[WARNING: DARK. BDSM] Elise's life was a golden cage until it became a death sentence. She dies with a curse on her lips, having been betrayed by her husband and family. But fate has other plans. Elise is reborn with memories of her past life intact, and a burning desire for vengeance coursing through her veins. This time, Elise is no pawn. She’s a predator! Desperation drives her into the devil’s arms. But the true danger begins when she realizes he’s not what she feared...he’s worse. Dangerous. Magnetic. Scarred. A man harboring secrets as dark as his own thirst for retribution. Their eunion is a collision of manipulation, power, and raw desire. They forge a twisted alliance, a marriage of convenience that’s anything but convenient.
View MoreELISE
"Hurry," Natasha urges in a low voice. "You will soon be called to give your anniversary speech and she'll come looking for us soon."
I freeze outside my office door, my hand hovering above the handle. Natasha 's voice stops me from entering.
"Almost done," Alexander mutters. "That's the last of the safety reports. What about the offshore accounts?"
My husband. And my stepsister. In my office. Discussing... what exactly?
"Already taken care of. Father signed the transfer papers this morning. The Singapore branch is fully independent now, no CASSOVILE oversight."
I hear movement, then Alexander's voice again. "You're brilliant, you know that? Elise never suspected a thing."
My name in his mouth feels like a betrayal already. I pull out my phone and start recording.
"Poor Elise," Natasha 's tone is mocking. "Always so worried about doing the right thing. She never understood that the right thing is whatever makes the most money."
My chest tightens as Alexander responds. "Her obsession with ethics would've ruined us." I hear rustling fabric. "These new devices will bring in billions, no matter a few... issues."
"A few dead patients are nothing compared to controlling the market," Natasha whispers before I hear the unmistakable sounds of kissing.
My hand shakes, but I keep recording. Every word, every sound, every betrayal is caught on camera.
I’ve seen enough when Alexander starts unbuttoning Natasha 's dress.
I step away from the door, quickly sending the video to my secure cloud storage and forwarding it to my most trusted assistant, Marcus with instructions to protect the file.
I hurry back to the ballroom and find my father.
"There you are." He frowns as I approach. "Alexander has been looking for you. He's about to announce the Singapore expansion."
"I'm sure he has." I keep my voice even. "Dad, I need to talk to you alone. Right now. Before the presentation."
His frown deepens. "Whatever it is, it can wait. This is a major moment for the company."
"More important than knowing your son-in-law is cheating on me with your stepdaughter while covering up dangerous product failures?" I say.
Dad stiffens. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." I meet his stare without blinking. "I have proof. A video from five minutes ago."
"This is ridiculous!" He glances around, making sure no one is listening. "You're exhausted. These wild accusations—"
"They're not accusations." I pull out my phone and turn the screen toward him. "Look."
Dad's face loses its color when he recognizes the people in the video.
"This could ruin everything we've built."
"They're already ruining it. The Singapore branch is just a front to hide faulty medical devices from CASSOVILE regulators."
Before he can answer, Alexander appears beside him with Natasha right behind.
Both look perfectly composed. Clothes neat, hair flawless. Only the faint smudge of lipstick on Natasha 's lips hints at what they've been doing.
"There you are, darling." Alexander places a firm hand on my waist. "We were starting to worry."
"How kind of you," I reply, stepping out of his reach. "Especially since you've been busy erasing evidence."
Alexander's smile stays in place, but his eyes turn cold. "I have no idea what you mean. I've been trying to prepare for the presentation."
"Liar!" The word leaves my mouth louder than expected, making a few guests glance our way.
Natasha steps closer with concern etched into her features. "Elise, are you all right? You seem... upset."
"I'm perfectly fine, Natasha." My smile is sharp. "How's your lipstick holding up? Looks a little... smudged."
Natasha 's hand flies to her mouth and eyes widened for a second before she recovers. "The downside of drinking champagne. Maybe you've had too much yourself?"
Dad steps in urgently. "This isn't the time. We'll talk after the presentation."
"There won't be a presentation!" I stand tall. "Not until the board knows the truth about Singapore and the cover-ups."
Alexander's fake concern deepens. "Henry, I'm really worried about Elise. She's been under a lot of stress. These claims, they don't make sense."
"They make perfect sense!" I pull away when he tries to touch me. "And I can prove it."
I lift my phone, showing the video of Alexander and Natasha in my office.
A small crowd starts gathering, drawn by the tension.
"Elise, stop this," my father warns. "You're causing a scene."
"A scene?" I let out a cold laugh. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Turning to the crowd, I raise my voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for interrupting, but as heiress of Blackwood Tech, I need to share something serious."
"She's having a breakdown," Natasha whispers loudly to a nearby board member, already holding up her phone to record.
Alexander steps closer. His face is one of concern and embarrassment. "Elise, sweetheart, let's talk in private. You're not feeling well."
