The Scorned Husband's Vengeance

hogany desk was not an architectural blueprint, it was a will. His new will. He picked up the expensive fountain pen, its weight feeling final in his hand. He signed his name, Etha

sion. "Are you certain about this, Ethan? Leaving everything to

n and slid the document back across the desk. His despair was a quiet,

part in. He saw them immediately. Olivia White, his fiancée, was standing by the grand piano, her head tilted back in laughter. His half-brother, Liam Blackwood, had his hand resting on the small of her ba

chest. "I' ll always choose you, Ethan," she had whispered. "You' re the only one who sees me, the real me. You saved me." He had believed her. He had been desperate for love,

ded toward him, her smile perfectly crafted. She didn' t see the look that passed between the brothers, the familiar spark of contempt i

' s cologne on her, a scent he' d come to despise. His heart, which he thought coul

n key, cast in white gold. It was a key to the beach house he' d designed and built for them, a place he' d imagined

"You can give it to me tomorrow, after the wedding. We have all the time in the world." She patted his chest, a gesture that was meant to be affectionate but felt like a dismissal. She turned and wa