LOGIN“Stop this God forsaken wedding!!” I boom, my voice resonating through the halls of the church. Murmurs fill the air as eyes turn to me, dressed in nothing but rags. My grip tightens on the bat in my right hand. How dare they? How dare he? My eyes burn as I match forward, my body trembling with rage. “Clara, what–” His words are barely out before I send my hand forward, swinging the bat at him. Thick red blood spurts out as screams fill the air. ~~~~~ Clara Anthony thought it was love when she took the fall for a theft her husband committed just a few weeks after she gave birth. Thought she was doing the right thing for him, for them, but she was wrong because on the day she came out three years later, she found out he was getting married to her best friend of ten years. Her whole world shatters as she watches her best friend take her life, her husband, and her daughter. Left with nothing but pain and a deep ache for revenge. She teams up with the one person she swore never to look at again, the one person everyone thought was dead. Spencer Anthony, twin to her husband and her first love, the same man who left her without a word. Now he is back from the dead, not as the same man she once knew, but a cold, heartless mafia man who wants nothing but destruction. As Spencer offers her a chance to reclaim her life and daughter. Filled with nothing but hate, she takes up the offer, determined to make everyone pay. But what she didn't know when going close to Spencer was that when dining with the devil, you use a long spoon.
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Today, I got released for a crime I hadn't committed in the first place. Sudden lights snap me out of my thoughts as the sound of clicking drags me back to the present. Reporters. Fucking reporters. A bunch of them flooded me at once, crowding me as they took shots after shots, shouting incoherent words at me. Words that I had to strain my ears to hear. Honestly, I wish I hadn't. “It's Mrs. Clara, the ex of Mr. Derrick!” Ex? What the hell were they talking about? I shake my head a bit, not wanting to pay them any heed as I try to push through them. Reporters and their gibbering. “Ma'am! What do you have to say after three years?” Where the hell are they coming from? I push harder, ducking my head to avoid more cameras. “Are you even supposed to be out yet? The police claimed your case was rather dire. Is that so?” Urgh, for Christ's sake, let me pass! I try to duck further away, but a sharp pain soon stings my skull as someone mistakenly tugs at my hair. I’m about to give them a piece of my mind when someone says something that makes me halt. “Mrs. Clara, how do you feel about your ex-husband getting married on the day of your release?” Huh? Slowly, I turn around to look at the reporter who'd just spoken. “What the hell did you just say?” He wouldn't dare. “Mr. Derrick is getting married to Ms. Florida at Saint James Cathedral as we speak. How do you feel about that? Do you consent to their marriage?” The reporter repeats, pushing her hand forward to hand me the microphone. I blink, but I'm still standing where I'm stationed. This is not a dream. “You... you're lying.” I force out the words. Derrick wouldn't do that to me. He... he loves me. The reporter clicks her tongue, digs through her bag, and slips out her device before playing a video. ..A live video of Derrick in the same church where we’d gotten married, saying vows to Florida, my best friend. My entire being pales as I stumble a few steps back, almost about to fall, but I steady myself. Tears burned my eyes as I steadied my gaze on my husband, now passionately kissing Florida. A sudden ache rises in my chest as I turn around. Rage. Blind fucking rage ripples through my bones as I force my tears down. I run my fingers through my hair, and I tug at them tightly. I've never felt this angry. It feels as if my head.. my head.. “Mrs Clara?” ..It's about to fucking explode. “Talk to us, do you contest Mr. Derrick’s marriage to Ms. Florida?” I needed to calm myself down. “Mrs. Clara Anthony?” I needed to.. My eyes snap towards a police man stationed at the front of the building, my eyes rake him before slowly landing on the gun hoisted on his waist. I know I shouldn't, but at this point... Sending my right leg forward, I take a step, and another, grab the gun from the officer, and soon I’m speeding across the lot like a crazed woman. ..But at this point, I'm not thinking at all. I took the fall for that bastard. I ruined my life for that fucking bastard. I was in jail for that fucking bastard! And he repays me by marrying my best friend on the day of my release? “Taxi!” I flag down the nearest cab, not minding the growing noise from the reporters sprinting behind me. “Saint James Cathedral.” The man nods and steps on the gas. I hold the metal in my grip tighter. It's my first day out in three years, and I can't even look at the roads. || Once the driver pulls up into the church, I dash out without thinking twice. The cab driver yells about something concerning his payment, but I don't stop. I can't stop. Without even thinking twice, I push the double doors of the cathedral; the screeching sound had everyone on their feet in seconds, snapping their heads towards me. “Stop this wedding!” I yell, raising the metal in my hand shakily. Murmurs fill the air as eyes turn to me. Some looked frightened, others gazed at me in pity. My grip tightens on the gun either way. Derrick.. My eyes burn as I match forward, my body trembling with rage. I pause some meters away from the altar, eyes locked on my husband. ..And his soon-to-be bride. “Clara, what–” Derrick’s words are barely out before I send my hand forward, nudging the body of the gun against his head. I've never done this before, hurt anyone, but.. I stagger back. Anger. I'm so angry. Thick red blood spurts out as screams, Derrick's and others fill the air. “AH!” He screams out, palms flying to his forehead where the gun got him clean. Blood pumps out, causing Florida's eyes to widen as she instantly glares at me. “How dare you?!” I scream, my blood pumping as I move to take another hit. “Seize her!” Amidst the pain, my husband regains the energy to scream, and soon a pair of strong arms grabs me from behind. I lift my feet, fighting, trashing, as violent