Chapter 5

My chest tightened with each step I took. The pain intensified, spreading like a wildfire from the pit of my stomach to the back of my throat. I didn't want to cry. Not over him. Not again.

But the memory of Max kissing her—kissing her in public as if the world didn’t matter—burned a hole in my chest. He used to barely touch me in public, always keeping a safe distance, as if I wasn’t worthy of his affection when people could see us.

When we were married, he’d sometimes pull his hand back if I reached for him. I’d always wondered why. Maybe it was because I wasn’t as beautiful as the women he was drawn to. I wasn’t striking or polished. I was plain. Simple. Perhaps he had been embarrassed of me, ashamed of how I looked when the world was watching.

The woman he kissed tonight, though…she wasn’t plain. She was everything I wasn’t. Beautiful. Polished. Confident. Her makeup was flawless and her dress hugged her body in ways that mine never would. Max had kissed her like he was proud to be seen with her.

My fingers shook as I reached for my bedroom door, feeling like a fool. I had been so naive, thinking that maybe I had done enough for him. That loving him would have been enough. But it wasn’t. It never was.

I fell onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. My heart felt raw, my skin felt tight, and my mind was racing with thoughts of why I was never good enough for him. I turned over, clutching my pillow as tears pooled in my eyes, hot and angry. The fabric muffled my sobs. I hated that I was crying over him. I hated that I still cared. I hated that I had spent so much of my life trying to fit into the mold of the “perfect wife” only for him to throw it back in my face.

And suddenly, that hurt started to morph into something else. Something sharper. Stronger. Anger. It rose inside me sweeping away the heartbreak and leaving behind only fury.

I sat up, wiped my tears away, and took a deep breath. I had spent years being plain, being meek, being what I thought he wanted. No more.

My phone sat on the nightstand. I hesitated for a moment, then picked it up. I scrolled through the contacts until I reached his name—Richard. With trembling fingers, I pressed ‘call.’

“Tamara?” he answered.

“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.” I said, going straight to the point.

“You called me over to break off the engagement tonight. How-"

"I changed my mind. But let’s be clear, Richard. I’m not marrying you because I want to. I’m doing this for one reason, and one reason only.”

“And what’s that?”

“Revenge,” I whispered" I want revenge on my ex husband"

There was a long silence for a while. For a moment, I thought he might say no, that he might push back on my motives. But then, he spoke.

“Alright,” Richard said quietly. “If that’s what you want, then I’m in.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting him to agree so easily to my plan, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that now, I had a plan.

After I hung up, I didn’t waste any time. I marched down the hall to my parents’ study to tell them the news.

I had wanted to live quietly, away from the spotlight, but now…I wanted the opposite.

I knocked on the door, and when my mother called for me to enter, I stepped inside.

“Mom. Dad,” I said “I’ve made a decision.”

They both looked up from their desks, surprised. My mother stood first “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m marrying Richard,” I said bluntly.

My father blinked in shock. “Are you serious?"

“Yes,” I replied, not backing down. “And I’m tired of hiding away. I want to be recognized as your daughter, to be part of the world you live in. I’m done with staying out of the media.”

My mother’s face softened, and she crossed the room, pulling me into a hug.

“Oh, Tammie,” she murmured, kissing my cheek. “This is wonderful news. We’ll make it perfect.”

My father nodded “We’ll arrange the engagement party for two days from now. It’ll be spectacular.”

I smiled, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. I let them fuss over me, let them shower me with praise and excitement. Inside, though, all I could think about was Max. How he would react when he saw me—when he saw that I wasn’t the woman he thought he could just discard.

The next day, I began my transformation. I had the wealth, the resources, the contacts. I called the best stylists, the best makeup artists, and demanded a complete overhaul. I wanted to look nothing like the woman Max had left behind.

I wanted to be someone who would make him regret every single moment he had taken me for granted.

The day of my engagement had finally arrived. It was a day I had once never imagined myself experiencing again, not after Max. But as I sat in the velvet chair, surrounded by makeup artists, hair stylists, and the best professionals money could buy.

My hair was being styled into soft waves, each strand falling perfectly into place. My face was being painted expertly. I glanced at the mirror in front of me, but the woman staring back was different—polished, flawless, beautiful in a way I had never considered myself before.

“Miss Tamara,” a voice said behind me.

I turned to see Henry, my PR manager, standing with a wide smile. “You look stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Stunning. The word felt foreign in reference to me, but I welcomed it now, embraced it.

