“Do you really have to play this dirty game to take revenge on me, Demi?" her ex-husband asked at last. And Demi grinned with such seductive power. “Oh no, It’s not a game, Jeff. It’s just giving you the same doze of your own medicine.” she replied with fiery glare in her eyes. by the look on Demi's face, she was determined to take her revenge just as Jeff, her ruthless ex-husband, has said earlier. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In her hope that real love would blossom free from the shadow of her wealthy and strong family background, Demi Perez had to subtly hide her own identity from her husband, Jeff Ortega. And for the past five years of marriage, all that she ever did was pour all that she has to offer into their marriage, only to be met with cold indifference—and divorce papers that would end things between them. With Demi’s beauty and brains along with her wealth, she had completely conquered the corporate world and made some great impressions everywhere she went, and that includes dominating the failing company of her ex-husband. And in just a year after her divorce, Demi came back powerful and famous. No longer was she the once naive ex-wife that Jeff left behind, because right now, Demi has once again reclaimed her status as the elite and powerful heiress of the Perez clan. But as their old flames rekindle, Jeff wasn’t sure if he still wanted retribution or if he wanted her back. While Demi, on the other hand, has to decide whether she would finish what she started, or risk her heart all over again.
View More(Demi’s POV)
The divorce papers were glaring back at me from the mahogany table like some sort of a nasty reminder of my shortcomings as housewife. My trembling fingers brushed over the ink where my husband, Jeff Ortega’s, signature glared at me, bold and resolute.
His decision was final, and it was unyielding just as the man himself.
However, Jeff was standing in front of the window even as I turn and witnessed how the soft afternoon light shining on his erect figure. His eyes were as cold and far away as before, and his sharp facial features were etched with resolve. The distance between us was heightened by his coldness, even with his back facing my direction.
“I’ve already signed the papers. You should hurry and sign them too,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. “I want everything finalized before Stella returns.”
Stella. The name cut through me like a blade. My throat tightened as I fought back tears.
Jeff didn’t even glance in my direction. “We’ve agreed on the partition of assets before marriage, so there shouldn’t be any disputes. But I’ll compensate you with fifty million dollars and a house near the border. My father…” He hesitated for a moment, then continued, “He would expect me to offer you something substantial.”
“Does… does your dad know you’re divorcing me?” My voice cracked as I finally forced the words out.
Jeff’s laugh was humorless. “Does it matter? Do you think if he knew it would change anything?”
The weight of his words pressed down on my chest. My grip on the table tightened as I tried to steady myself. “Jeff,” I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “Can we not get a divorce?”
At that, he spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve had enough, Demi! Every second of this marriage has been torture. A loveless, miserable relationship—that’s all you’ve given me.”
His words tore through the weak hope I had held onto for so long like a mallet. Even though tears were streaming down my cheeks, I resisted showing him how helpless I was.
“It was a mistake from the start,” he continued. “You knew I loved someone else, yet you agreed to this charade. Now that the five-year agreement is over and Stella is returning, it’s time for you to step aside give her the position of being my wife where it truly belongs.”
Step aside. He was quick to address me that way as though my feelings, sacrifices, and my existence were nothing to him at all. At this point, all that I wanted was to cry out loud, to demand that he acknowledge everything I’d endured for years. But Instead, I could only afford to lower my head as my tears continued to soak the divorce papers lying beneath me.
And then, Jeff’s phone buzzed, cutting through the suffocating silence between us. His behavior quickly changed and it shifted immediately into someone completely different as he answered the call.
“Hello, Stella,” he said softly, his voice dripping with warmth that I had never heard directed at me. “What?! You’re already at the airport? I thought your flight is scheduled tomorrow evening? Alright. I’ll pick you up right now then. Wait for me.”
Without another glance in my direction, he strode out of the room, leaving me with the papers and the shards of my broken heart.
***
I watched that evening from the sideline while everyone seemed too busy especially as Jeff entered the manor cuddling Stella in his arms. The joy of the workers filled the house, and I couldn't help but feel out of place in my own house.
My heart ached at the sound of Stella's laughter that filled the corridors of the manor. "Jeff, do you think all of this seems off? I mean, Demi might hate me for this.”
