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Revenge Marriage: The Jilted Ballerina's Comeback

Chapter 3 3

Word Count: 802    |    Released on: 21/01/2026

sheet with her. She wrapped it around her body lik

the floor fo

door. It was ruined. Stained with mud,

ttered frantically to herself, picking up

ing gray sweatpants now, holding a small espresso cup.

ctly?" he aske

eels under a chair. She c

insisted, turning to him. "You know I

row. He set the espress

think it was a mista

member 2 AM

her hair. Her mouth on his neck. The desperat

his pocket and pulle

iving room and the hallway," he s

he clutched the

would

giant OLED screen mounted on

n flicker

ut clear. It showed the

pened. Charlton and

guide her toward the guest room.

ed. She grabbed the lap

him again

e Daphne

e kissed him. It wasn't a tentative kis

air for a moment, hesitant, be

ck slightly. Her face was v

he audio picked up clearly. "Ple

again, pulling him

blood rush to her face. She co

! Turn it of

froze on her face-eyes closed, lips

aid. His voice dropped an o

ached out and gently pulled

ok at him. She st

he said. "I don't re

m then. Her heart hamm

e was a question there, something

g back. Her defense mech

er voice shaking. "Our friendship...

ardened. The vuln

you dating a moron," he sai

. He disappeared for a moment and came

sed it

e have a situat

hift gave Daphne whiplash. One minute h

" she asked, cat

cleaned up

retreating towa

She leaned against the sink, star

d under her eyes. Her

oked c

purple, was bloomin

d it. It w

Charlton stood in th

ed at the way Daphne was holding him, as if he were

cted th

le

rm De

een wen

down. He would never let anyone see that. But he needed her to see it. He

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Revenge Marriage: The Jilted Ballerina's Comeback
Revenge Marriage: The Jilted Ballerina's Comeback
“I stood in the ballroom of the Pierre Hotel, holding a champagne flute that felt like a fragile anchor against a rising tide of anxiety. Across the room, the crowd of New York's elite parted as my fiancé, Campbell Brock, stepped onto the stage to announce a historic merger-and a shocking engagement to someone else. "I am proud to announce my engagement to Kandice Rose," he said, pulling the "real" daughter of the family into his arms while looking right through me as if I were a ghost. I dropped my glass, the crystal shattering at my feet, but the public humiliation was only the beginning. By the next morning, I was a viral meme dubbed the "Meltdown Girl," and the American Ballet Theatre had suspended me from my position as principal dancer for "moral turpitude." My bank accounts were frozen, my reputation was in tatters, and Kandice was on a livestream tearfully claiming I was a jealous foster girl who had tried to seduce Campbell behind her back. I had spent four years building a life with this man, only to be discarded like a piece of old wallpaper the moment a better business deal came along. How could the man who promised me a future turn me into a national joke overnight, and why was the world so eager to believe I was the villain in my own tragedy? When my high school best friend, the notorious billionaire playboy Charlton Bernard, found me drinking tequila in a dive bar, he didn't offer me a shoulder to cry on. He slid a marriage contract across the table and pressed a black titanium credit card into my hand. "Marry me for a year, Daphne," he said, his eyes burning with a dark, protective intensity that made my heart race. "We'll join their reality show as newlyweds and show the world exactly who the real winner is." I looked at the card, then at the man who had always been my shadow, and realized that being sensible had only gotten me dumped on a stage. "Let's go get married."”