His Revenge, My Unwanted Fortune

stay hidden for long. A week after my parents' funeral, I saw his face in a bus

ted by memories. I didn't bother with makeup. The face that stared back at me in

ve perfume and the sound of clinking champagne flutes. People in tailored suits and glitte

a glass of whiskey, a confident smirk on his face. Next to him stood a beautifu

ribs. A few people recognized me. They stopped talking, their eyes widening w

man with a slick, smug face, noticed me. He nudg

e said, his voice loud enough for everyone nearby to

t a hot flush of shame creep up my neck, but I kept my eyes fixed on Eth

y way, looking me up and dow

look half bad," he said, his eyes lingering on my body. "How muc

e me into turning and running. But I was alre

in front of Ethan. The circle o

d, my voice barely a whisper,

y. He didn't even look at me. He lo

o you, Chloe," he said,

g like ash in my mouth. "Just five

led the amber liquid in his glass, a

warmth, any of the passion I had mistaken for love. They were the eyes of a stranger.

.." I started, my voice trembli

laugh, but a low, chilling ch

empt. "You think I care? You reaped what you sowed, Chloe. You made your bed when yo

tart. It was a meticulously planned, cold-blooded revenge. The cheating husband, our "chanc

the words feeling heavy and forei

d been hiding. "No. This was about justice. You sold our love for money. I just returned the favor. I t

om spinning around me. The cruelt

forward. She was the picture of grace and com

gner clutch and pul

g. She wrote out a check with a flourish and held it out to me. "Here. For your t

n insult wrapped in a thin veneer of charity. My entire life, my reputation, my paren