With a disdainful tone, he reassured her, "Oh, no worries. She won't. This marriage was never real to begin with. She knows her place.”
The words made my chest hurt even more. Even though I had given him everything, he still only saw me as a duty he must fulfill as part of the marriage arrangement.
And for that reason, I made up my mind later that night. I packed a little suitcase and sneaked out of the house without a word. Without looking back, I quickly hopped into the black Porsche waiting outside the gates. As I got inside, I instantly felt my heart tensed.
There, I was met with a worried smile by my childhood friend, Brent, who was handling the wheels.
"Hey Demi, are you certain about this? There’s no turning back once I move the car.” He inquired quietly.
Even though my hands were shaking, I nodded and spoke firmly. “Yes. Just go. I can’t stay in this place for another moment longer.”
***
The sound of the engine had drowned out my racing thoughts especially as Brent's car sped through the streets. In spite of the excruciating pain I was feeling deep within my chest, It would seem like I felt free for the first time in so many years.
“Where to?” Brent asked gently, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror.
I hesitated. “Anywhere but here.”
He understood and nodded. I had known Brent in the past, and he had always had faith in me. He hadn't thought twice about helping me when I had called him earlier, feeling hopeless and broken.
"You know that you deserve more than this." He whispered beside me.
Although I wasn't entirely sure I believed what he was meant with those words, I simply let it sink in. After everything, my heart still ached for Jeff. but despite this, I simply just couldn't get risk pushing myself to be with someone who only saw me as a hindrance to his happiness.
Brent dropped me off at the Imperial Hotel, far from the prying eyes of the Ortega family. Compared to the stuffy atmosphere of the Blue Manor, the air was clear and fresh.
"Just feel free to stay as long as you want to," Brent said, maintaining a steady gaze at my face that it makes me awkward for some reason. “Demi, you always underestimate how strong you are. Also, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. I silently promised myself something as soon as I entered the villa. Without Jeff Ortega, my life would be rebuilt piece by piece. A ray of hope appeared in my life for the first time in years.
The hotel turned into a haven for me, a healing space. Brent came back after parking his car, his presence a comforting reminder that not everyone in my life had abandoned me.
"You're doing better than I anticipated," he said in a playful tone.
With a tiny smile tugging at my lips, I answered, "I have to. For myself."
However, a part of me continued to yearn for the man who had broken my heart even as I moved on. Jeff Ortega might have discarded me, but he would never truly be gone from my thoughts.
The crisp night air brushed against my skin as Brent guided me onto the elevator. He had demanded this surprise in the hopes that it would cheer me up. The building was surrounded by glistening city lights.
I questioned in frustration, "Brent, what are you trying to show?"
He leaned against the railing and grinned. He looked at his watch and said, "My secretary planned this. Fireworks start in...three, two, one."
The night sky was painted with purple fireworks as a loud boom filled the air. Below us, couples gathered on the balcony, their faces beaming with joy. I grinned in spite of myself.
"Your secretary has terrible taste," I shook my head.
Brent chuckled. "Better than his past attempts. And there’s more. Gifts from everyone are waiting in your room. You’re loved, Demi. It’s time to focus on the people who truly deserve your love."
His words brought a lump to my throat. I turned away, blinking back tears.
