Revenge Wears a Soft Smile

Revenge Wears a Soft Smile

Grump

5.0
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The morning sun streamed into my penthouse, just like any other day. My fiancé, Liam, walked in with coffee and a croissant, his perfect smile radiating devotion. But the world had been dark just moments before, stained with the taste of blood and the memory of his smiling face as I lay dying on the cold floor of an institution. Now, it was two years before that horrific end. Two years before he destroyed everything and had me committed to a mental asylum. The last thing I remembered was his betrayal, his cruel laughter as my life, my company, and my sanity were systematically stripped away for his ambition. I watched him now, playing the part of the loving partner, reminiscing about the "Project Titan" software that was once my life' s work, the very foundation he would steal and rebrand as his own. He told me I was working too hard, that he would "take the pressure off." It was the same speech, the same insidious opening move he' d used before. A practiced performance that had once fooled me completely. How could I have been so blind, so naive, to open my heart and my world to such a snake? The memories of his lies, his manipulation, his ultimate act of sending me to an early grave, burned through me. But this time, the pain was fuel, not weakness. My smile might have been soft, but inside, a cold certainty settled deep in my bones. This wasn't a dream. It was a do-over. He thought he had won. He thought this was the start of everything for him. He was right. It was the start of his end. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

Introduction

The morning sun streamed into my penthouse, just like any other day.

My fiancé, Liam, walked in with coffee and a croissant, his perfect smile radiating devotion.

But the world had been dark just moments before, stained with the taste of blood and the memory of his smiling face as I lay dying on the cold floor of an institution.

Now, it was two years before that horrific end.

Two years before he destroyed everything and had me committed to a mental asylum.

The last thing I remembered was his betrayal, his cruel laughter as my life, my company, and my sanity were systematically stripped away for his ambition.

I watched him now, playing the part of the loving partner, reminiscing about the "Project Titan" software that was once my life' s work, the very foundation he would steal and rebrand as his own.

He told me I was working too hard, that he would "take the pressure off."

It was the same speech, the same insidious opening move he' d used before.

A practiced performance that had once fooled me completely.

How could I have been so blind, so naive, to open my heart and my world to such a snake?

The memories of his lies, his manipulation, his ultimate act of sending me to an early grave, burned through me.

But this time, the pain was fuel, not weakness.

My smile might have been soft, but inside, a cold certainty settled deep in my bones.

This wasn't a dream.

It was a do-over.

He thought he had won.

He thought this was the start of everything for him.

He was right.

It was the start of his end.

And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

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I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

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