The Tale of a Heiress Revenge

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Romance Crime Revenge Pregnancy Enemies to Lovers Pregnancy Personal Growth

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The giant gate of the beautiful mansion opens widely as Ragnar Evander, who is burdened by the unwanted marriage drives into the compound.

The surroundings of his mansion were beautiful, and adorning. He came out of the car and was angry, he has always been angry ever since married. He detested the very idea of being tied to a woman he never chose, Lyra, his wife, they were mated by the moon goddess, something that he didn't choose.

His footsteps echo a walk through the corridor, he enters the living room, with his stern face, that is how he felt whenever he came back to his house since the day he was forced into this union.

Darius Evander, his father, believed that Lyra's gentle nature would be the remedy for Ragnar's tough and rough way of living, but he couldn't love Lyra, he felt nothing but love towards her.

He proceeded to the bedroom, as he opened the bedroom he fell upon Lyra who was on the bed.

She had a little hope in her eyes and she welcomed him home just to make him happy even though he wasn't always happy with her, she said on the edge of the bed fidgeting her fingers nervously. This was how she felt whenever she was around Ragnar.

“You are back. I was worried because it was late. Welcome back,” she greeted sincerely, her eyes seeking approval and affection.

She sat up from the bed and walked to where Ragnar was standing I wanted to help him take off his briefcase, However, Ragnar responded to her harshly as he pushed her aside, causing her to stumble and fall onto the bed. She sat up with sadness in her eyes.

“Lyra, listen to me carefully. I will never love you, no matter what you do,” Ragnar declared, his words piercing through her heart. Tears streamed down Lyra's face as the harsh words of Ragnar pierced her heart.

“Ragner…” she whispered, her voice trembling. She was hurt by Ragnar's words.

“You know what, Lyra? I'm tired of this loveless marriage. I don't love you,” Ragnar spat out with frustration, the anger in his voice resonating in the room.

“Let's divorce,” he added, Lyra stared at him shockingly, she was not ready for a divorce, it was the moon goddess that paired them together, how could he ask for a divorce? She thought.

“No, I disagree. I won't accept this. Please, this is what your father wants,” Lyra pleaded, sniffing back the tears streaming down her face. Ragnar's anger lit up when Lyra mentioned his father.

“My father? No, this is not what my father wants. This is what you want. You manipulated my father into making us marry, and now you want to manipulate me,” he accused, with bitterness in his voice.

“I've never done anything wrong to you, Ragnar,” Lyra said, her defences crumbling against the accusations.

“I'll have to punish you. Strip,” Ragnar commanded, harshly as he began removing his clothes.

Lyra's eyes widened in fear, her heart pounding, she had been feeling weak and dizzy for some days now and wasn't strong enough for sex.

“No, please. I'm weak, and I don't think I can have sex tonight,” she said truthfully, she was indeed weak, but that alone provoked Ragnar's anger the more hearing her say so.

“What?! You can't even fulfil your duty as a wife?” he snapped, pushing her down onto the bed.

“No, please. I'm weak, and you are always rough when having sex with me, please,” she begged, her pleas falling on deaf ears.

“You have to do your duty as a wife,” Ragnar said kissing her aggressively on her neck, she knew that she could not struggle even if she wanted to struggle she didn't have the strength to.

She just allowed him to do whatever he wanted as a thrust in on her aggressively.

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