"Please, I didn't betray you! I gave up everything for you. Don't I deserve your trust?" Celeste fell to her knees, pleading with her husband, Damien. "My trust? Hah, that's not something I'd give to a filthy slut," Damien said coldly, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. ****** Celeste's world shattered on their wedding anniversary. The man she loved and her dearest friend had conspired against her. They betrayed her, framed her, and humiliated her without mercy. But the worst part? They even locked her away in a mental institution, stripping her of her freedom. What could Celeste do to fight back? She had only one choice—ruthless revenge. "If they dare to betray me, they must face the full force of my wrath!" When Celeste finally let go of love, however,Damien suddenly changed. He pulled Celeste into a firm embrace "I've been searching for you so long. Please, forgive me and love me again!" But Celeste merely gazed at him, her voice devoid of emotion. "That is not something I give to you, my ex-husband."
View MoreCeleste’s POV
"Thank you all for coming to our wedding anniversary, but as of tonight, my marriage to Celeste is over. ”
Those were the first words my husband, Damien, uttered the moment he stepped into the room.
I looked at him, feeling like I had never known him before.
Then came the second blow.
“I am divorcing her.”
There was dead silence.
No, my mind screamed. This is not real.
It can’t be.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs as I forced my lips to part. But no words came out.
Today was supposed to be a celebration of our love…
How could Damien do this to me?!
*******
JUST MINUTES AGO
I stood before the mirror, smoothing down the shimmering fabric of my gown in the holding room.
I was filled with a foolish hope.
Perhaps tonight, my husband would finally learn to appreciate me, to care for me. After all, we’ve been together for two years.
I had planned every detail of the evening, ensuring that this wedding anniversary banquet would be nothing short of perfection.
But the one person who should have been by my side—my husband—was nowhere to be found.
I sighed, staring at my own reflection.
He doesn’t love me. He never did.
Sadly, to him, our marriage was no more than an obligation. And every day of our married life, he made me feel it. That he’d just been forced into this union and I was nothing to him.
I shook the thoughts away just as the door opened.
“Celeste Vaughn, my favorite friend in the world.”
Genevieve Hale stepped inside, her perfume wafting through the air.
She was draped in a classy designer gown, every inch of her exuding wealth and refinement. Such a stark contrast to the way we had grown up—two orphan girls trapped in poverty then, clinging to dreams of a better future.
"You look... lovely," she said with a smile. I couldn’t help but notice, though, that there was something detached about the compliment, as if it cost her to say it.
“You too,” I responded in a friendly manner, pretending not to recognize her bothered and unhappy.
“I heard about your parents,” I said cautiously. “You’ve found them?”
She nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
Her expression tightened, and seemed to refuse to express more about reuniting with the family.
That’s weird.
However, my phone vibrated on the vanity table before I could question her further.
I reached for it and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the sender’s name.
Auntie Eleanor. The director of the orphanage.
My fingers trembled as I unlocked the screen and read the message:
[Celeste, I have news about your parents. Come by when you have time:)]
For a moment, everything else faded away. My heart soared with hope.
“I see you’re still in touch with those people,” a sharp, condescending tone made me look up. It was my mother-in-law, Isadora Vaughn, looking over my shoulder with disdain. I didn’t even notice her sneaking up behind me.
“I was just—”
Isadora exhaled sharply. “Even after marrying into this family, you insist on clinging to the filth of your past. You little useless orphan.” she muttered with disgust.
I held back my tears, not daring to argue.
The door suddenly creaked open, making me turn toward the sound. It was Damien.
“Damien, you’re here,” I whispered with relief.
He stood at the front of the room, looking every bit the powerful CEO that he was—the man I had adored, married, and spent years trying to please.
But I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes were colder and darker than ever. And his face… It was rigid, emotionless. It made me shudder.
Before I could say anything else, he suddenly turned and walked away.
"Wait, Damien..." I reached out instinctively.
But he ignored me, going into the party with seeming purpose, his quick strides carrying him past the excited guests.
I followed behind him, wondering what was going on.
Something’s terribly, terribly wrong.
Damien reached the center of the room, where a beautifully designed stage had been set. He took the microphone from the announcer and turned to face the gathered crowd.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as he began to speak.
What is he doing?!
"Thank you all for coming to our wedding anniversary, but as of tonight, my marriage to Celeste is over. I am divorcing her."
Whispers and gasps erupted like wildfire.
Guests exchanged stunned glances. Some looked at me in shock, but most of their faces reflected abhorrence.
My body went numb. I stared at him, frozen in place, unable to comprehend what I had just heard.
This is not happening.
Then his eyes flashed furiously toward me. And when he spoke again, every word struck me hard.
