Reborn in stardom

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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The rumors of my divorce from Ryland Payne had circulated for two years.

Over those two years, he had paraded around with the secretary whose husband had once saved his life, appearing at every event and trampling my dignity underfoot.

I had never uttered a single word of complaint.

That changed on the anniversary of our son's death, when he showed up at the memorial art exhibition I had organized for our boy, with that woman and her child in tow.

The necklace around that woman's neck featured the longevity locket I had personally designed for my son.

I lost all control and smashed the exhibition, then rushed forward to snatch it back, only for Ryland to block me desperately.

I slapped him across the face in front of everyone, and he shoved me down onto the shattered picture frames in retaliation.

The next day, the entire internet branded me as the deranged woman.

"Two years ago, if she hadn't lost her mind and gone speeding through the rainstorm, the little heir of the Payne family would never have died on the spot!"

"Exactly, she killed her own son through her recklessness, and now she wants to hurt her husband's benefactor. What a venomous witch."

I turned off my phone, and my gaze turned to ice, inch by inch.

Ryland Payne, this time, I decided to leave you for good.

...

I sat quietly on the cold sofa and waited.

A massive crash echoed from the entryway as the door flew open, kicked in violently from outside.

Ryland stormed in, reeking of alcohol.

He clutched a document in his hand, the divorce agreement I had already signed and sent over by my lawyer.

Right in front of me, he tore that agreement to shreds. "Elena Andrews, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now!"

Ryland seized my wrist with crushing force, and I winced in pain. "You caused a scene at the exhibition, and now you're pulling this divorce nonsense! Do you think the Payne family's reputation hasn't been humiliated enough!"

He leaned down, and the foul stench of booze washed over my face, turning my stomach.

I lifted my eyes and stared at him coldly.

Then I raised my other hand and pointed to the tablet on the coffee table, its screen still glowing.

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