“Do you really have to play this dirty game to take revenge on me, Demi?" her ex-husband asked at last. And Demi grinned with such seductive power. “Oh no, It’s not a game, Jeff. It’s just giving you the same doze of your own medicine.” she replied with fiery glare in her eyes. by the look on Demi's face, she was determined to take her revenge just as Jeff, her ruthless ex-husband, has said earlier. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In her hope that real love would blossom free from the shadow of her wealthy and strong family background, Demi Perez had to subtly hide her own identity from her husband, Jeff Ortega. And for the past five years of marriage, all that she ever did was pour all that she has to offer into their marriage, only to be met with cold indifference—and divorce papers that would end things between them. With Demi’s beauty and brains along with her wealth, she had completely conquered the corporate world and made some great impressions everywhere she went, and that includes dominating the failing company of her ex-husband. And in just a year after her divorce, Demi came back powerful and famous. No longer was she the once naive ex-wife that Jeff left behind, because right now, Demi has once again reclaimed her status as the elite and powerful heiress of the Perez clan. But as their old flames rekindle, Jeff wasn’t sure if he still wanted retribution or if he wanted her back. While Demi, on the other hand, has to decide whether she would finish what she started, or risk her heart all over again.
ดูเพิ่มเติม(Demi’s POV)
The divorce papers were glaring back at me from the mahogany table like some sort of a nasty reminder of my shortcomings as housewife. My trembling fingers brushed over the ink where my husband, Jeff Ortega’s, signature glared at me, bold and resolute.
His decision was final, and it was unyielding just as the man himself.
However, Jeff was standing in front of the window even as I turn and witnessed how the soft afternoon light shining on his erect figure. His eyes were as cold and far away as before, and his sharp facial features were etched with resolve. The distance between us was heightened by his coldness, even with his back facing my direction.
“I’ve already signed the papers. You should hurry and sign them too,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. “I want everything finalized before Stella returns.”
Stella. The name cut through me like a blade. My throat tightened as I fought back tears.
Jeff didn’t even glance in my direction. “We’ve agreed on the partition of assets before marriage, so there shouldn’t be any disputes. But I’ll compensate you with fifty million dollars and a house near the border. My father…” He hesitated for a moment, then continued, “He would expect me to offer you something substantial.”
“Does… does your dad know you’re divorcing me?” My voice cracked as I finally forced the words out.
Jeff’s laugh was humorless. “Does it matter? Do you think if he knew it would change anything?”
The weight of his words pressed down on my chest. My grip on the table tightened as I tried to steady myself. “Jeff,” I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “Can we not get a divorce?”
At that, he spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve had enough, Demi! Every second of this marriage has been torture. A loveless, miserable relationship—that’s all you’ve given me.”
His words tore through the weak hope I had held onto for so long like a mallet. Even though tears were streaming down my cheeks, I resisted showing him how helpless I was.
“It was a mistake from the start,” he continued. “You knew I loved someone else, yet you agreed to this charade. Now that the five-year agreement is over and Stella is returning, it’s time for you to step aside give her the position of being my wife where it truly belongs.”
Step aside. He was quick to address me that way as though my feelings, sacrifices, and my existence were nothing to him at all. At this point, all that I wanted was to cry out loud, to demand that he acknowledge everything I’d endured for years. But Instead, I could only afford to lower my head as my tears continued to soak the divorce papers lying beneath me.
And then, Jeff’s phone buzzed, cutting through the suffocating silence between us. His behavior quickly changed and it shifted immediately into someone completely different as he answered the call.
“Hello, Stella,” he said softly, his voice dripping with warmth that I had never heard directed at me. “What?! You’re already at the airport? I thought your flight is scheduled tomorrow evening? Alright. I’ll pick you up right now then. Wait for me.”
Without another glance in my direction, he strode out of the room, leaving me with the papers and the shards of my broken heart.
***
I watched that evening from the sideline while everyone seemed too busy especially as Jeff entered the manor cuddling Stella in his arms. The joy of the workers filled the house, and I couldn't help but feel out of place in my own house.
My heart ached at the sound of Stella's laughter that filled the corridors of the manor. "Jeff, do you think all of this seems off? I mean, Demi might hate me for this.”
With a disdainful tone, he reassured her, "Oh, no worries. She won't. This marriage was never real to begin with. She knows her place.”
