Betrayed, Contract Marriage with Mr. Devil

"I'm going to end my relationship with that stupid girl."

It was as if lightning had struck when Giselle stood frozen behind the door of the luxurious hotel room. The voice was unmistakable—Dirly’s. The man she had fallen deeply in love with. And yet, his words pierced her like a knife.

Her whole body trembled. The phone in her hand shook violently, nearly slipping from her grip.

Slowly, she pushed open the slightly ajar door, her heart crumbling. It hurt—like a dagger twisting in her chest.

There he was. Dirly. In bed with a beautiful blonde woman. The two were covered only by loosely draped blankets, their bodies intertwined beneath the sheets.

"Dirly..." she whispered in disbelief.

Dirly turned sharply. His eyes widened in shock as he saw the girl who had trusted him completely standing there—face pale, heart shattered.

"Giselle?!" he blurted out, panic rising in his voice. "What are you doing here?!" he snapped.

Giselle raised her phone, aiming it at the scene.

"You're such a bastard! I gave you everything—all of my mom and dad's assets! And this is what I get in return?!"

The blonde woman smirked, her fingers trailing over Dirly’s shoulder. She seemed unfazed. "Oh, so this is the stupid girl you mentioned, darling?"

"Yes, Aura," Dirly muttered, brushing her hand off and getting out of bed. He stormed over and grabbed Giselle’s phone. "How dare you try to record this?!"

"Dirly! Give it back!" she yelled, reaching for it—but he was faster.

The phone slipped from their hands and crashed onto the marble floor, shattered.

"I can't believe this..." Giselle whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I trusted you. You said you'd protect me. You said you'd marry me. But..."

Dirly leaned in close, his expression cruel and mocking. "You're pathetic, Giselle. I was only using you. Did you really think I loved a naïve little girl like you? Don’t kid yourself. I’ve been after your parents’ fortune all along. And now? I have it. Hahaha..."

Giselle lifted her hand to slap him, but Dirly struck first—his slap landed hard, sending her crashing to the floor.

Aura simply watched, smiling smugly.

"Stop it!" Giselle screamed, forcing herself up. But Dirly grabbed her by the neck, squeezing.

"Don’t you dare come near me again," he hissed. "You have *nothing* now. Everything you owned? It’s mine. And you're all alone."

Giselle sobbed—not from fear, but from pure rage. The bruises on her skin might fade, but the betrayal cut deeper than anything else.

As Dirly and Aura retreated into the room, Giselle stumbled away, her steps unsteady. But her resolve was unshakable. She would make him pay.

Just two days ago, she had turned nineteen. On that day, her parents’ lawyer had handed over the inheritance—everything her late mother and father had left for their only daughter. They had died in a tragic accident when Giselle was just ten.

And how foolish she had been. Without hesitation, she entrusted it all to Dirly. They had been dating for two years, and Giselle didn’t want the burden of managing her father's company. So she gave it to him.

"I'm so stupid," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Dad, Mom... I'm sorry. But..." She wiped her tears and lifted her chin.

"You don’t have to worry. I’ll take everything back."

***

Nine o'clock in the evening. A light drizzle began to fall, soaking Giselle's tangled hair. With unsteady steps, she walked along the deserted sidewalk. The only sounds were the falling rain and the rapid beating of her heart.

"I don’t have anyone now…" she thought. "But I can’t be weak! I must take revenge—no matter what it takes."

Dirly had kicked her out. All of her belongings had been thrown outside. She wasn’t even allowed to step inside the house.

Suddenly, gunshots rang out.

DORR! DORR! DORR!

Giselle froze, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. A few meters ahead, a man dressed in black was staggering. He glanced back, then tried to run again—but his steps faltered.

"He’s… bleeding?!"

She could see clearly now—his back was drenched in blood, the fabric of his shirt torn and soaked.

“Hey! Are you okay?!” Giselle called out in panic.

The man didn’t respond. He gave her a quick glance before collapsing to the ground.

Without hesitation, Giselle rushed to him. “Oh my God! Hey, wake up! Can you hear me?”

“Don’t... touch me... get out of here...” the man hissed weakly.

“I’m going to help you! If I leave now, you’ll die!”

With great effort, Giselle dragged his heavy body into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. His breathing was labored, sweat soaked his forehead, and blood continued to seep from his wound.

She pulled a cloth from her small bag and tore the bottom of his already-ripped shirt.

“You were shot. But it looks like the bullet didn’t go in too deep. I need to stop the bleeding.”

The man glanced at her through half-lidded eyes. “Fool... why would you dare help me? Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

“I’m not afraid of death. I have to save you. Now shut up and stop talking.”

Her hands trembled as she pressed down on the wound. “Hold still... this is going to hurt.”

He grunted, his jaw clenched against the pain. But he didn’t scream. He didn’t even complain.

“Why are they chasing you?” Giselle asked quietly.

“Don’t ask so many questions, silly girl.”

Giselle shot him a sharp look. "This man is seriously annoying," she thought.

The rain grew heavier. The narrow space around them darkened, lit only by flashes of lightning through the cracked, leaky tiles overhead.

After a few tense minutes, Giselle wrapped a tight cloth around the wound. “It’s done. That should be enough to stop the bleeding for now.”

The man leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the ceiling. A heavy silence settled over them. Giselle was actually terrified—but she pushed the fear aside.

“Mr. Leon! Are you alright?!” a man’s voice called out nearby—it was the stranger’s assistant.

Giselle froze. “WHAT?! That name… Could it be… him?”