Henry walked closer, placing his hands gently on my shoulders as he looked at me in the mirror. “Tonight is your night, Tamara. Smile in the spotlight. Own it. You’ll have all eyes on you, and that’s exactly what we want.”

I nodded, trying to soak in his words. This wasn’t just an engagement party. It was my introduction to society, my declaration that I was no longer the woman I had once been.

Henry’s reflection beamed at me. “I’ve arranged for paparazzi to be present. Expect your photos to be on every blog and magazine by morning.”

My stomach flipped at the thought. It made me excited.

“Good,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. The idea of people talking about me, seeing me as something other than Max’s discarded wife, was intoxicating. This was my moment.

He gave me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders before stepping back. “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready. See you downstairs.”

As he left the room, my personal stylist entered, carrying a garment bag that looked expensive. She carefully unzipped it, revealing the dress we had chosen for tonight—a lavish floor-length gown made of rich silk and filled with delicate crystals that shimmered like stars. It was breathtaking.

When I was done with my hair, she helped me into the gown. Her hands moved carefully as she adjusted the fabric around my frame. When I finally stood in front of the mirror, fully dressed, I couldn’t recognize myself.

The woman staring back at me looked powerful, elegant, untouchable . I ran my hands over the smooth silk of the dress, feeling the luxury of it. My hair was styled to perfection. My makeup was flawless. The red dress hugged me perfectly, the crystals shimmering under the light.

With one final look in the mirror, I turned and made my way out of the room, my heels clicking against the marble floors as I headed toward the ballroom.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, the air seemed to shift. All eyes were on me. The room was filled with politicians, business moguls, and the elite of society.

As I walked further into the ballroom, the attention I received was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Heads turned. People smiled and nodded, their voices hushed as I passed by. Women who had once ignored me now tried to catch my eye, hoping to align themselves with me.

For a moment, I reveled in it. This was what power felt like. This was what it meant to be seen, truly seen.

Then, everything faded as soon as I saw him.

Richard.

Time seemed to stop the moment our eyes met across the room. The sea of people around us disappeared, the noise of the crowd dulled into nothingness. All I could see was him. All I could feel was the pull between us, something so intense that it stole my breath away. He stood tall in a perfectly tailored suit. His blue eyes sparkled and his dark hair was slicked back in a way that only enhanced his sharp features. He looked…godlike.

I had to remind myself, again, that this wasn’t real. That this wasn’t love. This was revenge. Richard was part of my plan, nothing more. But in that moment, as he started to walk toward me, I couldn’t think straight. My heart raced, my hands trembling slightly at my sides. The intensity in his gaze, the way he looked at me— it was overwhelming.

When he finally reached me, he didn’t say anything for a second. He just looked at me, his eyes raking over me as if he was seeing me for the first time. Being under his gaze was almost too much to bear, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

“Tamara,” he said softly “You look…breathtaking.”

I tried to respond, but the words stuck in my throat. He was so close now. His scent, his warmth—it made it hard to focus. My eyes lingered on the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the light reflected in his blue eyes. I could feel the tension between us, strong and thick. And for a moment, just a moment, I wondered what it would be like to let myself fall for him.

But I couldn’t. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t real.

Before I could find my voice, the sound of glass clinking echoed through the ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention. I turned to see my father standing at the front of the room, holding his champagne glass high.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” my father’s voice rang out, commanding the attention of the room, “thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate this joyous occasion.”

I felt Richard’s hand slide into mine. I glanced down at our intertwined fingers, and for a moment, it felt…right. We were supposed to look like a couple in love, after all. This was part of the plan.

My father smiled warmly at the crowd, then turned toward us. “It is my great pleasure to introduce my daughter, Tamara Johnson, as the fiancée of the most sought-after bachelor in the city, Richard Garrison.”

The room erupted in applause, but the sound barely registered. My heart was pounding too loudly in my chest, my mind spinning from the intensity of everything happening around me. This was it. This was my new life.

I forced a smile, holding Richard’s hand tighter as we faced the crowd together. People smiled at me, women in the audience clapped a little too enthusiastically, and I could feel their envy, their admiration.

But then, as I scanned the crowd, my breath caught in my throat. My eyes landed on someone.

Max.

He was standing at the back of the room, his expression frozen in shock. Our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. He looked at me like he didn’t recognize me. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

And in that moment, I felt a wave of satisfaction.

This was exactly what I had wanted.

Now the game begins for us max…..