"Don't touch me!" I yank my arm away. "I'm thinking more clearly than ever."
I face the growing audience. "For months, I've been looking into safety problems with our new heart devices. People have died because of failures we knew about yet ignored. I gathered reports, collected proof, and planned to show it all to the board tonight."
The crowd murmurs. Investors exchange worried looks and reporters start taking notes.
"But tonight, I found out that my husband has been destroying that proof." My voice stays firm, though my heart pounds. "With my stepsister Natasha 's help, he set up a secret operation in Singapore to avoid CASSOVILE safety rules and keep selling faulty devices."
"This is a lie," Alexander snaps and his polished mask starting to slip. "Henry, control your daughter!"
Dad moves between me and the crowd. "My daughter has been working too hard. The stress of her role—"
"Don't treat me like a child, Dad!" I step around him. "I have video proof of Alexander and Natasha tonight, deleting safety reports and discussing illegal accounts."
Natasha stands at the edge of the crowd with phone raised, recording every word. Her face shows perfect concern like a worried sister watching a breakdown.
"She's been imagining things for weeks," Natasha tells those around her. "The doctors say it's paranoia. We've been so worried about her."
"Doctors?" someone in the crowd asks.
"We've spoken to specialists," Alexander adds with fake sympathy. "Elise has been under extreme pressure. The delusions started a month ago."
"They're not delusions!" My calm starts to slip. I hold up my phone. "I have proof, a video of them admitting everything."
I press play. However, the screen stays black. Confused, I check my cloud storage only to find it's empty.
My sent messages are also gone.
Panic sets in as I realize the evidence has disappeared.
"What did you do?" I stare at Alexander.
He watches me with fake sympathy. "I did nothing, Elise." His voice is soft and careful.
It's the way someone speaks to a child or a person who isn't thinking clearly.
"There is no video because what you're saying never happened."
"I sent it to Marcus in cybersecurity." I turn to the crowd. "Call Marcus. He will prove I'm telling the truth."
A board member steps forward. "Marcus was fired this afternoon for trying to access company servers without permission."
The words hit me like a punch. They planned everything. They got rid of the people who could help me. They set a trap, waiting for me to walk into it.
Natasha moves closer, still recording. "It's okay, Elise. We'll get you the help you need."
"Stop recording me!" I lunge at my stepsister, but Alexander grabs my arm.
His grip looks gentle, yet he holds me firmly, making it seem like he's protecting me.
"Let's step outside for some fresh air," he whispers, trying to lead me away.
I yank my arm free. "Don't act like you care! I saw you with her! I heard everything!"
The whispers grow louder. "She's losing it," someone mutters.
"Poor woman," another voice adds.
Dad looks angry and embarrassed. "Enough, Elise. You're making a fool of yourself and hurting the company!"
Security guards suddenly appear at the edge of the crowd.
Someone called them, probably Natasha, still recording with her fake concerned look.
"I think Mrs. Westfield needs some time to calm down," one of the guards suggests, stepping forward.
I take a step back.
I can see how it looks: the frantic woman shouting accusations, surrounded by calm, worried family members.
They've set the perfect trap.
"Please listen," I beg the board members. "Check the Singapore operation. Don't let them cover this up."
"We should postpone tonight's presentation. My wife's health is the most important thing right now." Alexander’s voice is calm and steady.
The crowd murmurs in agreement. The story is already forming: the unstable heiress, the caring husband, the sad public breakdown.
"I'm not unstable!" I protest, but even I hear how shaky my voice sounds. "This is exactly what they wanted, to make me look crazy so no one would believe me!"
Natasha stands next to our father, placing a comforting arm around him. "It's okay, Dad. We'll make sure she gets help."
The security guards move closer, standing on either side of me.
Alexander raises his hands in a calm gesture. "Let's go home, darling. We can talk in private."
"There's nothing to talk about." My voice cracks. "You've won. You erased the evidence, turned everyone against me. What happens next? A sudden breakdown? Locking me away while you and Natasha take my company?"
For a split second, something flashes in Alexander's eyes. Then, just as quickly, he masks it with concern. "No one is taking anything. You just need rest."
"Liar!" I stumble backward, knocking over a table.
Glasses crash to the floor and the sharp sound cut through the chaos.
The security guards move in, gripping my arms gently but firmly.
I don't fight. What's the point? Struggling would only make me look worse.
As they lead me away, I catch a final glimpse of Alexander, Natasha, and my father standing together like the perfect picture of a worried family.
Natasha is still recording, making sure every moment of my downfall is captured.
Just before the elevator doors close, I see her turn the camera on herself and a single tear rolls down her cheek.
She's probably narrating the whole thing, selling the story of the heartbroken stepsister.
The betrayal is complete.
Public.
Perfectly planned.
And I've walked right into it!
