The Bitter Taste of Revenge: Deceiving Travis Moore

BIANCA LEWIS

From a far corner of the event hall, I secretly watched Travis Moore. His face was partially hidden behind a phantom mask, but still his magnetic charm was impossible to ignore.

A crowd of glamorous women surrounded him. Each one hoped to catch his attention—including my stepsister, Kitty.

It was her birthday party. A masquerade ball theme.

A smirk formed on my lips as I noticed how funny she froze when she saw me. After regaining her composure, she marched towards me.

"What are you doing here?! You’re not invited to my birthday!" she hissed in annoyance.

Kitty looked stunning tonight, but I could still sense her insecurity. And I knew exactly why. No matter how expensive her dress was. Or no matter how much effort she put into looking perfect, she still couldn’t outshine me.

I had barely arrived, and yet, eyes were already drawn to me—even with my face hidden behind a masquerade mask.

"Our dad invited me," I replied casually, sipping my wine.

"Lower your voice! Someone might hear you!" she snapped, glancing around nervously.

Oh, right. No one else knew that Henry Campbell had an illegitimate child.

"You better get used to it, Kitty, because sooner or later, our father will introduce me to everyone."

"You—"

"Aren’t you wasting your chance?" I cut off her words.

"What are you talking about?!" she asked.

"Why don't you grab the opportunity while Travis Moore is here?

Kitty's face was clearly conflicted about whether she should fight me or go back to him. In the end, she chose the latter. She spun on her heel and walked away.

Honestly, I hated this kind of lavish party. It felt suffocating to someone like me who grew up in a poor family. But when I learned that Travis Moore would be attending, I accepted my father’s invitation right away.

Crossing paths with Travis Moore was the moment that I had been waiting for. He had wronged me—deeply. And he was going to pay for it.

All eyes turned in my direction when I walked past the dance floor. Admiration could be seen in their faces. They were obviously drawn to my perfect figure and flawless porcelain skin.

This was what I wanted—to capture everyone’s attention, especially Travis Moore.

Bingo!

While sipping his wine, Travis Moore fixed his gaze on me. His interest in me was unmistakable.

I made my way toward the exit. I ended up at the back of the event hall where the terrace was.

The cool night breeze relieved the tension in my body. Fighting against Travis Moore was like attempting to knock down the highest mountain. I had a low chance of winning but that didn't stop me from sticking to my plan.

When I heard footsteps approaching, I straightened into perfect posture. I secretly smiled victoriously as I saw that it was Travis more.

"Hi! I hope you do not mind if I join you," he said in a tone that would make any woman's heart skip a beat.

"Yeah, sure. You own this hotel, Travis Moore, so you don’t really need to ask for permission," I replied, deliberately emphasizing his name.

"You know me?" he asked, though he didn’t sound surprised.

"Who doesn’t?" I smirked. "You’re the youngest billionaire in the country. Everyone knows you."

"And may I know your name lady?" he asked, taking a step closer.

I smiled at him, sweet yet distant. "I'm sorry but, I don’t just give my name to strangers."

His lips parted slightly in shock with what I said. He wasn’t used to rejection. I was certain this was the first time a woman had shown disinterest in him.

Yes, I planned to seduce him. I wanted him to fall for me. But not yet. If I acted too eager, he would think I was just like the rest—one of the many women willing to throw themselves at him for a fleeting affair.

I wanted him to be tormented by the thought of why—of all women—I was the one who seemed immune to his wealth and dropped dead gorgeous looks.

Sensually, I ran my fingers along the cold railing as I slowly walked away. I knew it would be a slap to his ego that I was leaving without without even saying goodbye.

"Hey—"

He started to call out, but before he could finish, someone interrupted him from behind.

It was his friends—the elite bachelors of the country, just like him.

"What are you doing here, man?" one of them asked him.

"This party is boring. Let's get out of here!"

"Wait! Don’t drag me!" Travis protested. "I need to talk to her!"

"Who?" they asked in unison.

"Her," he replied. I was sure he was pointing at me.

But all his friends could see was the flowing hem of my dress as I turned the corner.

When I was sure I was out of their sight, I dashed to the elevator. As I descended, I clutched my chest. I felt as if a heavy weight was pressing against it.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to slap Travis Moore. I wanted to scream at him and to tell him how much damage he had done to my life.

However, I needed to suppress my emotions in front of him. I didn't want my revenge plan to be in vain, especially since I had not started yet.

I immediately hailed a taxi after leaving the hotel. I told the driver where I wanted to be dropped off and leaned against the window.

My father was capable of giving me everything. In fact, he offered me the most luxurious brand-new car, but I declined. I refused to accept a single cent from him.

Why? Because if he hadn’t abandoned me, my life wouldn't be miserable.

I hated my father. But I needed him. He was my key to getting close to Travis Moore again.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the painful memory—the one that could never be erased— resurfaced in my mind