There's no time for second chances with a guy who humiliated and took everything from you. Instead, just date his uncle. Cassie was in love. She would do anything for Trent, burn the whole world if she had to. But how did he repay her, he cheated on her with her sister. Trent sent her to rock bottom, ruined her image, and when he was done, he divorced her. After his betrayal, Cassie has to start from the ground up. She wants revenge, and when she meets her prince charming, they form an unstoppable team. Will their joint quest for revenge lead to a promising romance?
View MorePART 1- A NEW KIND OF LIFE
"We're all so excited! Congratulations Miss Cassidy!" The office was bubbling with joy. Laughter bounced off the glass walls, voices rose in triumph. They had just secured an acquisition deal so rare that even the largest corporations often failed to land it. "I think this calls for celebration, someone pop open a bottle of champagne!" Cassie smiled, but her mind was elsewhere. She slipped away from the noise, phone in hand, eager to share the victory with the one person who mattered most—her husband, Trent. She dialed his number. Once. Twice. Again. Straight to voicemail. “Miss Cassidy, aren’t you coming back in? The shareholders are asking for you,” Daria, her secretary, peeked her head out of the door. “Something important just came up,” Cassie said, forcing a smile. “Enjoy the celebration.” The only thing on her mind was going home to the love of her life. Her heart was racing. She only wanted to see Trent. He had to know what she had pulled off—this was the crown jewel, the greatest investment in his company’s history. The elevator hummed down to the underground lot. Soon, she was in her car, driving fast, a giddy grin tugging at her lips. When she reached home, Cassie’s excitement spilled over. She raced upstairs, her heels clicking against the polished floor, her laughter echoing in the wide halls. Another thing that excited her was the thought of having alone time with him. His parents were in Paris for their regular yearly holiday. Alone at last, with no in-laws under the same roof, she and Trent could rediscover each other. It had been a while since they were intimate. He barely even touched her. Trent always had excuses. Most times he'd say that his parents would hear them and she was always understanding. Cassie ran upstairs, squealing like a little girl. Trent needed to know what she had pulled off. She burst into their bedroom with a bright, “Trent!” And then— Her world shattered. Trent’s body hovered over another woman. The moans filled the room, ugly and raw. Cassie froze, her mouth dry, her breath breaking. “Trent?” Her voice cracked as she whispered to herself. He shifted, and the woman’s face came into view. “Misty?” Cassie staggered back. Her sister. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a cruel dream. Her husband, was on another woman? Her breath hitched and she tried to steady it. The moaning sounds got more intense by the second. Still in shock, she screamed out his name. "Trent?" Cassie gapped for air. This was a prank. Trent would never do this to her, he would never cheat on her. And with her sister? It was impossible. "Cassie, if you're not going to join us, then leave. Close the fucking door on your way out!" he shouted. Her whole body shook violently. He didn't even try to deny it. He wasn't even sorry, Trent just continued thrusting, acting as if his wife didn't just walk in on him. Her knees buckled. Her chest caved in. The man she had loved, trusted, built her world around—he wasn’t even sorry. And Misty… her own blood…she had no shame. Cassie stumbled back, tears streaming, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. She ran. Down the stairs, into her car, out onto the road. Her sobs choked her. Cassidy was in immense pain. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "It's all a dream!" That's what she kept telling herself as she got back into her car. Cassie raced to her best friend's house. This wasn't real. She and Trent had been married for three years, three whole years. Cassie's tears blurred her vision further as she sped down the highway. The image was seared into her mind, over and over again. She punched into her dashboard, "No, no! It's not true," as if pain could wake her from the nightmare. As she drove, her sobs grew louder, and her grip on the steering wheel loosened. Suddenly, her hands slipped, and the wheel spun out of control. The car moved sharply to the right, and Cassie's heart sank. She tried to correct the wheel, but it was too late. The car swerved, metal screeched against the guardrail. The airbag deployed with a loud thud. Cassie's head snapped forward, and she felt a jolt of pain. A deafening bang. Darkness. ... Cassie opened her eyes to blinding white light. Pain tore through her chest and head. She was in a hospital. She woke up, dazed and disoriented. Her eyes, wincing as the bright hospital lights pierced through her brain. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her head and chest, forcing her back onto the pillow. As she looked around, she saw Cora, her best friend, sitting beside her hospital bed. Cora's eyes were red-rimmed. It looked like she hadn't gotten enough sleep. "Cassie, oh my god, I was so scared," Cora said. Her voice was trembling. "I've been here, waiting for you to wake up." Cassie tried to speak, but her throat was dry and sore. Cora quickly grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and helped Cassie take a sip. "What...what happened?" Cassie asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were in a car accident," Cora replied gently. "You lost control of the wheel and crashed. The police said you were lucky to be alive." "Trent! Where's Trent? How long have I been here?" "Three days," Cora said, "The nurses tried getting in touch with your husband but he was too busy to come." "That's not right. That can't be right!" She muttered under her breath. She was still in denial. "Where's my phone? Call him, call him now! I want to see my husband!" Cora tried to calm her down, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Cassie, baby, please..." But Cassie shook her off, "I don't care about your 'please'! I want to see him now!" Cassie yanked the IV fluid out of her hand, completely ignoring Cora. "I'm going to find him myself!" she screamed, throwing off the hospital blanket and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Cora rushed to grab Cassie, trying to hold her back. "Cassie, stop! You can't just get out of bed like that!" Cassie broke down immediately and started crying. Cora quickly wrapped her arms around her, holding her close as she sobbed. The nurse, who had been watching from the doorway, stepped forward, voice soft as a lullaby. "let's get you back