screams after screams tear out of my lips. “You can't do this to me, Derrick!” I shout, my eye shifting to Florida, causing yet another stab of pain. How could she? “You don't get to own everything.” Florida seizes me up then snarls, hugging her measly bouquet closer. “What are you waiting for? Take that bitch out of here now!” The familiar stern voice of Mr. Anthony radiates through the air, causing the men to drag me faster. Clicks after click were heard as people took shots of me, murmuring all horrible things. Amidst the noise, I feel a particular gaze piercing into my forehead, and my eyes snap up, and I am met with a pair of very familiar emerald eyes. He leans across the pillar, a cigar pinched between two fingers. Raven hair shielding almost half of his face. But those eyes.. I could swear I’ve seen them before. In an instant, I'm jolted out of my thoughts as my body is flung harshly out of the church. My knees scrape the asphalt, tearing away part of my kneecap. “Ah!” I scream out. Now that the adrenaline is gone, the pain hits me with a force. My husband, whom I’d taken the fall for, was getting married to my best friend. I will make them pay. They will fucking pay!CHAPTER 150Spencer’s POVA quiet laugh escaped me.It wasn't loud.If anything, it was almost amused.Florida looked up at me through tear-filled eyes, clutching Rose tighter against her chest."Don't."Her voice trembled."Don't laugh at me."I tilted my head."You want everyone to believe this is about love.""It is!"Her voice cracked as she stood, still holding Rose protectively."I love her!""No."My reply was calm enough to make the room fall silent again."You love control."Her face twisted."You don't know anything about us.""I know enough."I took another step forward."You want to cry about losing Rose?"My gaze settled on the frightened little girl clinging to her."Then let's tell everyone the whole story."Florida's breathing became uneven."Spencer...""I've seen the reports."She froze."The nanny statements."Another step."The therapist's notes."Another."The recordings."The blood drained from her face."No...""You don't get to stand here pretending to be a dev
CHAPTER 149Spencer’s POVThe silence inside the ballroom stretched so long it almost became unbearable.No one moved.No one dared to.Derrick still stood in the center of the stage, the color drained from his face as the reality of Anthony’s betrayal slowly settled over him.Florida looked even worse.Her eyes darted between Derrick, me, the lawyers, and the documents scattered across the stage as if she expected someone to laugh and admit this was all some elaborate joke.No one did.Camera flashes erupted again.Reporters whispered frantically into microphones.The story had already changed.This wasn’t Derrick’s gala anymore.It was mine.I slipped both hands into my pockets and looked at Derrick almost lazily.He stared back at me with naked disbelief.“…That’s impossible.”“I know,” I replied calmly. “You keep saying that.”His fists clenched.“You manipulated him.”“I persuaded him.”“You turned my father against me.”I almost smiled.“No.”I took another slow step toward him.
CHAPTER 148Derrick’s POVFor several long seconds…I couldn’t hear anything.The ballroom was packed with hundreds of people, cameras were still flashing, reporters were whispering into microphones, and an orchestra sat frozen at the edge of the dance floor.Yet all of it faded into silence.I simply stared at Spencer.He stood a few feet away with one hand tucked casually into his pocket, looking completely at ease, as though he hadn’t just ripped the foundation out from under my feet.No.This wasn’t right.This wasn’t possible.I looked down at the folder still clutched in my hand and flipped through the pages again.The contracts hadn’t changed.Neither had the signatures.Not the percentages.0.1%.One-tenth of one percent.One abandoned warehouse that had technically been registered under Spencer Global years ago—a property so insignificant I’d forgotten it even existed.“This…” My voice sounded hollow. “This is fake.”Spencer’s mouth curved into the smallest smile.“I was hopi
CHAPTER 147Spencer’s POVFor a moment, Derrick simply stared at me.The confidence that had filled him only seconds ago didn’t disappear—not yet. It merely faltered, replaced by confusion as my words settled over the silent ballroom.“…What?”A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.Not warm.Not amused.Patient.“You heard me.”His brows knitted together.“I own your company.”“No.” I tilted my head slightly. “You own zero-point-one percent of a warehouse.”Murmurs rippled through the ballroom.Derrick’s smile finally slipped.“What are you talking about?”I didn’t answer him.Instead, I looked toward the entrance.“Right on cue.”The ballroom doors burst open.“Derrick!”Everyone turned.His manager hurried inside, completely ignoring the hundreds of guests staring at him. His face had gone pale, his suit was disheveled, and sweat beaded along his forehead as he clutched a tablet tightly against his chest.“Derrick, we have a problem.”Derrick frowned.“What are you doing? Not now
CHAPTER 130Clara’s POV The night grew darker as I sat going over some papers spread across the dining table. A whole stack sat in front of me, some highlighted, some folded, some with notes scribbled messily at the corners after I got frustrated trying to understand them.Sometimes the words beca
CHAPTER 129Derrick’s POVI was in the car, my mind drifting back to Florida again.The city lights passed by outside the tinted windows, bright and blurry against the glass, but I barely noticed them.My thoughts were too occupiedFlorida.What use would she even be after I finally got rid of Clara
CHAPTER 126Esteban’s POVBy the time I stepped back into my office, whatever softness the morning had allowed was already gone.The door shut behind me with a muted click, and with it, the last trace of anything personal disappeared. The room was exactly how I left it, clean lines, dark wood, orga
CHAPTER 119Clara’s POV The shift didn’t happen loudly.It didn’t need to.By the next morning, I could feel it before I even fully saw it, the way the narrative had begun to tilt, subtle but undeniable. And this time, it wasn’t accidental.It was directed.I stood at the long table in Spencer’s o






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