Chapter 5 - The Begining Of My Revenge

Nyelle

My fingers moved quickly across my phone instead, and when I turned the screen toward him, the message was simple.

[I'll offer you anything you want. Or don't you want to trade the burner phone anymore?]

A faint smile touched his lips beneath the mask.

"You're trying to change the subject."

I held his gaze.

He watched me for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small burner phone. "This changes your voice," he said as he handed it to me. "No one will recognize you, but once you start using it, whatever happens after you're discovered becomes your problem, not mine."

If Vincent ever found out, there would be consequences.

But what did I have left to protect?

My marriage was over. My husband was preparing to marry another woman. I had just learned that I was dying, and for five years I had allowed myself to remain quiet while everyone around me decided what my life should look like.

I took the phone and handed him the money we had agreed on.

Then I walked out of the warehouse.

When I walked into the house Cassia nearly dropped her coffee.

"You..." Her eyes widened. "I thought you were kidnapped."

I walked past her and headed for the kitchen.

Vincent sat beside her, scrolling through his tablet while drinking his coffee. He glanced at me once, then returned his attention to the screen.

He didn't ask where I had been. He didn't ask how I had escaped.

Apparently, even being kidnapped wasn't enough to make my disappearance worth worrying about.

"How did you get away?" Cassia asked.

I took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and walked out of the house without answering.

By the time I arrived at the office, the news had already spread.

"President Vincent is finally marrying his first love."

"I saw the pictures. They look perfect together."

"I heard he's already married."

"Doesn't matter. Him and Cassia look better together anyway."

I kept walking.

Most of the people whispering had no idea that his wife was standing only a few feet away.

I made it to the restroom before the pressure building behind my eyes became impossible to ignore. Gripping the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

I looked exhausted and pale. When I returned to my office, the resignation letter inside my bag felt heavier than it had earlier.

For five years, I had worked beside Vincent. I had organized his schedule, handled the things no one else knew how to handle, and made myself indispensable to a company that would never know who I really was.

I had built my entire life around a man who had never asked me what I wanted.

I was done.

As I approached Vincent's office, Cassia's voice reached me through the door. "I still don't like that she's staying in the house."

"Don't worry," Vincent replied. "She'll be gone soon."

My hand tightened around the envelope. Then I opened the door and they both looked up.

Without giving either of them a chance to speak, I walked toward Vincent and placed the envelope on his desk, he opened it and his eyes moved over the contents before his gaze lifted to mine.

"You're resigning?" He asked, but I said nothing.

"Why?"

I almost laughed.

After five years of never caring what I wanted, he suddenly had questions. I turned to leave, but his hand closed around my wrist.

"You're good at your job," he said. "I'm not accepting this resignation."

The words stopped me. Not because they made me happy. Because I finally understood. Vincent could fight to keep me beside him. He simply had never wanted to keep me as his wife.

I pulled my hand from his grip.

Cassia rose from her chair. "You'll find someone else. Let her resign."

Vincent's expression hardened. "It's not easy replacing someone like her."

For five years of marriage, and the only thing about me he couldn't replace was my work.

I turned and walked out before the tears in my eyes could give either of them the satisfaction of seeing them.

The moment I stepped outside the company, I drew in a deep breath.

For years, I had buried everything I loved to become the woman everyone expected me to be—the quiet daughter, the useful employee, the obedient wife.

But if I truly had less than two years left, I wasn't going to spend them waiting for Vincent to love me.

I wanted to feel alive again.

And there was only one place I had ever truly felt that way.

On a bike.

Before my marriage, racing had been my entire world. I missed the roar of the engine beneath me, the wind against my face, and the feeling of flying down an open road with nothing ahead of me except the finish line.

My fingers hovered over a number I hadn't called in years. Then I pressed it.

Nico answered before the line had barely begun to ring.

"Nyelle?"

I switched to a video call.

His face appeared on my screen, and the shock in his expression quickly gave way to disbelief.

"Holy shit. Is that really you?"

A small smile touched my lips.

Nico had been one of the few people who never treated me differently because I couldn't speak. He had learned sign language so he could understand me, and he had never once made me feel like my silence made me less than anyone else.

I lifted my hands and signed.

"I want to race again."