into bed, okay?" she said gently, helping Cora guide Cassie back to the hospital bed. As Cassie settled back into the bed, the nurse had this pitiful look on her face. "I think we need to calm down a bit, don't you?" she said, adjusting Cassie's pillows. Just then, the nurse's expression changed, and she said, "Actually, I have something for you. Your husband just called, and someone dropped off a package for you." Cassie's tears slowed, and she looked up at the nurse. "For me? What is it?" she asked. The nurse held up a plain brown envelope. "This was dropped off at the front desk. It's addressed to you." Her shaking hands tore it open, slowly. Cassie stared at the papers before her. There was no way! For a moment, her heart ceased. Her chest hollowed. Divorce papers. On her hospital bed. From the man she thought was her forever.The night Harris confronted Ross began with rain — sharp, slanting drops slicing through the city skyline, making the glass towers bleed gold and blue. The roof of Silverwood Holdings’ headquarters glistened like obsidian under the storm.Harris stood there, one hand on his cane, the other gripping the envelope Randall had left behind. Inside were documents — bank records, transfer codes, blackmail notes. The truth. The evidence that Silverwood’s empire had been built, and rebuilt, on lies.Ross stepped out from the elevator, trench coat flapping against the wind. The rooftop doors shut behind him with a hiss.“You’re early,” Ross said, voice calm. Too calm.Harris turned. “I wanted to hear it from you.”Ross smiled thinly. “And what did dear Randall tell you this time?”“That you killed him,” Harris said. His knuckles whitened around the envelope. “That you buried the truth under shell companies and blood. You were laundering money through the Silverwood trust.”Ross walked closer, h
Payne’s breathing had turned shallow. He pushed himself up from the chair, clutching his chest. “Cassie—please… she didn’t mean it…”Cassie turned away sharply. “You people disgust me.”And that was when Payne’s chair screeched back.He gasped. A sharp sound, small and strange — like air escaping from a balloon. His hand clutched his blazer where his heart should be.“Payne?” Bridget’s voice cracked. “Payne!”He tried to speak — only a strangled noise came out — then collapsed forward, smashing his glass on the table before hitting the floor.“Call an ambulance!” Bridget screamed, falling to her knees beside him.Cassie froze, eyes wide. Arden fumbled for his phone, dialing emergency as Bridget pressed her trembling hands to her husband’s chest.“Payne! Payne, stay with me—please!”---The wail of sirens filled the street ten minutes later.Neighbors gathered at the gate, whispering. The once-proud Murphy estate flickered under the ambulance lights like a house of ghosts.Bridget rode
Inside, the Murphys sat frozen — the remnants of their old world bleeding across the table.“You see?” Cassie said softly, dabbing the dark stain on her wrist with the edge of a napkin, her voice trembling but laced with venom. “They really are finished.”The room was dead silent except for the clinking of her bracelet as she reached for her wineglass again.Cassie sat back with her eyes darting between the Murphys as if expecting the walls to collapse next.Bridget stared blankly at the spot where the knife had landed. It lay near her shoe — still, gleaming faintly under the chandelier’s dull light. For years, that chandelier had hung over lavish dinners, laughter, and empty toasts. Tonight, it flickered, unsteady, throwing jagged shadows across her face.“Cassie, please,” Payne said, his voice hoarse, almost breaking. “She’s not herself. You can’t hold this against—”Cassie slammed her glass onto the table. “She tried to stab me, Payne! You think I’m going to smile and sip dessert w
The night Trent broke the internet began like any other storm — silent at first, then violent beyond reason.At 8:02 p.m., the live notification popped up on every phone that had ever cared about the Silverwoods, the Murphys, or the gossip that bled between them. Trent Silverwood is live. Millions clicked before they could stop themselves. The golden boy of Silverwood Empire, the one who’d stood beside Misty Murphy through every headline, appeared on screen — sharp-suited, eyes glassy, voice trembling not from nerves but from exhaustion.The restaurant lights glowed behind him, the chatter of guests dying as people realized what was happening.“I don’t even know how to start this,” Trent said. His voice was rough. “But I guess honesty’s overdue.”Misty was at home, robe tied too tight, glass of wine untouched on the coffee table. Her phone vibrated nonstop as the comments rolled across the screen — emojis, hearts, question marks, knives. She’d painted her nails two hours earlier to c
The back door opened soundlessly.Ross Silverwood stepped in, the smell of gun oil clinging to him beneath a layer of rain and pine. His shoes left faint prints on the marble — smudges that would be gone before anyone noticed.The house was alive with movement. Voices overlapped — hushed, rehearsed, brittle with control. The kind of noise that filled silence when everyone was trying not to think.From the grand foyer came the faint echo of glassware, makeup brushes tapping, and the hum of the lighting rigs. A production team was setting up in the drawing room — the “Silverwood rebirth” announcement that had been planned for weeks.Ross paused in the hallway. Through the half-open door to the east wing, he could hear Trent’s voice — sharp, defensive.“I told them the lighting needs to hit from the left, not the right. We’re not doing this again.”No one answered him. Just the shuffle of cables.Ross removed his gloves and slipped them into the pocket of his coat. His shirt sleeve was s
The morning began like any other in the Randall household.Sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the bedroom wall. His wife was already downstairs, the faint sound of sizzling eggs and clinking plates drifting through the air.Randall groaned softly as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The smell of coffee was his cue — strong, black, just how he liked it.In the hallway, his teenage son argued about missing sneakers while his tween daughter hummed to a pop song, swinging her backpack over one shoulder. His wife called from the kitchen, “Breakfast’s ready! And please, no arguments before eight!”Randall smiled faintly, straightening his tie in the mirror. Another day, another case. The life of an attorney never slowed — not even when you worked for the Silverwoods.He kissed his wife on the cheek, promised to be home early, and stepped out into the quiet suburban street. The air was crisp, still damp from dawn.He unlocked his car, slid into the dri
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