Shattered Vows: Silent Revenge.

Serena Pov

Biting back a proud smile, I clutched the velvet-wrapped box in my hold, feeling the sharp edges of the frame dig into my palm as I took a deep breath to compose myself.

This was the anniversary gift I had spent weeks thinking about before eventually settling for the expensive customized watch he’d always been interested in. It was purchased for six figures, but I didn’t mind the price at all. It only showed how much I loved him, and the lengths I was ready to take to prove that, because he’d been working so hard for months now for our future that he’d stopped mentioning his interest in getting this watch.

I’d been so nervous about the idea, but having this now—in my hands—felt so right.

He deserved to be happy. I would hate to see wrinkles grow on his forehead from all the work he’d been throwing himself into.

Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this! I bet he’ll sweep me off my feet and swirl me around with kisses.

I giggled excitedly at the thought and stopped to look at the bold white letters hanging above the restaurant in front of me: BON APPETIT, a wide smile spreading across my lips as a wave of nostalgia washed over me, forcing me to walk down the private dining hall, the sound of my heels resonating around the walls, announcing my presence swiftly.

This was the hall where I was proposed to four years ago. Where Killian went on one knee and pulled out the ring, with friends and the restaurant’s entire staff showing up with music bands, exclusive foods and decorations, paparazzi, and random people to fill up the moment.

My fingers ran along the walls besides me, feeling through the surface of the colorful graffiti drawn on the wall: KILLIAN AND SELENA FOREVER. It stillfelt like yesterday—like I was about to relive the memory lagain. The only difference was that I wasn’t crying like a banshee and I had a gift for this moment.

But as quickly as the reverie came, it was gone when the headwaiter appeared in front of me, her head slightly bowed as she stretched her hands towards the main room with a formal smile, “Your husband is already inside, Mrs. Blackwood.”

I mouthed a thank you as a soft smile tugged at the corner of my lips while I smoothed the edges of my dress, ignoring the nervous feeling building up in my gut as I didn’t miss the confused look brewing in her eyes.

Something about the look didn’t sit well with me. It was almost as if she…wasn’t expecting me to be here.

Quickly, I closed my eyes and shook my head, desperate to peel away that thought from my mind. Thousands of customers came here every day, so perhaps she was having a hard time keeping track of things? And besides, now was not the right time to start having second thoughts on this special day.

I took leave from work early today, spent tons of hours getting ready—making sure everything was perfect for this night. There was no going back now.

Though Killian, on the other hand, has been really… distant lately.

“It's the stress from work,” he mumbled with a shrug, each time I brought up the topic.

And I believed him—because I wanted to. Because after everything we had been through, after the journey we'd taken together, he wouldn’t just turn his back on me… right?

I wish I hadn’t asked myself that question because the minute I walked into the candlelit room that nagging feeling from the doorway came back—this time, louder and heavier than before—almost like a shift in the atmosphere.

My palms slowly started to grow sweaty, and my heart pounded with worry against my ribcage as my eyes darted eagerly around the room for him, a sigh of relief leaving my lips when I spotted him at the table in the corner of the room. A different spot from the first time we’d met, which was a bit…surprising, but maybe he had his reasons for the sudden change.

Killian’s shoulders were slumped backwards in his seat in a relaxing manner, his emerald eyes reflecting the genuine smile curling up at the corner of his lips — the smile I hadn’t seen for months.

The kind of smile I used to believe was mine.

But it wasn’t. My heart dropped in dread and the world around me slowed down when my eyes moved to the occupied seat beside him, widening on the giggling woman sitting across from him, her gestures making her appearance more charming and attractive under the soft candlelight.

The woman was none other than Samantha James.

The same woman, Killian, swore he was no longer in contact some months back.

Her fake laughs increased, the sound piercing through my chest like a dozen knives, as I stood there frozen, watching as she shamelessly reached out to caress his arms while batting her lashes to pin him under her spell.

But that wasn’t even the painful part of it. Narrowing my eyes, I watched as he didn’t pull away—didn’t stop her from crossing the boundaries—didn’t try to bring up my name as self-defense. He just looked at her—no, gazed at her—like a man lost in his own lustful desires, not even noticing his own wife standing behind them.

A muscle in my jaws ticked with anger, but as soon as I took a closer step, my gaze flickering to the contents spread out on the table, my breath hitched and suddenly, I’d forgotten how to breathe properly.

There were open boxes with diamond necklaces. One that suspiciously matched the one currently curled up around my neck.

Then, there was the handwritten note. The single initial S at the bottom of the card with red lipstick and his signature.

A sharp, burning numbness spread through my chest, freezing me in place as the realization crashed over me.

All those gifts he’d been sending to me….were they ever meant for me? Or were those a slip up?

My fingers trembled around the gift box, the carefully wrapped paper suddenly feeling like a joke—like I had dressed myself up for a fairy tale that was perhaps never one to begin with.

But the worst part, the part that made bile rise in my throat, wasn’t the betrayal written in the way he looked at her.

It was the small voice that destroyed the last ounce of denial in my mind.

