80% and a Scorned Wife

Andrea’s POV

Finally, I'm set to go! Isabel got me the exact gown I requested for and the guards has prepared those cars as well.

The soft hum of the engine was the only sound inside the car. My heart beat in a rhythm that matched the city lights flashing by the tinted window.

Tonight wasn’t just a gathering. It was the beginning of something far greater my return. Something that will determine my revenge.

When the valet opened the door, the cool night breeze brushed my skin. I stepped out slowly, heels clicking against the floor, feeling the curious eyes of people turning toward me. For a brief second, I tasted power. 

I can now differentiate from being helpless and powerful, I will always go for something powerful. 

“Good evening, Miss Williams,” one of the ushers said, bowing slightly.

I smiled faintly and entered the hall.

The Empire Dinner sparkled with gold lights and champagne laughter. The scent of expensive perfume hung in the air, mingling with soft jazz. Every table was filled with people wearing their best smiles and their sharpest masks.

I took a glass of wine from a passing waiter and let my gaze sweep across the room. Every eye that met mine lingered just a second longer than it should. That was good. I wanted attention tonight, every bit of it.

I wanted to see people from my past greeting me warmly without knowing the danger in front of them.

After all, the daughter of the Williams family had finally returned.

“Miss Andrea Williams!” someone announced near the stage, and I caught several heads turning toward me. Compliments followed quickly, I managed to return a polite smiles, extended hands, and met some curious glances which I later ignore.

If you are that curious, you can make use of the internet. This night, I don't care about anyone that is curious about me.

They talked about my recovery, about how the heiress of one of the most powerful companies in the city had reappeared stronger, more radiant.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that behind this face was the woman who once begged for love on her wedding eve.

I offered handshakes and practiced fake laughter to appear cool, but my mind was miles away, calculating, remembering. Every polite conversation was a cover for observation. I was studying everyone: who whispered to who, who smiled too hard, who looked at me like I was a threat.

Because one day soon, they all would be shocked. 

Most especially the main characters in my revenge story.

And then, I saw her.

At the far end of the hall, under the glow of the chandelier, a woman wearing the same gown as me.

Red silk. High slit. The exact same design.

My heart gave a strange, amused flutter. 

For a second, I almost laughed. Then the realization hit me like a quiet shock.

That woman was her.

Mike’s wife.

That person I've always called my mother.

No matter how hard it is, she shouldn't have got married to my husband. I don't think she is my mother like I've always believed.

And tonight, I had chosen her dress.

A soft smile curved on my lips. “How interesting,” I whispered to myself. Fate, it seemed, still had a sense of irony.

Everyone noticed the resemblance in our dresses. People whispered, amused, confused, entertained. But I stood tall, unbothered. If she wanted to match me, let her. She had no idea what was coming.

“Miss Williams,” a deep voice broke through my thoughts.

I turned, and there he was.

Mike.

For a moment, time stilled.

He was exactly as I remembered, charming, confident, dressed to perfection. His arrogance still clung to him like cologne.

He smiled and reached out to shake my hand. “It’s such an honor to finally meet you in person, Miss Williams. Your company’s investment means a lot to us. As at of now, you are the highest shareholders with 80%. We’re practically partners.”

I froze for a heartbeat.

Eighty percent.

The words echoed in my head. Suddenly, the documents I had read earlier in my office came flashing back, the ones with the Empire Group logo. Those weren’t just random business files. They were proof.

Proof that I'm a shareholder in my ex's company, I have the right and access to get rid of him.

Proof that my company, Andrea’s company had control over his.

Oh, this was beautiful.

Fantastic.

Gigantic.

Inside, I smiled. Outside, I kept my expression polite, neutral.

“That’s wonderful news, Mr. Mike,” I said smoothly. “Williams Group always values its partnerships. I look forward to seeing how this one grows.”

He nodded eagerly, completely unaware of the danger standing in front of him.

If only he knew that the woman behind this new face was the same “useless nerd” he had once thrown away was the person standing in front of him.

The dinner carried on, laughter, speeches, clinking glasses. But I wasn’t really listening.

My mind was busy collecting ideas. Making my plans as fast I can.

I can't wait to wipe off those smile on their faces.

Mike’s mother, sitting near the front, the same woman who had once ordered the guards to drag me out of my own wedding.

A few of Mike’s old friends, all of them laughing, living comfortably, as if nothing had happened.

Each face burned into my memory like a name on a list. A list that I would cross off one by one.

Revenge wasn’t going to be loud or messy. It was going to be clean, silent, and precise.

Like a knife sliding under silk.

Later that night, as the music softened, Mike’s wife made her move. From the moment I woke up, she is no longer my mother and she is no one but Mike's wife.

She approached me with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling with false warmth. “Oh, Miss Williams! We’re wearing the same dress,” she laughed. “Isn’t that funny? We should take a picture together. The media would love it.”

Her perfume was the same scent my mother used to wear. My chest tightened for a second, but I forced the thought away. No. That couldn’t be true. No mother could do what she did.

I looked at her , really looked and smiled sweetly.

Then, in a calm, low voice that only she could hear, I said, “I don’t take pictures with people like you.”

Her smile froze.

“What?” she whispered, still forcing a laugh.

I stepped back slightly, letting my words sink in. “You heard me.”

The small crowd nearby went silent. Whispers started almost immediately.

She tried to laugh it off, but her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. And I felt lighter. Just a little.

One down. Many to go.

She should prepare her mind for something much deeper than that.

I turned to leave, my heels clicking softly against the marble.

I'm leaving with my mind calculating and I didn't look where I'm approaching until I into a man near the exit, and a splash of red wine spilled down my gown.

“Oh, damn it, I’m so sorry!” he said quickly. He grabbed a napkin, then paused, realizing it was useless. Without a second thought, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

His voice was deep but gentle. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” I said shortly, though my tone softened a little.

He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. “Just in case you need to replace the dress or… if I can make it up to you in any way.”

I took the card, glanced at the name, Ethan Cole.

I gave a small nod, slipped the card into my clutch, and walked out without another word.

Outside, the air was cool. My driver opened the door, and I slid into the backseat.

As the car pulled away, I stared at my reflection in the window.

Andrea Williams.

Heiress. Billionaire.

And soon the woman who would destroy everything that once destroyed her.

I took a slow breath, resting my head against the seat.

Now I understood why fate spared me that night.

It wasn’t mercy. It was preparation.

A second chance to rise and to make them all fall.

My lips curved slightly.

“Let the real game begin,” I murmured.

The car drove into the city lights, leaving behind the noise, the laughter, and the ghosts of my past.

And for the first time in years… I didn’t feel broken.

I felt alive.

I can't wait to see Mike crawl at my feet!