The Jilted Bride's Billionaire Vengeance

The Jilted Bride's Billionaire Vengeance

Rafael

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I was engaged to Bradly Warner, a union meant to merge our family empires. In my past life, I poured my soul into his failing company, making him a titan of industry while he treated me with cold indifference. But a near-fatal accident gave me a second chance, flooding my mind with memories of his ultimate betrayal. I remembered how he and my cousin, Janell, flaunted their affair, publicly shaming me while I was trapped in a loveless marriage. They stole my work, took my fortune, and left me to die alone, a fool who had given everything for nothing. He never loved me. I was just a convenient tool, an obsession he could control and discard. So when I woke from my coma, back at the start of it all, I made a new vow. At the gala where he planned to humiliate me, I looked him in the eye and announced I was marrying someone else. His powerful, reclusive uncle, Garrison.

Chapter 1

I was engaged to Bradly Warner, a union meant to merge our family empires. In my past life, I poured my soul into his failing company, making him a titan of industry while he treated me with cold indifference.

But a near-fatal accident gave me a second chance, flooding my mind with memories of his ultimate betrayal.

I remembered how he and my cousin, Janell, flaunted their affair, publicly shaming me while I was trapped in a loveless marriage. They stole my work, took my fortune, and left me to die alone, a fool who had given everything for nothing.

He never loved me. I was just a convenient tool, an obsession he could control and discard.

So when I woke from my coma, back at the start of it all, I made a new vow. At the gala where he planned to humiliate me, I looked him in the eye and announced I was marrying someone else. His powerful, reclusive uncle, Garrison.

Chapter 1

Adaline POV:

Bradly Warner' s disdain hit me before his voice did, a physical blow even in the crowded ballroom. It was the same look I'd seen a thousand times in my "memories" now. That sneer, reserved only for me.

The Warner Corporation' s annual gala was in full swing. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, reflecting off polished marble floors. A symphony played something light and airy, but the oppressive weight of Bradly' s presence suffocated me.

"Bradly, look! It' s Adaline!" one of his cronies slurred, pointing a champagne flute in my direction.

Bradly' s head snapped up. His eyes, usually so charming, narrowed into slits. His perfectly sculpted eyebrows, a feature Janell often complimented, arched in a parody of surprise.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice carrying just enough to make a few heads turn. "If it isn' t my... fiancée."

The word was laced with ice.

His friends chuckled, nudging him, clearly amused by the spectacle. My stomach clenched. They thought this was a game.

"What are you doing here, Adaline?" he demanded, stepping closer. His scent-expensive cologne and too much entitlement-assaulted me. "Didn' t think you' d have the gall to show your face after that stunt."

Stunt? I blinked, genuinely taken aback. My "memories" had prepared me for a lot, but not this specific brand of public aggression, not yet.

He leaned in, his voice dropping but still sharp enough to cut through the din. "Announcing our engagement to the press without my permission? Really, Adaline? Have you no shame?"

My breath hitched. He was twisting the narrative, just as he always would. I hadn't announced anything. It was his family' s firm and my family' s firm, the merger contingent on our engagement, that had issued the joint statement. He knew that.

But in this life, where my near-fatal accident had somehow unlocked a future I hadn't lived, I saw him for what he was. A spoiled, arrogant man who saw me as an accessory.

I took a slow, deep breath, forcing my racing heart to calm. This was it. The moment I could change everything.

"The man I' m going to marry," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "is not you, Bradly."

A ripple of laughter erupted from his friends. They slapped him on the back, guffawing.

"Oh, Bradly, she' s hilarious!" one of them choked out between laughs. "Tell her to drop the desperate act."

Bradly' s face darkened, a flush spreading across his cheeks. Humiliation. He hated that feeling.

"Still playing games, Adaline?" he sneered, his eyes burning with fury. "You' ve always been obsessed with me, but this? This is a new low. Trying to get my attention by pretending you' re marrying someone else?"

He towered over me, his gaze contemptuous.

Then, a cold, predatory smile touched his lips. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "Look, Adaline. I' ll make you a deal. We can keep up appearances. You want the status? The name? Fine. But you' ll never get a marriage certificate from me. You' ll never be my wife. I' ll never acknowledge you as such."

My eyes widened in genuine surprise. In the future I now remembered, he had at least pretended to want me, had strung me along with false promises. This raw, brutal honesty was... different.

He hadn' t said these things before. Not out loud. Why now? Was it because I knew? Because my "memories" had changed something already? Or was it Janell?

Then, his gaze flickered over my shoulder, a sudden light-almost excitement-sparked in his eyes.

I turned to follow his line of sight.

There she was. Janell. My cousin.

Her eyes, usually so bright, were already welling up. Seeing me with Bradly, she swallowed, her lower lip trembling.

"Oh, Adaline," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but perfectly pitched to attract attention. "I... I heard the news. Congratulations. I truly wish you both happiness."

Before she could finish, her hand flew to her mouth, and she burst into theatrical sobs.

Bradly whirled around, his face a mask of rage. "Look what you did, Adaline!" he roared. "You made her cry! You disgust me!"

I watched, frozen, as Bradly rushed to Janell, pulling her into his arms. He cradled her head, stroking her hair. His eyes, just moments ago filled with contempt for me, now held a tender concern I had rarely, if ever, seen directed my way.

The symphony played on, a cruel, mocking melody.

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