I'll get my Revenge

Olivia's pov 

Three days after Kelvin signed the agreement, I left the house, finding solace in a hazy blur of silence inside Maya’s small guest room.

I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of them on my bed flashed behind my eyelids. I sat on the edge of the twin mattress, clutching my knees to my chest, letting the tears silently soak through my sweatpants.

On the third night, the door swung open, flooding the dim room with harsh hallway light. Maya stood in the doorway, her hands resting on her hips, her eyes full of painful, protective rage as she looked at my pale, hollow face.

"That is it, Olivia," Maya declared, her voice firm and unyielding. "I have watched you sit in this room, crying over those two absolute monsters for seventy-two hours straight. And I'm not letting that continue."

"Maya, please..." I choked out, wiping my damp cheeks with the back of my hand. "I just... I need time.”

"No, what you need is to breathe," Maya snapped gently, walking over and snatching my duvet off the bed. "You sacrificed your entire youth, signed a contract marriage, and took their abuse for four years. Evelyn owes you her life, and Kelvin used you like a placeholder. You are done mourning them. Get up, shower, and put on something nice. We are going out."

"I'm not in the mood for that Maya—"

"I don't care," she interrupted, pointing toward the bathroom. "You are coming with me, or I am dragging you out by your hair."

An hour later, the low, thumping bass of Majestic Lounge vibrated through the floorboards beneath my heels. The dim, neon-lit atmosphere felt surreal, like stepping into another world while my own was still burning to the ground.

As we walked past the VIP lounge area toward a table, my eyes idly drifted across the dimly lit velvet booths. In the darkest corner sat a man surrounded by absolute space, a glass of dark amber liquor resting between his long fingers.

My heart did a violent, sudden flip in my chest.

Ethan. Kelvin’s older brother.

He sat with a quiet authority, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit. As if sensing my stare, his piercing gaze shifted directly toward me. The raw, freezing intensity in his eyes felt like a physical weight pressing against my chest. 

Panic surged through my veins. I immediately snapped my head away and scurried past his section as fast as my heels could carry me.

"Whoa, slow down!" Maya said, catching my hand as we finally slid into a quiet booth near the back.

"What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... I just saw Ethan," I breathed out, my chest heaving as I looked over my shoulder nervously. "Kelvin 's older brother. He's over there in the VIP section."

Maya froze, her eyes widening slightly before a dark, calculating glint entered her expression. She slammed a shot glass down on the table and leaned in close, dropping her voice to a low whisper.

"Olivia," Maya said slowly, her eyes locking onto mine. "This is your chance. The only way you truly get back at Kelvin ... is to mess with his brother. Do the exact same thing to him."

I stared at her, my jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Maya, no! That's insane. If I do that, it makes me no different from Kelvin!"

"No different?" Maya scoffed softly, gripping my hand tightly across the table. "Kelvin cheated on you with your own sister in your own bed after you gave up your life for them! You owe him zero morality, Olivia. Besides, don't pretend you didn't have a massive crush on Ethan before you even met Kelvin. You used to blush just hearing his name."

"I can't... I can't just walk up to him," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Yes, you can," Maya insisted, pushing two shot glasses of tequila straight into my hands. "Drink. You need some courage."

The memories started slipping in quietly after each shot. They used me. They betrayed me.

By the time ten minutes had passed, my vision was swimming in a warm, hazy blur, and the suffocating weight of my grief was replaced by a reckless, liquid courage. I pushed myself up from the table, my legs swaying slightly.

"Olivia?" Maya called out softly.

"I'm doing it," I muttered, my voice thick and slurred as I turned toward the private VIP corridor.

I stumbled up the carpeted stairs toward the private suite area where I had seen Ethan heading earlier. I knocked heavily on the polished mahogany door of Suite 214, my head spinning as the door unlatched.

Ethan stood in the entryway, his suit jacket off, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked down at me, his sharp brow furrowing into a cold, irritated line as the smell of heavy alcohol rolled off me.

"Olivia?" his deep, gravelly voice echoed coldly.

"You're drunk. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for you," I stammered, taking an unsteady, swaying step into his personal space, my hands reaching out to grab his crisp linen lapels for balance. "What do you say… you and I do a little something tonight.” 

Ethan’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits, a look of unadulterated disdain crossing his sharp features. He didn't hesitate; his hands shot out, wrapping tightly around my wrists and peeling my fingers off his shirt as if I were something toxic.

"Olivia," his deep, gravelly voice echoed coldly, stripped of any warmth. "You are completely out of your mind. And you are drunk."

He shoved me backward out of the doorway, forcing me to take three quick, clumsy steps back into the dimly lit hallway.

"Ethan—" I stumbled, my heels catching on the carpet as I tried to step back inside.

"No," he cut in, placing a firm, unyielding palm against the doorframe to physically block me. "I don't know what kind of pathetic game you're playing, but get a hold of yourself and get out of here before I have security throw you onto the street."

I didn’t respond, I lunged forward again, desperation overtaking what little dignity I had left, trying to push past his massive frame into the dark suite.

Ethan grabbed my shoulders firmly, looking down at me with cold disgust. "I don't know what you are upto but you're reeking of cheap alcohol, you can barely stand, and you're acting like a hysterical mess. I'm calling that bastard for you.”

"I don't want him!" I yelled, my voice cracking in the quiet corridor as I tried to wriggle out of his grasp. "Why won't you just look at me? Am I really that useless? Am I really that revolting?!"

"Stop it," Ethan growled, his voice dropping an octave. "You're embarrassing yourself. I'm not doing this with you."

He stepped back and began to swing the heavy mahogany door shut right in my face.

Pain, humiliation, and a boiling rage surged through my blood. I shoved my hand out, blocking the door from latching, and stared at him through the narrow gap with reckless, bloodshot eyes.

"Fine!" I spat, pointing a trembling, uncertain finger down the dark corridor toward the noisy main floor. "If you won't do it... I'll go and find someone who will.”

Ethan froze mid-motion.

“Are you crazy!?” he bellowed. 

I didn't respond but before I could turn around to walk away, his hand shot out, wrapping tightly around my waist, and hauled me back into the dark room.

The heavy door slammed shut behind us with a sharp, final click.