The words made my chest hurt even more. Even though I had given him everything, he still only saw me as a duty he must fulfill as part of the marriage arrangement.
And for that reason, I made up my mind later that night. I packed a little suitcase and sneaked out of the house without a word. Without looking back, I quickly hopped into the black Porsche waiting outside the gates. As I got inside, I instantly felt my heart tensed.
There, I was met with a worried smile by my childhood friend, Brent, who was handling the wheels.
"Hey Demi, are you certain about this? There’s no turning back once I move the car.” He inquired quietly.
Even though my hands were shaking, I nodded and spoke firmly. “Yes. Just go. I can’t stay in this place for another moment longer.”
***
The sound of the engine had drowned out my racing thoughts especially as Brent's car sped through the streets. In spite of the excruciating pain I was feeling deep within my chest, It would seem like I felt free for the first time in so many years.
“Where to?” Brent asked gently, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror.
I hesitated. “Anywhere but here.”
He understood and nodded. I had known Brent in the past, and he had always had faith in me. He hadn't thought twice about helping me when I had called him earlier, feeling hopeless and broken.
"You know that you deserve more than this." He whispered beside me.
Although I wasn't entirely sure I believed what he was meant with those words, I simply let it sink in. After everything, my heart still ached for Jeff. but despite this, I simply just couldn't get risk pushing myself to be with someone who only saw me as a hindrance to his happiness.
Brent dropped me off at the Imperial Hotel, far from the prying eyes of the Ortega family. Compared to the stuffy atmosphere of the Blue Manor, the air was clear and fresh.
"Just feel free to stay as long as you want to," Brent said, maintaining a steady gaze at my face that it makes me awkward for some reason. “Demi, you always underestimate how strong you are. Also, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. I silently promised myself something as soon as I entered the villa. Without Jeff Ortega, my life would be rebuilt piece by piece. A ray of hope appeared in my life for the first time in years.
The hotel turned into a haven for me, a healing space. Brent came back after parking his car, his presence a comforting reminder that not everyone in my life had abandoned me.
"You're doing better than I anticipated," he said in a playful tone.
With a tiny smile tugging at my lips, I answered, "I have to. For myself."
However, a part of me continued to yearn for the man who had broken my heart even as I moved on. Jeff Ortega might have discarded me, but he would never truly be gone from my thoughts.
The crisp night air brushed against my skin as Brent guided me onto the elevator. He had demanded this surprise in the hopes that it would cheer me up. The building was surrounded by glistening city lights.
I questioned in frustration, "Brent, what are you trying to show?"
He leaned against the railing and grinned. He looked at his watch and said, "My secretary planned this. Fireworks start in...three, two, one."
The night sky was painted with purple fireworks as a loud boom filled the air. Below us, couples gathered on the balcony, their faces beaming with joy. I grinned in spite of myself.
"Your secretary has terrible taste," I shook my head.
Brent chuckled. "Better than his past attempts. And there’s more. Gifts from everyone are waiting in your room. You’re loved, Demi. It’s time to focus on the people who truly deserve your love."
His words brought a lump to my throat. I turned away, blinking back tears.