Sister Marguerite's gnarled fingers trembled as she extended the file folder. The faded label read *Subject D-29* in Ryans' precise handwriting.I reached for it, but Daniela was faster.Her breath hitched as she flipped it open. Inside: a birth certificate for Mateo Perez, born eighteen months after our separation. Father: Unknown. Mother: Daniela Perez, age 13.The room spun."You never told me," I whispered.Daniela's laugh was razor-wire tight. "They took him from me the day he was born. Said I'd contaminated him." She traced the edge of the document where someone had stamped TERMINATION APPROVED. "Lina's his daughter."Lina coughed again, the sound wetter now. Blood speckled her palm.Jeff stepped forward, his medic training overriding his shock. "We need to get her to a hospital.""No!" Daniela clutched Lina closer. "They'll just let her die like they did him." Her manicured nails bit into the file folder. "But we have something better now."She flipped to the last page—a DNA an
The key felt heavy in my palm—cold, ordinary metal. No glow, no transformation. Just a simple silver key that could open any lock in Geneva.Jeff exhaled sharply beside me as the last of Daniela’s men disappeared into the night. The room was silent now, save for the distant wail of sirens. The children were still here, still asleep in their pods. No vanishing act. No shared consciousness. Just scared kids caught in our mess.I turned the key over in my fingers. "Where does this lead?"Jeff’s jaw tightened. "Only one way to find out."The smallest girl in the nearest pod stirred, her dark lashes fluttering. Not waking—just trapped in a restless sleep. The bruise on her cheek stood out against pale skin. I knew that kind of bruise. Knew exactly how it got there.Daniela’s voice crackled over the abandoned intercom, tinny and distant: "You always were sentimental, Demi."Then silence.Jeff touched my arm. "We need to go. Now."I looked at the key again. A address was etched into the meta
The streets of Geneva were slick with rain as we moved through the shadows, the Palais des Nations looming ahead like a gilded cage. Every light in its windows burned too bright, every shadow stretched too long.Jeff kept pace beside me, his silence more telling than words. He didn't trust this. Neither did I.But we were here anyway.The service entrance was unguarded—too unguarded. The metal door swung open at the barest touch, revealing a dimly lit corridor that smelled of antiseptic and something faintly metallic. My fingers brushed the dagger at my thigh out of habit."She wants you to come alone," Jeff had said back at the safehouse."Then it's a good thing I never listen," I'd replied.Now, his hand found the small of my back as we stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind us with finality. The hallway stretched before us, lined with doors marked with numbers instead of names. Somewhere beyond them, Daniela was waiting.And so were the children.A sound echoed from deeper w
The embossed invitation arrived in a black envelope, sealed with crimson wax.You are cordially invited to the auction of the century.Palais des Nations, Geneva. Midnight.Dress code: Blood and diamonds.Jeff crushed the card in his fist. "It's a trap."Nolan spun the accompanying flash drive on the table. "Or a surrender. Daniela's network is crumbling—Interpol raided three of her labs this week."Claudette set down her tea with a clatter. "Then why walk into her spectacle?"I met Jeff's gaze across the table. "Because she's offering something we want."The drive's contents played across the screen—a vault filled with rows of cryo-chambers. Each held a sleeping Lazarus subject. The camera panned to a control panel: *TERMINATION SEQUENCE INITIATED - 72:00:00*Daniela's recorded voice purred: "Come to my party, Demi. Let's negotiate their lives."The Palais des Nations glittered like a knife.Chandeliers dripped crystal above a sea of tuxedos and couture gowns. Security patrolled in w
Daniela's body hadn't even hit the floor before Jeff was at my side, his knife slicing through the restraints. His hands trembled as they brushed over my arms, my face—checking for injuries."She didn't hurt you?"I shook my head, still staring at Daniela's lifeless form. The syringe had rolled from her fingers, its contents now seeping into the concrete.Jeff followed my gaze, his jaw tightening. "She wasn't trying to save anyone." He pulled a tablet from his pocket, swiping to a video file. "Nolan found this in her Berlin safehouse."The screen showed a different room, another surgical table. But the girl strapped down wasn't an original—she was a clone. One of mine.Daniela's voice rang out from the recording: "The flaw isn't in our DNA. It's in theirs."The camera panned to show rows of incubation tanks, each holding a familiar face.Jeff's finger paused the video. "She wasn't harvesting you to cure the originals." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She was perfecting the clones."A
The interrogation room door hissed open.Daniela didn't look up as I entered, just traced idle circles on the steel table with a fingertip. Up close, the resemblance was uncanny—same arch of the brows, same slight crook in the nose from what might have been a long-ago break. But where my hands bore callouses from a decade of weapon drills, hers were soft. Untouched."You're taller than I expected," she said without looking up. Her voice was my own, but lighter. Unburdened.Jeff moved to stand behind me, his presence a solid wall at my back. Nolan and Elise hovered near the door, tension radiating off them in waves.Daniela finally lifted her gaze. "Do you remember the orange tree outside our bedroom window? How the branches would scrape against the glass during storms?"A fragment surfaced—wind howling, the scent of citrus, small hands clutching mine beneath a blanket fort.I clenched my fists. "Those aren't my memories.""Of course not." Daniela leaned forward, her dark eyes gleaming
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