ELISEThe simple, repetitive motion of putting one foot in front of the other. The burn in my lungs reminding me I survived when they tried to kill me.The steady thump of my heartbeat drowning out the voices in my head that whisper about failure and helplessness and the terrible price of survival.But as my body settles into the familiar rhythm of running, as my breathing deepens and my muscles warm, my mind starts to drift. And that's when the memories surface, unbidden and unwelcome, rising from the depths where I've tried so hard to bury them.The mental institution. Those sterile white walls that seemed to close in a little more each day, making the already small room feel progressively more claustrophobic.The smell of disinfectant that never quite masked the underlying scents of despair and madness, of human waste and unwashed bodies and the particular staleness coming from too many broken people confined in too small a space.The way the staff looked at me, not with compassion
ELISEHours after the press conference, rage still burns through my veins, hot and relentless.I can't sit still. Can't think straight. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. Dad's shock, Natasha's disbelief and Camila's calculating stare even in defeat with her mind already working through damage control scenarios and planning her next move.The sheer audacity of what they tried to do to me. Again.They didn't just steal my inheritance. They tried to paint me as some deranged poisoner who'd hurt a pregnant woman out of jealousy and spite.They were going to have me locked away again, probably for life this time, while they lived off my mother's money as if they had any right to it. As if they hadn't already stolen enough from me, taken enough of my life, my sanity, my very existence.My hands shake with fury, trembling so violently I have to clench them into fists to stop the tremors.The rage is consuming, threatening to burn me alive from the inside out.I need to do someth
NATASHADad's not even looking at me anymore.I can see the disappointment radiating off him in waves, and it makes me want to crawl into a hole and die.Dad's always been selfish, always put his own interests first. It's one of the reasons he neglected Elise all her life, because he couldn't risk her rising up against him one day. But he expected me to be smarter than this. He expected me to win.Instead, I handed Elise the perfect weapon to destroy us all.My legs give out and I collapse on the velvet ottoman, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.Everything hurts. My chest feels like it's being crushed in a vice.My head is pounding from crying. My throat is raw from screaming. My hands are shaking so badly I can't even wipe the tears from my face.But worse than the physical pain is the knowledge that this is all my fault.I'm the one who pushed too hard, too fast. I'm the one who got greedy and tried to destroy Elise before she could fight back. I'm the one who underestimated her
NATASHAThe sound of Dad's fist connecting with the massive TV screen makes me jump so hard I nearly fall off the couch.Glass explodes everywhere, skittering across our pristine marble floor like deadly confetti.“DAMN THAT DEVILS SPAWN!" Dad's voice cracks as he screams with his face this awful shade of purple I've never seen before.Veins bulge in his forehead, and for a terrifying second I think he might have a heart attack right here in our living room."DAMN THAT LITTLE WHORE!"He kicks at the broken glass, sending pieces flying across the room.One shard cuts his hand, but he doesn't even notice the blood dripping on our floor. He's completely lost it.But even with the TV destroyed, I can still see her face burned into my brain.Elise.Standing at that podium like she's some kind of fucking queen while destroying my entire life with every word that came out of her mouth.And worse is that the reporters hung on every word like the gospel.My hands won't stop shaking as I stare
ELISEThe room erupts into utter chaos of biting questions.Half the crowd is shouting indirect insults while the other half is shouting denials.Camera flashes intensify to a blinding degree and the sound level rises to a crescendo that threatens to drown out coherent thought.Words like, "HOW MANY MEN HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH TO GET REVENGE?" fly around.I wait, completely unmoved by the chaos surrounding me. My bodyguards shift slightly, ready to intervene if the crowd becomes physically aggressive, but I remain perfectly still at the podium.This is exactly what I wanted. Division. Confusion. The comfortable narrative they've all accepted beginning to crack under the weight of doubt.I wait for the chaos to die down before continuing."As for my father's little announcement yesterday..." I pause, and my voice carries a note of genuine amusement that's somehow more chilling than anger would be when I continue."Henry Blackwood seems to have forgotten a few crucial details about the fortu
ELISEMy bodyguards maintain their formation as I stride down the center aisle.The crowd parts before us, some reporters stumbling backward in their haste to avoid the advancing wall of muscle and menace.The auditorium is larger than it appeared from outside. Tiered seating rises toward the back, every level packed with journalists, photographers, and camera operators. The air conditioning struggles against the heat generated by so many bodies and electronic equipment, creating an oppressive atmosphere thick with anticipation and barely contained aggression.The hungry vultures seem thrown off for a beat. My composed entrance clearly not matching whatever broken, desperate woman they expected to see.I can feel their confusion ripple through the crowd like a physical force. Some lean forward in their seats, squinting as if trying to reconcile the poised figure before them with the narrative they've been fed.But predators adapt quickly. The moment of uncertainty passes, and their sen
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