Revenge Born of Betrayal

“That child isn’t mine. So you don’t need to be jealous of that bastard.”

The words rang out clearly.

Cold. Without hesitation.

And in a single second, Aurora Blackwood’s world shattered.

She stopped right in front of the guest room door.

Her body was still weak after giving birth, but it wasn’t the pain that froze her in place.

It was that voice.

A voice she knew all too well.

Her husband’s voice.

Dante.

Aurora held her breath.

Her arms tightened unconsciously around the small baby she was holding.

She should have left.

She should not have listened any further.

But her feet… would not move.

As if something was forcing her to remain there.

To listen.

To know… the truth she should have never heard.

From behind the door, a woman’s voice came softly.

Gentle. Familiar.

“Dante… we can’t keep doing this.”

That voice.

Aurora knew it. She knew it far too well.

Lily.

Aurora’s heart began to pound violently, unevenly.

“Why not?” the man’s voice sounded relaxed, almost dismissive. “Haven’t we been fine all this time?”

The guest room door wasn’t fully closed. There was a small gap. From it, light spilled out, forming a thin line across the marble floor.

Slowly… silently… Aurora stepped closer.

Her breath caught.

And through that narrow gap—

She saw.

Aurora’s world collapsed in an instant.

Dante stood close to Lily. Too close. His hand gripped her waist with an intimacy that spoke of long familiarity, as if it were a place he had claimed long ago. Lily’s dress was slightly disheveled, her shoulder exposed, her hair falling loosely out of place.

And Dante…

His gaze was the gaze of a man who desired the woman before him.

Something tore through Aurora’s chest.

Slowly, Lily pushed against Dante’s chest. Not forcefully. More like a half-hearted resistance.

“We have to stop. Aurora is home now,” she whispered softly, her breath slightly unsteady.

Dante smirked.

“But you don’t really want to stop. Even back then, you preferred doing it while Aurora was home. You said… it felt more thrilling.”

Aurora stopped breathing.

Her hands began to tremble.

The baby stirred slightly in her arms, and Aurora instinctively rocked gently. But her eyes could not leave the scene before her.

Dante lowered his head, his face nearing Lily’s neck.

Lily closed her eyes.

“Dante…”

Her voice weakened.

Not in refusal.

Aurora turned her face away for a moment, her breath coming in silent gasps.

No… This can’t be happening.

But the sound of fabric brushing, their breaths growing heavier, the shrinking distance between them…

It was all too real to deny.

Aurora bit down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound.

Tears began to fall. Uncontrollably.

Seconds passed—or perhaps minutes—Aurora didn’t know.

All she knew was that something inside her was slowly breaking.

Then suddenly, Lily pushed Dante back a little more firmly this time.

“…we have to be more careful,” Lily whispered.

Her tone had changed. More serious now.

Dante let out a quiet breath, then chuckled.

“Relax,” he said lightly. “That woman trusts you more than anyone.”

Aurora froze.

Those words…

Like a blade driven straight into her heart.

Her arms trembled as she held the baby.

Aurora looked back into the room.

They were no longer as close as before. But the distance meant nothing.

Because what she had seen… was already enough.

“Aurora will never suspect a thing,” Dante continued.

Lily fell silent.

Aurora could see her best friend’s face shift—slightly hesitant, slightly uneasy.

For a moment… Aurora hoped.

Hoped that Lily would stop.

Hoped that all of this was just a mistake.

But that hope shattered in the next second.

“Then… what about the baby?” Lily asked softly.

Aurora stiffened.

The world seemed to stop spinning.

Everything fell silent.

Only the sound of her heartbeat remained—loud, painful.

Dante didn’t answer immediately.

He stepped away, then leaned casually against a small table in the corner of the room.

As if the question didn’t matter.

As if… the baby meant nothing at all.

Aurora held her breath.

Waiting.

And when Dante finally spoke—

Everything truly fell apart.

“That child isn’t mine. Just like you said before.”

The words came out just like that.

Cold.

Without hesitation.

Aurora froze.

As if her blood had stopped flowing.

Her vision blurred.

Yet she remained standing.

Still listening.

Still feeling every word stab into her.

“I don’t care about them,” Dante continued. “The only child I’ll ever love… is yours. Our child.”

Dante stepped closer again, his hand brushing over Lily’s stomach.

Silence.

One second.

Two seconds.

Then—

Lily let out a soft laugh.

Gentle.

But to Aurora, it sounded like something inside her cracking.

Something that would never be repaired again.

Her tears fell soundlessly.

One drop.

Two drops.

Then more.

But Aurora didn’t move.

She didn’t enter the room.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t do anything.

Because in that moment, she no longer felt alive.

Her husband…

The man she had married to fulfill her father’s last wish…

The man she had tried to accept…

Had betrayed her.

And her best friend…

The woman she had saved from a miserable life…

The woman she considered family…

Had stabbed her in the back.

At the same time.

In the same night.

In the same place.

Aurora looked down at the small baby in her arms.

A tiny face that knew nothing.

That was innocent.

Her hand trembled as she touched the baby’s cheek.

“My child…” she whispered very softly.

Her voice was barely audible.

But it was enough to make her own heart tremble.

Inside the room, Dante and Lily were still talking.

But Aurora could no longer hear them clearly.

Everything felt muffled.

Distant.

Unreal.

What she felt now… was only one thing.

Emptiness.

But beneath that emptiness—

Something slowly began to grow.

Not sadness.

Coldness.

Aurora slowly lifted her head.

Her tears stopped.

Her gaze changed.

No longer fragile.

No longer weak.

She stepped back.

One step.

Then another.

Without a sound.

Without a trace.

She left the door.

As if she had never been there.

As if she had never seen anything.

But in her heart—

Everything had been recorded clearly.

Every word.

Every touch.

Every betrayal.

Aurora walked back to her room.

Each step felt heavy.

But she would not fall apart.

Not in front of them.

Not now.

When her bedroom door closed, Aurora leaned against it.

Finally…

Her body weakened.

But she still didn’t cry out loud.

Only her breathing grew heavy.

Only her eyes remained empty.

She stared ahead.

Then whispered softly—

“Dante…”

The name now felt foreign on her tongue.

“…and Lily…”

There was a long pause.

Then—

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

A smile devoid of warmth.

Instead… something darker.

“I will remember this.”

Aurora lowered her gaze, looking at her baby again.

“All of this…”

Her hand gently stroked the baby’s small head.

But her eyes…

Remained cold.

“This will not end here.”

Outside the room, footsteps approached.

Aurora tensed.

The doorknob slowly turned.

Click.

The door opened slightly.

And Dante’s voice came from the other side—

“Aurora?”

Aurora slowly lifted her face.

Her expression softened again.

As if nothing had happened.

As if she were still the same woman.

She answered calmly—

“…Yes.”

A brief silence followed.

Dante pushed the door open wider.

His eyes met Aurora’s.

Trying to read something.

But finding nothing.

Because Aurora…

Had sealed everything away.

“What are you doing?” Dante asked.

Aurora looked at him for a few seconds.

Then gave a faint smile.

A perfect smile.

A false one.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

But there was something in Aurora’s gaze…

That made him slightly uneasy.

Very slightly.

Almost imperceptible.

Yet enough to plant a small question in his mind.

Aurora looked deeper into him.

Then said, in a tone that could not be read at all—

“Dante…”

She paused.

Her smile remained.

But her eyes…

Were no longer the same.

“Are you happy tonight?”