Chapter 5 - The Begining Of My Revenge

Nyelle

His words left me slightly shaken, but I refused to let it show on my face. The masked man stood directly in front of me with his arms folded across his chest while his sharp eyes studied me carefully, almost like he was trying to figure out whether I was brave or simply losing my mind. Maybe it was both. After everything that had happened in just one night, I honestly wasn't sure anymore.

Still, I forced my trembling fingers to move across my phone quickly before turning the screen toward him. "I'll offer you anything you want. Or don't you want to trade the burner phone anymore?"

The corner of his lips lifted slightly beneath the mask, amused by my boldness. "You're trying to change the topic," he said calmly while stepping closer. "Alright, fine. But once you start this, there's no going back. Anything that happens after you're found out becomes your problem to handle, not mine."

I swallowed hard. For a brief second fear crawled into my chest, because he was right. If Vincent ever discovered this, things would become ugly very fast. Vincent hated betrayal more than anything, which was ironic considering the fact that he had spent five years betraying me emotionally without blinking once. But honestly, what exactly did I still have left to lose? I slowly nodded.

The masked man stared at me for another moment before finally reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small burner phone. "This changes your voice," he explained while handing it over to me. "No one will recognize you." I collected it carefully before handing him the money we agreed on. The moment the deal was complete, I turned and left the warehouse with a small smirk resting on my lips for the first time in a very long while. If life wanted to keep hurting me, maybe it was finally time I stopped sitting quietly and started hurting people back.

The next morning, the moment I walked downstairs, Cassia almost choked on the coffee she was drinking, her eyes widening dramatically like she had just seen a ghost. "You…" she whispered in shock. "I thought you were kidnapped." I ignored her completely and continued walking toward the dining area calmly. Vincent was sitting beside her scrolling through something on his tablet while drinking coffee like nothing had happened, like his wife disappearing the entire night wasn't worth worrying about. Not once did he ask if I was alright, or how I escaped, and he didn't even look remotely concerned. Honestly, I wasn't even disappointed anymore. You couldn't keep expecting warmth from someone made entirely of ice.

Cassia kept staring at me suspiciously while I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "How did you even escape?" she asked again carefully. I didn't answer. I simply walked past both of them and left the house quietly, and behind me I could practically feel her frustration burning holes through my back.

The moment I arrived at the office, whispers immediately filled the atmosphere. "They're saying President Vincent is finally getting married to his first love." "Oh my God, I saw the pictures online yesterday. They look perfect together." "I heard he's already married though." "Who cares? Him and Cassia honestly look better together." The words hit harder than I expected, and my chest tightened painfully while I stood there pretending not to hear anything. Most people didn't even know I existed as his wife. I quickly walked toward the restroom before the tears gathering in my eyes could embarrass me publicly.

The second the bathroom door closed behind me, I gripped the sink tightly while staring at my reflection in the mirror, my swollen eyes, pale skin, and trembling lips making me look like someone barely holding herself together. Maybe because I was.

I walked back toward my office slowly, the resignation letter inside my bag suddenly feeling heavier than before. For years, this company had been my entire life. I worked endlessly beside Vincent hoping maybe one day he would finally acknowledge me properly. What a joke.

I stood outside his office door, my heart racing, and the soft sound of their voices pulled me from my thoughts. "I still don't like that she's staying in the house," Cassia's irritated voice complained. "Don't worry," Vincent answered calmly. "She'll be gone soon." My fingers dug into my palms in anger, and I pushed the office door open immediately.

Both of them looked up at the same time. Cassia straightened awkwardly while Vincent's brows furrowed slightly the second he noticed me holding papers. Without saying anything I walked directly toward him and handed him the envelope. He opened it casually at first, but the moment his eyes scanned the contents his expression changed completely. "What's this?" he asked sharply while looking back up at me. "You're resigning?" I simply stared at him silently. "Why?" he demanded immediately.

The irony almost made me laugh bitterly. Now he suddenly wanted answers, after five years of emotional torture? I turned to leave, but Vincent suddenly grabbed my wrist tightly. "You're good at your job," he snapped impatiently. "There's no way I'm accepting this resignation." The warmth of his hand against my skin felt suffocating instead of comforting, and for one dangerous second I genuinely wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream at him, wanted to ask why he suddenly cared now when he spent years treating me like furniture. But instead I simply pulled my hand away forcefully.

Cassia immediately stood from her chair, glaring at me with barely hidden irritation. "You'll find someone else," she said quickly while crossing her arms. "Let her resign. It's better this way anyway." Vincent's jaw tightened visibly. "It's not easy replacing someone like her," he replied coldly without taking his eyes off me. "I'm not accepting this. She can't resign." The words should have made me happy. Instead they only hurt more, because for the first time in years Vincent was finally fighting for me, just not as his wife, but as his employee.

I forced myself to keep walking before the tears in my eyes could fall. The moment I stepped outside the company building, fresh air filled my lungs deeply. For years I buried every dream I ever had just to become the perfect silent wife standing behind Vincent. But now? Now I was done.

If I was truly dying, then I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing something that once made me feel alive. Biking. God, I missed it so much, the speed, the adrenaline, the freedom. Before marriage, racing bikes had been my entire world, and back then I wasn't the mute unwanted daughter people pitied, I was fearless, and I felt alive. And maybe before I died, I wanted to feel that version of myself again.

My fingers immediately dialed a number I hadn't called in years. Nico. The line barely rang once before he answered immediately. "Nyelle?" His voice sounded shocked and breathless. "Holy shit, is that really you?" A painful smile touched my lips slightly. Nico had always been one of the few people who never treated me differently because I couldn't speak, and in fact he had learned sign language just for me. I quickly switched to video call before raising my trembling hands slowly. "I want to race again."