The safehouse in Malta smelled like salt and antiseptic. Jeff’s wound had reopened during extraction, staining the bandages a dark, ugly red. He lay on the narrow bed, jaw clenched against the pain as I pressed fresh gauze to his side."Stop fussing," he muttered, but his hand found mine, fingers threading through my bloodstained ones."You idiot," I whispered. "You should have stayed in Tunis."His thumb brushed my knuckles. "And miss all the fun?"I didn’t laugh. Couldn’t. Not when the drive in my pocket felt like a live grenade. Not when every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father’s skull shatter.Jeff’s grip tightened. "Demi."I shook my head, focusing on rewrapping his bandages. If I spoke now, I’d shatter.He didn’t let me pull away. With a pained grunt, he sat up, ignoring my protest, and cupped my face. His palm was warm, rough with calluses."Look at me."I did.His blue eyes were steady, the way they always were in the middle of a storm. "We’ll burn it all down. Every last
The clone's scream echoed off concrete walls as strobe lights erupted through the darkness.I dropped into a combat crouch, rifle sweeping the blackness—until a boot connected with my ribs. The impact sent me skidding across the interrogation room floor. My NVGs shattered against the wall.Naz's voice cut through the chaos: "Ambush! They knew we—"Gunfire drowned her out.The clone—the other me—thrashed against her restraints. "They're coming!" Blood dripped from her split lip. "The real trap is in sublevel five!"I lunged for her restraints. "Who are you?"Her fingers locked around my wrist with terrifying strength. "I'm what happens when you fail."The door exploded inward.White smoke. Strobing muzzle flashes.I rolled left as bullets chewed through the chair where I'd just been standing. The clone took two rounds to the chest before her restraints snapped. She collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.Naz dragged me behind an overturned exam table. "We need to move!"I grabbed
The crunch of gravel behind me sent my finger to the trigger before my brain caught up. I whirled, pistol raised—"Easy, Perez." Naz stepped into the moonlight, hands raised. Blood streaked her tactical vest. "Aisha's contained. Jeff's secure at a blacksite clinic."I didn't lower the gun. "You followed me.""You left a blood trail even a rookie could track." Her eyes flicked to Julian's body, then back to me. "We need to move. That video was—""A trap. Obviously." My voice sounded hollow. The phone weighed like a brick in my other hand. "How long have you known?"Naz hesitated a second too long.The shot grazed her shoulder before she could answer. She staggered into a column with a curse. "What the fuck, Demi!""You knew my father was alive." I advanced, gun steady despite the tremor in my breath. "All this time. While we hunted Julian. While Jeff bled out. You knew."Pain twisted her features—not just from the wound. "I found out three days ago. The same files that exposed Julian's
Blood. Too much blood.Jeff’s weight sagged against me as we crashed through the lemon groves, his breath coming in ragged bursts against my neck. The coppery scent filled my nostrils, mixing with the salt air from the cliffs below."Almost there," I lied, adjusting my grip around his waist. His tuxedo jacket was soaked through, the fabric sticky against my palm.He coughed—a wet, guttural sound that made my stomach clench. "Should've... taken the shot...""Don’t you fucking dare." My voice cracked. Ahead, a crumbling stone shed emerged from the darkness—Naz’s rendezvous point.The door burst open before we reached it. Naz stood silhouetted against the glow of a dozen screens, her usually immaculate braids falling loose around her face. "Jesus Christ—""Pressure. Now." I lowered Jeff onto the makeshift med cot, my hands trembling as I ripped his shirt open. The bullet had torn through his left side, just below the vest line. Dark blood pulsed with each shallow breath.Naz slapped a tr
Naz’s safe house smelled like stale coffee and gunpowder. The blue glow of her laptop screen painted sharp angles across her face as she pulled up satellite images of Sicily.“Julian’s not hiding,” she said, zooming in on a sprawling estate near Palermo. “He’s hosting a private auction. Buyers from six continents. All here for one thing.”I leaned over her shoulder. “The drive.”Jeff’s knuckles whitened around his coffee cup. “He’s selling Consortium access.”“Worse.” Naz tapped a key. A list of names flashed on screen—oil magnates, arms dealers, a deposed dictator. “He’s selling legitimacy. Your name, your protocols, your global aid routes. Just repackaged for weapons trafficking and blood diamonds.”The room tilted. I gripped the table. All those years of work, all those borders we’d crossed to get aid where it was needed—reduced to a fucking menu for war profiteers.Jeff’s hand found the small of my back. Steadying. “When?”“Tomorrow night.” Naz hesitated. “There’s more. He’s got a
The stolen motorcycle screamed through the Atlas Mountains, Jeff’s body a solid wall against my back. The drive to Casablanca would take six hours if we pushed it. Six hours before we could ditch the bike, before we could breathe.Julian had the drive. But he didn’t know we’d made copies.The wind tore at my clothes as I leaned into a turn, the tires skimming the edge of a cliff. Jeff’s arms tightened around my waist.“Still got eyes on our tail?” His voice was a vibration against my spine, transmitted through the comm unit pressed between us.I flicked a glance at the side mirror. Two black SUVs, holding steady half a kilometer back.“Yeah,” I muttered. “They’re herding us.”Julian’s men weren’t trying to overtake us. They were waiting—for us to tire, to make a mistake.Jeff’s breath was hot on my neck. “Next bend—go off-road.”I didn’t hesitate. When the curve came, I wrenched the handlebars left. The bike lurched onto a goat path, stones spraying as we carved through the scrubland.
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