LOGINRevenge is a dish best served cold... and Sarah Bennett has been freezing for two years. Sarah Bennett had the perfect life: a wealthy husband, a booming business, and a baby on the way. She also had a secret: her husband and her best friend were having an affair. And they had a plan to steal her forty-million-dollar empire, her fortune, and after she gave birth… to get rid of her. So Sarah decided to beat them to it. She decided to die first. Faking her death was only the beginning. For eighteen months, "Emma Hayes" built a new life while documenting their crimes. Now she's back inside her own company, ready to destroy the world they built on her grave. As Sarah reclaims her throne, her cold revenge ignites a war with a more powerful enemy hiding in the shadows: The man who wanted her dead won’t settle for being her employee. The friend who stole her life won’t accept being erased. And the powerful new enemy she unknowingly crossed has a simple philosophy what he can’t own, he destroys. But when you've already come back from the dead, what's left to lose?
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Sarah
The rain was fucking relentless that night.
I remember gripping the steering wheel of my Range Rover, squinting through the windshield as sheets of water hammered against the glass. The highway was a goddamn nightmare, cars crawling at twenty miles per hour, I couldn't see shit, and my phone wouldn't stop buzzing with messages I didn't want to see.
Marcus had texted me seventeen times.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"You're late for dinner with James and Victoria."
"Don't embarrass me again, Sarah."
The last one made me grip the wheel harder. Embarrass him. As if showing up late to a dinner party was the same as him staying out until 3 AM on "business calls" that ended with lipstick on his collar and the smell of Chanel No. 5 that I definitely didn't wear.
I was pregnant. Six months pregnant with our first child, and my husband was having an affair.
I'd known for two weeks. I'd found the texts on his iPad when I was looking for flight information. Texts between Marcus and Victoria—my best friend since college, the woman who'd helped me build my interior design business from nothing, the woman I'd trusted with my fucking life.
"Can't wait to feel you inside me again," Victoria had written.
"Your husband is fucking oblivious," Marcus had responded.
I'd read those messages in my bathroom while sitting on the toilet at three in the morning, and something inside me had broken like a bone snapping clean.
I sat on the bathroom floor that night, my back against the cold tile, and I'd called Victoria.
"Hey," she'd answered, her voice thick with sleep. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?"
I'd swallowed hard, staring at the damning words on the screen. "I just... I had a weird dream. That Marcus was being unfaithful. It felt so real."
There was a beat of silence on the line, Then her laugh. "Sarah, you're hormonal and paranoid. Marcus adores you. He's just stressed with the new investors. Go back to sleep."
"You're right," I'd whispered. "Sorry for waking you."
"Always here for you," she'd said. The last words my best friend ever said to me.
I made a plan that night. A plan that would change everything.
I couldn't confront him. Couldn't divorce him. Because Marcus was rich, like generationally wealthy and his lawyers would bury me. He'd take the business I'd built from nothing, take my child, take everything, and I'd end up with a studio apartment and partial custody of a baby I couldn't afford to raise.
But if he thought I was dead?
Everything changed.
So I'd done something insane. I'd hired a fixer a woman named Diane who knew how to disappear people and we'd planned the perfect accident. A car crash at night, on a rainy stretch of the highway where accidents happened constantly. A body that couldn't be identified immediately. A narrative that was absolutely fucking perfect.
The car I was driving wasn't mine. It was a rental in a false name, identical to my Range Rover. The mannequin in the driver's seat professionally built to my size, dressed in my clothes, wearing my jewelry would be burnt beyond recognition when the fire trucks arrived.
I was supposed to be found in that wreckage tomorrow morning.
But I was going to be very much alive.
The other car hit me doing sixty miles per hour.
I'd coordinated the timing perfectly, a semi-truck that Diane had arranged, driven by a man who knew exactly what he was doing. The impact sent my car spinning across three lanes, and I felt the rush of adrenaline.
The airbag deployed. I disconnected my seatbelt. The car doors unlocked automatically.
And I ran.
I ran through the rain, away from the wreckage, away from the semi-truck that was screeching to a halt. I ran toward the dark stretch of shoulder where a black sedan was waiting, engine running, lights off.
I threw myself into the passenger seat, and Diane stepped on the gas without saying a word.
