She gave him her heart. He gave it to her best friend. Selene Ward’s picture-perfect life shatters the night she catches her husband, Cole Harrington, kissing her best friend in the shadows of their anniversary party. But betrayal is only the beginning. With secrets and lies buried deep in the heart of her marriage, Selene realizes the people she trusted most have been conspiring behind her back. Haunted by whispered warnings and cryptic letters, Selene must decide—will she break quietly, or will she burn everything down? Because sometimes revenge isn't loud. Sometimes… it wears red.
View More“You know you’re not going to leave,” Selene heard her mother’s familiar voice say as her hand hovered over the doorknob. Her throat tightened. With a shaky breath, she whispered, “I am. I will.” “Then what?” her mother’s voice pressed, sharp and unyielding. “What happens afterwards? You disappear, Cole files a missing report, pretends to be heartbroken while still wrapped around Scarlett’s waist. And you? You’ll just be another forgotten wife. Is that it?” Selene’s chest rose and fell quickly. “I—I just… I just need to clear my head,” she stammered. “From what? Don’t you see the truth right in front of you? Act on it!” the voice barked, full of bitterness. Selene whimpered, covering her mouth with trembling hands as a sob clawed its way up her throat. The suitcase slipped from her fingers. Her other hand fell from the knob. She stood frozen, shaking, caught between fury and despair. A deep sigh came from her mother’s figure, softer this time. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m done.”
It was half past nine when Selene pulled into the garage. How she had driven through the night, she had no idea. But she made it alive. That was what mattered.She sat there, unmoving. The engine was off, but her hands were still on the wheel. Five minutes had passed, maybe more, and she still couldn’t bring herself to open the door.The silence around her didn’t help. It just made everything feel heavier.This house used to be her safe space. Now it felt like a tomb.Selene exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. Then, with all the strength she had left, she pushed the door open and stepped out. She had to move.As soon as she entered the living room, she stopped. There was a brown shopping bag sitting on the couch. She stared at it for a moment.Carefully, she walked over and picked it up. Inside was a pair of designer shoes. Brand new. Never worn.Her eyes scanned the logo printed on the bag, and then it clicked. One of the stores. From Michael’s photos. One of the places Cole and Scarle
Selene had both hands tangled in her hair as she stared at the photos scattered across her desk like a crime scene. Each image cut her deeper, and with every glance her grip tightened, her jaw locked, rage simmering in her eyes. Then, slowly, she inhaled. Straightened. Forced her face into that soft, professional smile she wore so well. “Thank you for this, Michael. Eileen will settle you accordingly,” she said, her voice steady though her chest ached. “You’re welcome. I’ll leave the photos with you. I’ll also send a written report and digital copies to your email,” Michael replied. Selene nodded, rising to her feet. “Once again, thank you.” He took her hand firmly, hesitated, then added quietly, “For what it’s worth, I hope you leave this man and find someone who loves you the way you deserve.” Selene managed a faint smile. Gratitude flickered in her eyes, but the words caught in her throat. Michael gave a polite nod, then left with Eileen at his side. The office door clicked s
“Michael Jobs, please, take a seat. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Selene said, her voice calm and composed though her insides were trembling. Her nerves fluttered beneath her skin like a butterfly. Michael gave a polite smile as he crossed the room, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington.” “Please,” she replied, shaking his hand firmly, “call me Selene.” He nodded once, repeating her name with a faint chuckle that softened the air. “Selene.” They both laughed lightly, the sound awkward, a mask to cover what lay ahead. When they sat, Selene gestured toward the empty chair, and Eileen joined them without hesitation. Selene trusted her assistant more than anyone—five years of loyalty had cemented it. Eileen had been beside her through impossible deadlines, personal storms, and secrets no one else could carry. If anyone was to witness this moment, it should be her. Once they were seated, silence settled. Brief. Heavy. Anticipatory. Michael cleare
“I… can’t,” Selene whispered, eyes fixed on the sink. “I’ll be back when the private investigator brings you the evidence you need to be strong. See you soon, Selene.” When she lifted her head, the figure was gone. Selene stared at her reflection for a long moment, chest heaving. Then she took a deep breath, straightened, slipped out of the bathroom, and dressed quietly. Cole was still asleep, breaths slow and steady. She slid into bed. He instinctively curled closer, arm over her waist. Her hand twitched, ready to shove him off—but she didn’t. Let him have this. If Damien was right, it would be the last warmth she ever gave him. She picked up her phone. Eileen had already sent the investigator’s details. Michael Jobs. Without hesitation, Selene typed out an email, attaching files and pouring every suspicion into neat, clipped sentences. She wasn’t waiting anymore. By the time she set her phone down, it was past 2 a.m. Cole had curled closer in his sleep, clinging to her as if he
Selene stepped back into the hall, but she wasn’t the same woman who had walked out minutes ago. Something inside her felt hollow. Her steps were slower, and her heart felt quiet. The music, the spinning bodies, the laughter—they carried on without her, but Selene felt like an outsider to it all. She had no desire to join in. No desire to smile. Her eyes found Damien. He was leaning against the wall, half-hidden beneath the dim lights, a flute of champagne in his hand, watching the room with a look that made him look older than his years. He drained the glass as if it were nothing, then raised his eyes when she reached him. She took his sleeve. Her voice wobbled. “Please,” she said, blunt and raw. “Tell me who else knows. Please.” “Selene, I didn’t send you that note to have you drown in it.” His voice was calm, but firm. “Then why?” she whispered. “So you can get revenge,” he said, not softening. The word struck odd and hard in the hum of the party. “Get your life back.” Her br
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