Dear Ex-husband, I'm back for revenge

(third person pov) Damien Blackthorne stood frozen. For a long second his body betrayed him: throat tight, hands numb. He stayed planted on that stage, cameras flashing like tiny suns, guests whispering into the hush, and in the middle of it all was the woman who had once been the center of his world. Evelyn. Five years. Five years since she vanished without a single explanation. Now she stood before him, alive, breathing, holding a marriage contract with the same sharp smile he had once mistaken for love. “Darling,” she said, gliding her voice across the stunned crowd, “I heard you are a man of time. Would you really make a beautiful woman like me wait and risk your perfect reputation?” Her red gown fell around her in a blaze. Every step she took felt to Damien like a blade being turned into his chest. “So,” she tilted her head, the motion casual and lethal, “what do you say, Damien Blackthorne? Do you dare sign the document?” He said nothing. Not immediately. Colt, his

(third person pov) Somewhere in the City – A Small Bar The dim yellow lights flickered against the cracked walls of a dingy bar. At the far corner, a man lounged with careless arrogance, his chair tipped back, a glass of whiskey sweating on the table. His phone screen glowed in the low light, and a slow, wicked chuckle rolled from his throat. Heads turned. He didn’t care. He looked like a man who had just found something dangerous—something worth burning the world for. “Damien’s worst nightmare is back,” Allen murmured, the corners of his lips curling as if savoring the words. Across from him, his assistant Reo slipped into the seat, eyes wary. Allen’s chuckle swelled into laughter, dark and unrestrained. "Reo," Allen said, not looking up as his assistant materialized from the shadows. "Look at her. Five years in the wild, and she returns not as a beggar, but as a queen ready to reclaim her throne. A throne she thinks my brother stole. It’s like heaven itself is playing on m

Evelyn povI dressed up for work and took one of Damien’s cars, the one with mirror tint. I was meeting Sophia at a café near the estate.She was already waiting when I walked in. We hugged tight.“Look at you,” she teased. “Rolling up in Damien’s car like a mafia wife. Should I start calling you Mrs. Power-Trip now?”“Shut up,” I said, laughing as I slid into the seat across from her. “It was just parked there. Convenient.”She raised a brow. “Convenient, my ass. You love the drama. Admit it.”I stirred my coffee with unnecessary focus. “Drama follows me. I don’t chase it.”“Uh-huh.” Sophia leaned closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “So? How was day one and two with the infamous Mr. Damien? Give me the tea, Evie. No holding back.”“Don’t get me started.” I sank into the chair.Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m already started. Spill.”I leaned in, lowering my voice. “You won’t believe what happened this morning.”She grinned. “Try me.”“I made him breakfast.”Her jaw dropped. “You cooked?

(Evelyn’s POV)I woke up beside Damien.For a moment, just a moment, I let myself stare. The way his jaw was carved like stone, his lashes brushing his cheek, the proud arch of his nose. He looked like something sculpted by gods, not born of flesh. My chest tightened. For a single, unforgivable second, my breath caught. He was still devastatingly beautiful. A masterpiece of a man.Then I snapped out of it.Evelyn, what the hell are you doing? Admiring the enemy? This is exactly how women lose wars—falling in love with their captors.I slipped out of bed quietly, but his voice pinned me to the spot.“Are you done with your inspection? I’m flattered. I'm all yours, don't worry"My heart jumped. His eyes were open, watching me, amusement tugging at his lips.I forced a smile, sliding back into character. “Baby, you’re awake. I didn’t know.”He sat up, and I curled beside him, lowering my voice like I was confessing a secret. “I wanted to discuss something with you.”His brows lifted. “Wh

(Evelyn’s POV)Colt led me through the hall and into my office. I glanced around once, my lips curving. A corner office. Right next to Damien’s.Perfect. A queen needs her throne close to the king if she plans to topple him.I sat for a while, went through the paperwork Colt handed me, signed what needed signing, and slipped the rest aside. The work didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had planted myself in Damien’s world again, close enough to watch every twitch of his jaw, every frown he tried to hide.When I finally rose and stepped out, I felt their eyes. Every single one of them. The stares burned from every corner, admiration, envy, whispers. I didn’t expect anything less. After all, I was the woman who had stormed into that party and cut the dreams of a hundred girls who wanted Damien. That thought alone warmed me.I kept walking, my heels sharp on the tiles, dismissing them with a tilt of my chin. Let them whisper. Let them hate. They would learn soon enough—I wasn’t here