The Billionaire’s Revenge Bride

The restaurant was dimly lit, Scarlett smoothed the hem of her dress, her nerves buzzing in anticipation. Three years of marriage with Daniel Carter, and tonight was meant to celebrate all of it

Then she noticed the man. He walked directly to her table, “Mrs. Carter?” His voice was flat, businesslike.

Scarlett blinked. “Yes? What is this about?”

Without any hint of hesitation, he placed a thick envelope on the table in front of her. “You’ve been served.”

Scarlett stared at the papers. The words blurred together. Petition for Divorce. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

“This, this must be a mistake,” Scarlett stammered, pushing the papers back toward him. “My husband is meeting me here any minute.”

The man didn’t even flinch. “Have you spoken to the said husband today?”

“I have,” she answered confidently, although her nerves were on the edge. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone. Daniel’s name glowed on the screen as she hit the dial. It barely rang once before he picked up.

“Daniel?” Her voice was small, almost childlike.

Daniel was at first silent, she could only hear the sound of static. Then, in a tone so cold it sent a chill down her spine, he said, “I believe you must have received the letter from the lawyer. It’s over.”

Scarlett’s breath hitched. “What, what do you mean it’s over? Daniel, where are you? What are you doing? I am waiting for you here.”

“I’m not coming.” Daniel answered in a tone that was so cold.

“Daniel, please, if this is some kind of joke, I beg you just stop it. Please.”

“It’s not a joke.” He exhaled, bored, detached. “I’m done. Sign the papers.”

Scarlett’s throat tightened. “After three years? This is how you tell me?”

His voice didn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Who is she?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, with a terrifying finality, he said, “Goodbye, Scarlett.”

The line went dead. Scarlett barely remembered the drive home. The streetlights blurred as the tears ran down her face, her fingers were clutching the steering wheel so tightly that they ached.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t happening.

She slammed the car door shut and rushed up the steps, fumbling with the keys, her hands shaking too hard to find the right one. After a few panicked tries, the door finally gave way.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet. The air smelled faintly of lavender and polished wood, as if nothing had changed, as if her entire world hadn’t just collapsed in a matter of minutes.

Then she heard footsteps.

“Mrs. Carter?” The hesitant voice belonged to Elena, their housekeeper of three years. She stood near the staircase, wringing her hands in the crisp white apron she always wore.

Scarlett’s eyes darted around. “Where is he?”

Elena hesitated. “I… I don’t think…”

“Where is my husband?” Scarlett shouted in a pained voice, her voice cracking slightly.

The older woman swallowed, her gaze dropping to the floor. “He’s at the library.”

Scarlett took a step forward. “Alone?”

Elena hesitated then she replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper, “No.”

Something sharp and cold lodged itself in Scarlett’s chest. “Who is she?”

Elena flinched. “Mrs. Carter, I… I don’t think you should go there.”

Scarlett grabbed her wrist, not unkindly but desperately. “Please.”

A heavy silence stretched between them before Elena finally sighed. “Valerie.”

Scarlett went still. Valerie. Daniel’s first love. The one who got away. The woman he never spoke of but whose name had always been a ghost between them.

Scarlett released Elena’s wrist, her mind clicking into place. It all made sense now, the late nights, the sudden trips, the way Daniel had been slipping away like sand through her fingers. She turned on her heel and bolted for the library, opening the door in a frantic manner.

And there he was.

Daniel stood near the book shelve, coolly swirling whiskey in a crystal tumbler. His jacket was draped over the back of a chair, his tie loosened. He didn’t look surprised to see her. He barely even looked interested.

She then noticed Valerie perched on the leather couch beside him, her long legs were tucked beneath her, hair spilling over her shoulder like some perfectly curated fantasy.

Scarlett’s voice was raw with pain. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

Daniel took a slow sip of his drink before finally meeting her gaze. “Because I wanted to.”

The cold simplicity of it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Scarlett turned to Valerie. “How long has this been going on for?”

Valerie arched a brow, fingers tracing the rim of her own glass. “Does it matter?”

Scarlett’s nails dug into her palms. “How long?”

Daniel answered before Valerie could. “I don’t think that is any of your concern.”

Scarlett flinched. He sounded so cold. He had already replaced her in his mind. While she was still kissing him goodnight, still believing in their future, he had already been replacing her.

Valerie strolled towards where she stood, perching on the desk like she belonged there. “He was never yours, Scarlett,” she said lightly. “He was just waiting for me to return.”

Scarlett turned back to Daniel, searching for something, anything, in his face that resembled the man she had loved and trusted with her whole heart. But he was looking at her like she was nothing. Like she was a minor inconvenience he had finally rid himself of.

Then he delivered the final blow.

“This has been going on for far longer than you can imagine, Scarlett.” He said, swirling his drink lazily. “You were simply just a placeholder.”

Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat.

Placeholder.

Her hands trembled at her sides, her pulse roaring in her ears. Valerie sipped her drink, not trying to hide her smirk, and Daniel, her husband, watched her crumble without an ounce of regret.

Scarlett had never felt so utterly, completely discarded. She barely felt her legs move as she stumbled out of the library. The walls of the building blurred around her. Her breath was ragged, shallow, her body moving purely on instinct.

The cold night air hit her like a slap when she stepped outside.

Placeholder.

The word echoed in her head, over and over, rattling inside her like a cruel joke she wasn’t in on.

Her chest heaved as she staggered onto the empty sidewalk.

He planned this since God knows when. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in her ears.

You were just a placeholder.

Scarlett’s steps faltered. Her knees buckled. Then she felt the darkness. The cold pavement rushed up to meet her as she collapsed.