"I won’t allow a shameless slut to be my wife,” he said in a quiet, lethal tone.
The world stopped. I was speechlessly in shock. What is he talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?!
Immediately, chaos broke out. Whispers and horrified stares enveloped me.
“No… I—”I shook my head, my lips trembling.
I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn’t even begin to understand any of it yet.
Just then, a flicker of light caught my eye. The massive LED screen behind me had lit up and a video had started playing.
I turned around and watched, along with everyone else. The footage was grainy, obviously secretly filmed. But I could clearly make out a man and a woman, their naked bodies pressed together in a fevered embrace. His hands gripped her bare waist, pulling her closer as she arched against him.
Their movements blazing with heat and desire. The moans echoed in the hall that everyone could hear clearly.
Their faces were blurred, but that didn’t really matter.
Because the woman had a birthmark. One identical to mine, right there on her chest.
"That woman in the video… It’s you, isn't it? Now what do you have to say for yourself?" Damien’s voice was cold.
A shuddering gasp tore through me as reality caved in.
“No… No, this is wrong! It’s not me.” I tried to protest, stutteringly.
But the damning evidence kept on playing, filling the room with every obscene sound.
The words from the woman who was enjoying the flickings descended me into hell.
"Damien Vaughn? He has no clue..." the woman in the video gasped between breathless moans. "I played him like a fool—took what I wanted, drained his company for millions, and he still fell for it." A low, sultry laugh followed, dripping with satisfaction.
No, it was fake. I would never treat Damien like this!
Just then, without warning, I heard a woman shout, "I told you she was filth!"
SLAP!
I felt it before I saw her. The slap landed hard, and a sharp sting burned across my cheek, my head snapping to the side from the sheer force of the blow.
My skin flamed, and I suddenly felt my ears ringing. Then through the haze of pain, I saw Isadora, her eyes filled with disgust as she lowered her hand.
I clutched my cheek, “That’s not me! I swear it’s not! I don’t know how…” My voice was breaking.
“That’s clearly you,” Damien said, his cold voice making my heart jump.
He stepped closer, not to defend me from his mother, but to tear me down even further.
“I released your video. Will your secret lover come to save you?” he demanded angrily. “Where is he, huh? Who is he?!”
He moved forward menacingly, making me stumble backwards. His fury had erupted without restraint, and I was afraid he might hurt me.
“Damien, there’s really no one…” I tried to explain despite my sudden fear of him in that instance.
Then to my surprise, a sharp, choked sob pierced the air at once.
"Celeste…" Genevieve’s voice quivered as tears pooled in her eyes. "I knew you still love him and dated him secretly. Sorry, I can’t cover it anymore. You shouldn’t betray Damien."
My breath hitched. What?!
Before I could react, Genevieve turned to the crowd, her face twisted in anguish. "She used Damien’s love against the man! She gained his trust, then transferred company assets to her lover!"
A fresh wave of gasps rippled through the crowd.
I stood there, frozen. The very person I had grown up with—the one I had trusted most—was the one shoving the knife deeper into my back.
"You’re lying!" My voice was raw with disbelief. "Why are you doing this?!"
I grabbed Genevieve’s wrist, desperate to stop her, to make her look me in the eyes and tell me why she was slandering me, betraying me like this!
But the moment my fingers touched her, she lurched backward, crashing into the towering display of champagne glasses.
CRASH! SHATTER!
Glass shattered around us, crystal shards raining to the floor as the tower collapsed in a cascade of destruction.
Gasps turned to screams! It was in complete chaos.
I felt a sharp pain searing my palm. Genevieve pressed something cold and jagged into my hand. My fingers instinctively curled around.
Glass.
“Ow—” Genevieve’s deafening scream echoed against the walls.
"SHE CUT ME!" she wailed, grasping her leg as blood seeped through the fabric of her gown. "She did it on purpose! HELP!"
"Call the police!" someone shouted.
My heart dropped. A pounding noise filled my ears. Then panic rapidly wrapped around me, blending with the excruciating pain of betrayal.
And suddenly… the sound of footsteps came.
It was Damien, coming forward and towering above me. He looked calm on the surface, but his words were another story.
"You will pay for this,” he told me through gritted teeth.
Tears blurred my vision as I stood there in great shock, unable to reply, unable to move.
