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The Empty Cell

Author: Sueños
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-03 22:16:24

The holding facility didn’t look like a prison. Not on the surface. It was too clean, too clinical. White walls stretched endlessly down long corridors, lined with steel doors. Cameras followed every step, their small red lights blinking like unblinking eyes. Olivia felt them burning into her back as the guard led her deeper inside.

Her heels echoed in the silence. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t eaten more than a bite of toast in the last thirty six hours. But she walked tall. She had to.

The guard stopped at the final door, pressed a code, and it clicked open.

“Ten minutes,” he said flatly.

She nodded, even as her stomach twisted.

The door opened, and there was Ethan.

He sat on the edge of the cot, head in his hands, his suit rumpled, his once, commanding presence dimmed under the fluorescent light. He looked up when she entered, his eyes bloodshot but blazing.

“Olivia.” His voice cracked with desperation. He stood quickly, stumbling toward her, stopped only by the invisible weight of
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  • The First Wife’s Revenge    The Double Game

    Amelia’s ring still haunted Olivia.Same design. Same shadowed glint of black metal. Same pulse of something alive beneath the surface.Olivia didn’t sleep that night. She paced through the penthouse, phone in hand, mind racing through numbers, names, and escape routes. The pact with Ethan had become a trap. Again. And she fell for it again.By sunrise, she’d already made her choice.If Ethan and Marcus wanted to play gods, she would be the devil they didn’t see coming.The next day, she arrived at Monroe Atelier’s private office, her empire in motion. Assistants moved quietly through glass corridors. Her name was on every wall, her brand reborn from ashes. But she could feel the fault lines beneath it all.The cult, the ring, Jessica’s ghost, all connected through old accounts and buried contracts.Every man who’d ever claimed to love her was sitting on her fortune.Olivia sat at her desk, straight backed, controlled, as her chief financial officer, Lydia, placed a folder in front of

  • The First Wife’s Revenge    The Marriage Pact

    Olivia hadn’t expected to see Ethan again. Not after Bucharest. Not after the cult, the ring, and the lies. Yet there he was, standing in the doorway of her penthouse, rain dripping from his coat, his eyes burning like she was still his.The city outside was gray and restless. Inside, her world went still.“Olivia,” he said softly, voice steady but loaded with something she couldn’t name. “You shouldn’t have gone to Romania.”She folded her arms. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”Ethan took a step closer. He looked older, sharper around the edges, as if guilt had carved him into someone new. The air between them tightened.“I came to fix what I broke,” he said.“You broke more than that, Ethan.” Her voice didn’t tremble, but her heart did.He moved until only a foot separated them. “The curse, the ring, the blood ties, the ledger, they’re connected to us. To me. I made a deal with the same people who came for you.”Her breath hitched. “You’re lying.”He reached into his coat and dropp

  • The First Wife’s Revenge    Seducing The Enemy

    The lights of the penthouse flickered as Olivia stepped through the revolving doors, her heels clicking softly against polished marble. Rain streaked down the windows behind her, catching in the city skyline like liquid silver. She paused for a moment, feeling the black ring on her finger pulse, tight and insistent. It reminded her that she wasn’t just here as Olivia Monroe Castillo. She was the Reborn, someone whose past and present had been stitched together by blood, power, and Jessica’s lingering influence.Tonight, she was hunting. And her prey wasn’t just anyone, it was Marcus Vale.He wasn’t just a financier. He was dangerous, untouchable, and tied intimately to Ethan’s hidden empire. Marcus had the charm to seduce, the ruthlessness to manipulate, and the wealth to cover every dirty secret that could ruin Olivia if he wanted.But she had a secret of her own now, knowledge, influence, and the dangerous allure of someone who could play the game better than he could.She stepped i

  • The First Wife’s Revenge    The Hidden Heirloom

    The underground temple smelled of candle wax and rose oil. The walls were smooth marble, polished like mirrors, reflecting firelight that flickered like heartbeats. Olivia stood among women in black silk veils, each holding a golden bowl filled with crimson petals. The air felt heavy, almost alive. Every sound seemed amplified, a breath, a whisper, a step.The priestess moved through the circle. She was tall, graceful, and ancient looking, her voice soft yet sharp like a blade wrapped in velvet.“Welcome, Seeker,” she said. “The circle has been waiting.”Olivia bowed her head slightly, her heart pounding. “I’m here to offer,” she said. Her voice was calm, but inside, she was calculating. Every face could be an ally or a trap.The priestess smiled. “Offerings are welcome. But what you bring tonight is not gold. It’s remembrance.”Olivia froze. “Remembrance?”The priestess touched Olivia’s wrist, tracing the faint scar there, one she didn’t remember getting. “You carry the mark,” she wh

  • The First Wife’s Revenge    Blood Oath

    The moon was full over the Carpathians, silver light dripping over the forest like droppings of mercury. Olivia drove through the winding roads alone, the headlights cutting through fog thick as smoke. Every turn felt like it could be the last.She wasn’t Olivia Monroe here.Tonight, she was Elena Roth, a patron, a donor, one of the nameless investors drawn to the promise of rebirth.The invitation had been hand delivered to her hotel by a man who never spoke. The paper was black, the seal crimson wax. Inside it said only, “Those who seek truth must pay in blood. Sanctuary of the Oath, midnight.”Her pulse hadn’t calmed since.The sanctuary loomed ahead, an ancient fortress half carved into the mountain. Torches flared along its steps, casting gold against black stone. Guards dressed in ceremonial red stood at the gate. They didn’t ask for identification. They only extended their hands.Olivia knew what they wanted.She drew a small blade from her clutch, pricked her finger, and let

  • The First Wife’s Revenge    The Romanian Shadow

    Bucharest greeted Olivia with cold rain and marble light.The airport was nearly empty when she stepped out of the private terminal. Her black coat swept the floor, her hair tied back tight, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. The air smelled like wet stone and cigarettes. It wasn’t New York. It wasn’t home. But maybe that was the point.A driver waited with a sign that said MONROE.He was silent as he led her to a black car. The windows were tinted too dark. The city passed in flashes, neon signs, narrow alleys, old churches. The streets felt older than memory.“Hotel Athenee Palace,” she said quietly.He didn’t answer. Just drove.The hotel was all chandeliers and whispers. Olivia checked in under a false name, Elena Monroe. Her room overlooked the city square, where pigeons scattered around a bronze statue of a long dead ruler.She ordered black coffee and unpacked slowly. Laptop, files, the wax sealed envelope. Then the map, the one marked Project R.There was a note scribbled in Et

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