In the rearview mirror, I could see emergency lights starting to flash on the horizon. The ambulances were coming. The fire trucks were coming, and by the time they arrived, they'd find my car a burning, twisted heap of metal. They'd find the mannequin burned beyond recognition. And they'd find my identification in the wreckage.
They'd think I was dead.
And Marcus would think he was finally free.
Silas CrowleyMy phone vibrated on the desk just after nine in the morning.I picked it up expecting another update from the Miami team. Instead, it was a message from Margaret, my lawyer.“Mr. Crowley, Sarah Bennett’s legal team has formally served notice to sever the partnership agreement. They state that all outstanding debt owed by Bennett & Associates to Crowley Holdings will be paid in full within sixty days. They are requesting immediate dissolution of the partnership and removal of all Crowley Holdings influence from company operations, we need to discuss.”I felt anger after reading it, so she was really doing it.After everything...after the nights we had shared, after I had started to believe she was beginning to trust me, she was trying to cut me out completely.I dialed Margaret immediately.“Explain,” I said the moment she answered.“Good morning, Mr. Crowley,” she replied.“They’re citing ‘misalignment’ and ‘irreconcilable differences in vision’ as the basis f
SarahThe next morning, Diane came to the office with me.We had stayed up late the night before, talking through every detail, weighing every risk, and finally agreeing on a plan. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the only move we had left. Diane insisted on being there when I made the announcement. She said I shouldn’t have to face it alone.By the time we arrived, the office was already buzzing with the usual morning energy. Designers were at their desks, marketing was on calls, and the familiar rhythm of Bennett & Associates filled the air. I kept my expression calm and professional as we walked through the open-plan floor, even though my stomach was in knots.Diane and I exchanged one quiet look before I asked my assistant to gather everyone in the main conference room for an urgent all-hands meeting.Within ten minutes, the room was full. Employees filed in with curious faces, whispering among themselves. Victoria was already seated near the front, wearing a triumphant littl
SarahThe next morning, I woke up before the sun.My eyes were swollen from crying the night before, but I forced myself out of bed anyway. Alexander didn’t care about my heartbreak. He needed his mother to be there, even when everything felt like it was falling apart.I walked quietly into his room. He was already awake, standing in his crib, holding the bars with his tiny hands and bouncing excitedly when he saw me.“Mama!” he squealed, reaching both arms up.The sound of his voice melted something inside my chest. I lifted him out of the crib and held him close, breathing in his sweet baby smell...baby powder, milk, and that special scent that only he had.“Good morning, my love,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his soft dark hair.Alexander giggled and patted my cheek with his chubby little hand. “Mama pretty.”I smiled despite everything. “Thank you, baby.”I carried him to the changing table, changed his diaper, and dressed him in his favorite blue onesie with li
CrowleyI stood alone in the private dining room long after Sarah had stormed out, the echo of her words still ringing in my ears. Fuck!! this was not how tonight was supposed to end. I had planned a different evening one where Sarah would finally lower her walls and the tension between us would finally snap, where I could show her that what we had was real. Instead, Marcus had thrown a bomb into the middle of it.How the fuck did he know about Alexander?The question burned in my mind. I had never told him or even hinted at the child’s existence. I had been keeping Marcus close, playing along with his desperate offers of information, feeding him just enough rope to hang himself with. But this? This was something else entirely.I felt genuine confusion mixed with fury. Of course Sarah thought I had betrayed her, she believed I was working with Marcus and using her son as what?. The pain in her eyes when she looked at me had been real, and it hurt deeper than I expected. I h
VictoriaSarah called an emergency meeting at 7 AM.Everyone knew something was wrong the moment she walked into the conference room. Her face was cold as ice, her eyes were full of dark anger. Her whole body gave off so much rage that the room felt colder.Marcus and I looked at each other
SarahThe email arrived at 11:47 PM.I was in my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark, when my phone buzzed. I didn't need to see the sender to know who it was from.Silas Crowley.I stared at my phone for a long time without opening the email. My hands were calm, but my hea
VictoriaI couldn't breathe.That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up on the third Monday of working at Bennett & Associates. The air felt too thick and my chest felt too tight. I lay in bed in Marcus's apartment, our apartment, though I was starting to think of it as his and I stared
Victoria"Then we run," I said. "We get money from somewhere and we run.""With what money?" Marcus asked. His voice was rising. He looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Sarah has my salary cut at seventy percent. I'm making nothing. You're in the same situation." He grabbed the
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