revenge of the billionaire's woman The He loved me for eight years, but in the end, he sent me personally. In pain, I saw him get closer to my sister and treat myself as a tool to heal his suffering. He even went so far as to ruin our common future! Hatred burns in me like a fire, and I am determined to take revenge. Two years later, I came back, transformed and stronger. I was no longer the woman he had left behind. The man who had treated me with indifference and cruelty was now as sweet as a lamb. He knelt before me, begging my forgiveness: "I'm sorry, I'm ready to atone for my mistakes for the rest of my days. »» While I was about to put my revenge plan in action, I slowly realized that he was totally ignored what had really happened in the past two years. Should my revenge plan continue?
Chapter 1 Chapitre 1
Chapter 1
Memories of the last eight years swirled through Melissa's head like a bittersweet melody. There had been so many moments of happiness, of laughter, and of promises exchanged in whispers in the darkness of their room. She remembered their beginnings, the intense passion that had consumed them, the infinite tenderness she felt every time he looked at her. To her, he had been everything. The man of her life, her pillar, the one to whom she had confided her dreams and her weaknesses. She believed their lives were indissolubly woven together.
But today, sitting alone in the silence of their large house, she couldn't escape this feeling of suffocation. A shadow had gradually darkened their intimate moments. The tender gestures had become more spaced out, the glances had become more distant. Mélissa had felt this void growing between them, without ever understanding its origin. She told herself that perhaps he was going through a difficult time, that business was taking up too much of his time, but that he would eventually come back to her, as he had always done.
That evening, however, something inexplicable had pushed her to come home early. Perhaps it was an intuition or a dull worry that never left her. Whatever it was, she had felt the irresistible need to see him, to find him, to talk to him, to rekindle this flame that she thought was flickering but still alive.
She entered their house, trying not to make any noise, a certain excitement in her heart at the idea of surprising him. She imagined him at his desk, perhaps immersed in a complicated file. She would have kissed his neck, hugged him and, as usual, he would have smiled when he saw her.
But it was a muffled whisper coming from the living room that made her slow down. She moved forward, almost in apnea, her soft steps on the ground. There, in the darkness of the living room, she saw him leaning towards a familiar figure. Melissa's heart sank violently in her chest. She stood frozen, unable to look away.
It was his sister, Anna. Mélissa knew her by heart, this delicate figure, this tender and smiling face. They had shared so many childhood memories, so many confidences. But that evening, the scene she saw looked nothing like a simple family exchange. There was something indefinable in their closeness, in the way her husband touched her face, in the looks they exchanged.
Breathless, Melissa felt her vision blur. She took a step back, desperately searching for a rational explanation. Maybe she was misinterpreting the situation, that it was just an innocent gesture of affection. But every fiber of his being screamed otherwise.
She heard her name whispered in a low voice. "Anna..." he had said, and the tone of his voice was both soft and intimate, a tone she hadn't heard in months. The scene was disappearing beneath her, like a collapsing floor. She wanted to look away, but she was stuck in place, unable to move, as if frozen in a reality she refused to see.
Finally, in a desperate gesture, she cleared her throat. Her husband turned around abruptly, a flash of panic crossing his face. Anna sat up as well, visibly uncomfortable, looking away to avoid her sister's gaze.
"Mélissa... I didn't hear you come in," he said in a tense voice.
She didn't answer. The words escaped him, as did his desire to seek an explanation. The image of this exchange between them, this tender gesture, this knowing look... everything was engraved in her, burning, impossible to erase. It was as if a wall had risen between her and the man she had loved.
"So it's true..." she finally whispered, her voice cracking. She tried to meet her sister's gaze, but she stubbornly stared at the ground, like a child caught at fault. "Anna, how could you...? »
Anna looked up slightly, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "Melissa, it's not what you think..." she stammered.
"Not what I think? » Melissa's voice, usually so gentle, was now full of bitterness. She turned to her husband, hoping to find an explanation in his eyes, proof that it was a misunderstanding. But his silence spoke volumes. She knew. She knew that everything they had shared, the promises, the dreams, were crumbling in this precise moment.
Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. She heard noises behind her, but she refused to turn around. His thoughts were in disarray, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She walked up the stairs, towards their bedroom, her head buzzing with pain and confusion.
Once alone, she finally let the tears fall, the sobs tearing through the silence of the room. How could he have done this to her? How could she have been so blind, so trusting? She thought back to all the times they had shared, wondering how much of it had all been a lie.
She spent the rest of the night reliving over and over what she had seen, trying to understand, to decipher the signs she had not noticed. Then, at dawn, a decision emerged from his grief. She couldn't stay here any longer. Not after that. She needed to rebuild herself, to find the strength to stand tall in the face of this betrayal. To stay would mean to sink into an abyss of pain and resentment.
In the early morning, she got up, fatigue making her movements heavier. She prepared a few things, gathered clothes, personal objects, without looking at the memories around her. All this no longer belonged to him. This life, this house, this love... everything now seemed to belong to someone else.
Before leaving the room, she stopped for a moment, contemplating one last time this place filled with memories. She felt a pang in her heart, but a breath of determination gave her strength. She had to leave, for her, to find herself.
As she was walking down the stairs with her bag, she came face to face with her husband. He stood there, looking tired, his features marked by a sleepless night. "Melissa... please listen to me," he began in a pleading voice.
She gave him an icy look. "Why, so you can lie to me again? » she replied, her voice trembling. "I saw what I needed to see. I'm not going to listen to your excuses. »
"It wasn't what you think...Anna and I...we..."
"Don't tell me I'm wrong," she interrupted, clenching her fists to hold back tears. "Don't tell me you didn't destroy everything we had. If you still had a little respect for me, you wouldn't even try to justify yourself. »
He seemed helpless, as if he was desperately searching for the words to hold her back, but he found none. Melissa felt a wave of pity mixed with contempt. The man she had loved so much now seemed a stranger to her.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the emotions that overwhelmed her, and turned towards the door. Without a last look, she left this house which had sheltered their memories. Her steps were heavy, but a feeling of liberation was beginning to arise within her. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, but she was determined to move forward, to find the woman she had lost in the shadow of this betrayed love.
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