Damien’s POVI stared at the man cowering on the ground, his mouth clamped shut but his eyes screaming the truth.Genevieve.Vesper.The pieces slid into place in my mind like broken glass reforming—jagged and dangerous. She wasn’t acting alone. This wasn’t just petty revenge or some desperate grab for attention.This was war.And she had help.From people who didn’t blink at hospital abductions or putting a gun to someone’s head.“Darrow,” I snapped, rising to my feet and backing away from the man. “Dig into it. I want everything in the Vesper Mafia. Names. Shell companies. Recent movements. Find out how Genevieve got involved. And if it leads back to Nico—I want to know yesterday.”But Darrow didn’t move. He stood by the open trunk of the SUV, one hand resting on the closed case of tools, his expression unreadable beneath the shadows.Then, quietly, he asked, “Have you decided?”I stiffened. “What?”“You’ve always avoided these things,” he said, voice low, almost thoughtful. His wo
Celeste’s POVMy legs moved before my mind could catch up. I rushed to the black car and yanked the rear door open.Auntie Eleanor lay motionless on the gurney, her face pale, lips slightly parted. Tubes still hung from her arms—whoever this man was, he hadn’t even bothered to remove the evidence of the hospital setup. She looked fragile, like a porcelain doll that might shatter at the slightest touch. But she was breathing.My chest tightened. Relief and rage tangled inside me like a storm."I’ll get you out of here," I whispered, carefully sliding her out of the vehicle with trembling hands.She was unconscious, still deep in that coma she’d never woken from. But at least she was alive.I cradled her as best I could, dragging open the back door of Damien’s car. Gently, I laid her down across the back seat, adjusting her head with practiced care. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking."Just hold on," I whispered. "Please, just hold on."When I turned back, Damien was crouched low over the m
Celeste’s POVThe streets blurred past as we sped through the Westfield District, eyes flicking from the road to the navigation app and back. I sat rigid in the passenger seat, my phone clenched tight in my hand. We had just gotten the update from Kessler—the black Santana was last seen turning onto Amber Ridge Avenue. We were minutes behind.Then we saw it."There!" Damien shouted, slamming the steering wheel to the left. The black Santana was at the far end of the intersection, its taillights flickering briefly as it turned.He floored the accelerator."That’s them," I gasped.Damien slammed on the accelerator. The car roared beneath us, tires squealing as we flew forward. He honked twice, weaving to the side and overtaking the lane. Then, in a bold move, he jerked the wheel, cutting off the Santana’s path and forcing them to stop near a shadowy warehouse.Damien rolled down his window, the engine rumbling low beneath us. "Step out! Hand her over. Now."The driver didn’t move.For a
Celeste’s POV"It’s me," the voice whispered quickly. "It’s Damien."My whole body went slack with recognition, breath catching somewhere between panic and relief. My knees buckled slightly as the adrenaline surged through me, then crashed like a wave. I shoved his hand off my mouth, gasping for breath."Are you insane?!" I hissed, whirling around to glare at him. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"“I just have to talk to you alone, Celeste,” he explained in a rush. “Now is not the time, Damien. Auntie Eleanor —” I started anxiously.“Yes, I know what happened to her,” he cut me off. I stopped. "What?"How could he know already? The way he said it so calmly—it was too prepared. A cold suspicion slithered up my spine. I hated the thought that he might still have people keeping tabs on me.But then, Damien pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. "As a precaution, I had discreet surveillance installed in her room. Just in case. After what happened at the prison, I couldn’t take a
Damien’s POVI could tell she was furious. Her arms crossed, her eyes locked on me with that sharp, stinging disgust I hadn’t seen since the divorce. I hadn’t even thought twice when I heard she’d been discharged earlier than it was supposed to be. I just dropped everything and ran. Especially when I heard about the prison riot where Genevieve was held, followed immediately by Celeste's emergency discharge from the hospital. I couldn't help but connect these two events—did someone make a move against Celeste?But now, standing there in front of her, all I could feel was how wide the distance between us had become.“I only wanted to make sure you were safe,” I said, trying to control the frustration in my voice. “I heard there was a riot at the prison.”Celeste’s eyes flashed. Theo stepped closer beside her, a subtle move but loud enough in meaning. Possessive. Protective. Just like the distance between Celeste and me in the past.“She left with me and we’d informed her doctor,” The
Celeste’s POVThe night outside was dark, but the shadows inside me were darker.I sat in silence as the car sped forward, the rhythm of the tires on the pavement a dull, steady thrum in the background. Theo glanced sideways, one hand steady on the wheel, his voice breaking through the quiet."You don’t have to look so defeated, you know."I blinked. "I’m not." But I was. And we both knew it.He gave a soft huff of breath. "You know... biological parents aren’t some kind of magic fix. Lots of people grow up with theirs and still end up with miserable families. You, on the other hand, have a career you built with your own hands, people who rely on you, and people who would fight for you."I looked out the window. City lights passed by like distant stars. "I know. I just thought it would feel different.""You were excited," he said gently. "And they disappointed you. That’s not on you."I nodded slowly. "At first, when they said I was their daughter... I felt something. Like maybe I’d
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