Marrying My Ex's Rival For Sweet Revenge

Stant

ed to share with my fiancé, Jaimen Blackburn

had never felt so h

pinned beneath him on the charcoal-gray s

raced against the cushions beside her head. The leather beneath his fingers was pulled ti

e buried against her neck, their bodies pressed so cl

bove them h

e over Jaimen's shoulder. Beneath it, on the sofa I'd

one proved the

llowing the anger every time his family looked down on me, of enduring my

. The lock clicked open

nd. Clothes were scattered across the floor, a throw blanket had been dragged half off the

gle came from the bedroom, fol

breath and walked

half-open b

rack that made the two figures on th

een in gossip magazines-shrieked and

ure, unadulterated panic flashed in his ey

pointed straight at Jaimen, still

door. "Or maybe explain the b

phone, the photo still

plain

ed to his feet, hurriedly pulling

idn't mean anything."turning my back and walking into the living room. Te

g for my arm. I ripped i

amond had once been my ticket out of the Hicks fami

the front of his shirt, and shov

done, J

ed into the living room and froze when they saw Jaimen and me standing opposite each other. The laughter died instant

stares. What had started behind closed doo

and steady. "Jaimen Blackburn was screwing a

ent through the cro

ela, stop making a scene!" he hissed, a

the las

boot and drove it

caped him, and he stumble

Everyone stared, shocked by

pure, liberating satisfaction wa

rned and

started to tremble. I didn't go home. The Hic

d. The same an

e: "Well don

een. I didn't reply. Who the h

d into the cold New York air, still

of the one place Jaimen wouldn't think to look

ights blur past. The thrill of revenge was fading,

eeded to escape the twin swamps of t

ed the anonymous number, but it

d already hear what she would say: she'd blame me for ruining the "perfect

passing lights, th

make sure everyone knew exactly