“Mommy!”

I turned, my eyes wide in disbelief and jaws dropping as the familiar petite figure ran past me and jumped straight into Samantha’s arms, burying his face deeply into her as if savoring her cologne.

Samantha chuckled, planting a brief kiss on his forehead—something that Theo always loved. "Oh, Theo, I miss you too! But I told you not to run around, didn't I?

Something inside me snapped, forcing me to inhale sharply and blink back the tears stinging in my eyes as I leaned over an empty table to gasp for air.

I couldn’t breathe.

Not with the sight before me.

I watched as Killian turned his head in my direction—as if the world around him finally acknowledged my presence. With a blurred, salty vision, I stared back at him, hoping for him to rush into my arms and plead for forgiveness and for an explanation. But he didn’t move an inch. There was no guilt in his expression—no regret.

Just plain irritation and an ice-cold glare because somehow I was now a stranger who’d interrupted his night.

“Serena,” he called in a low, annoyed voice, like I was one of his exes, not the woman he'd been with for four years. Not the woman he should be dining and celebrating with tonight. “What are you doing here?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, licking my lips as I walked to his front with furrowed brows. “Our anniversary, Killian.” My fingers gripped the edge of the box, slowly waving it at him as my knuckles turned white from the impact. “I thought—” My voice cracked as I sniffed back the tears, “I thought we were celebrating this together. What is she doing here, Killian? What is going on?”

I watched as unfamiliar emotion glared back at me in his stare—anger and irritation—as he pulled out his phone and waved it at me, mimicking the slow motion I’d done with the box. “I sent you a text in the morning. It’s not my fault you chose to ignore it.”

I blinked, trying to understand where all these were going. “A text?” I must have forgotten to check my messages, I was so occupied with tonight’s arrangements.

“I texted you that I would have an important meeting tonight and our celebration was going to have to be canceled. "You should have just stayed home, rather than making yourself look completely ridiculous.” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, noticing how stiff and quiet I’d gone.

I almost laughed, the foreign words from his lips sending shivers down my spine. Important meeting? Was Samantha that important that he was going to cancel our anniversary? I should have stayed home while my husband wined and dined with another woman? While Theodore was receiving kisses from another woman?

Samantha tilted her head, her blue eyes sparkling with something that I recognized as mischief as she pouted, “Oh, Serena. I’m so sorry. You see, it wasn’t my intention to make you look…humiliated and left out. We’ve just been too busy to tell you this. "I didn’t think Killian would… keep you in the dark like this.”

Like this?

Like I was some naive, pitiful little housewife too stupid to realize she had already been replaced?

The shock was too much for me to take. Too much for my grip on the box to hold on anymore. With a heaving chest, the gift finally slipped from my fingers, the small box hitting the floor with a thud, revealing the watch and drawing attention towards us.

Killian barely spared it a glance. He never did, even when I’d shoved it at his face, and that caused the ache to deepen even further.

“How long?” I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper as I glanced between both of them.

Killian didn’t flinch, but instead, he sighed, almost like I was an inconvenience. “Serena—”

“How long, Killian?” I asked again, my voice louder than before as hot tears slowly trailed down my cheeks.

He exhaled sharply, finally standing to his feet, towering over me like he always did. His emerald eyes looked down at me coldly, distantly.

Like an inconvenience.

“Long enough to be my wife.” He blurted out, his face unreadable and guilt-free.

I froze, my brows furrowing as the venomous words echoed at the back of my mind. “What?”

“She did what you couldn’t do as a woman and my wife!” He gritted through his teeth, slamming his fist against the table as he flared hard at me, the look in his eyes distant and indifferent. She was there when you weren’t. All you ever did was work, work, WORK. When have you ever done anything for me? When have you ever been a wife to me, hmm? Will you be ready to have another accident for me to prove your loyalty? No? I guess not!”

The words pierced through me like a blade—deep and merciless as they echoed at the back of my mind. I staggered back, my vision blurring with angry tears slowly pushing through.

What had I done for him? When had I ever been a wife to him?

I had given up my career to support his. I stayed up very late on the nights when he was sick or needed emotional support and missed lots of important contracts and interviews that could change us, held him when the world felt like it was too much for him to carry and became his safe space.

I carried his child, built a home, and sacrificed every part of myself to be what he needed. To be what he always wanted.

I even went as low as becoming a housewife and worked from home so he could never complain about me coming back from work at late hours.

And still… it wasn’t enough.

More hot tears brewed at the corner of my vision, turning into small sniffles as a bitter laugh escaped my lips at the cruel reality, but I refused to let them fall again—not in front of them.

I felt the curious gazes of the people in the room boring through my skin, anticipating my reaction as some muttered sympathy towards my direction and some threw some taunting statements at me, like I’d always perhaps been the other woman.

I took a step back, but Killian was faster. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side, his grip tight and hard, with the intention of leaving a mark. Then, he grabbed my chin to look into his merciless eyes before barking an order like he’d always done, “Be a good wife and wait for me at home. I have a feeling you will like the surprise I have in store for you.”