo

But she couldn't. The pain was too intense, too dull. The sight of Victor, his frozen face, his tasteless apologies, all of it jostled in her mind, like a whirlwind of chaos. She hadn't known how to react. She hadn't known how to accep

ave birth to a dark idea in her mind: she had to get revenge. She had to make him suffer, make him feel at least a fragment of what she felt. She had given

, the wounded part, also knew she had no other choice. And revenge w