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The Morning Storm
Last Updated:
2025-08-05 23:34:39
Latest chapter
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
The First Wife’s Revenge The Empire Blueprint
The storm had passed, but the silence that followed was worse.Jessica’s double had vanished as quickly as she appeared. The company, Ethan’s empire was a carcass picked clean by scandal and fear. Reporters camped outside. Investors fled. The once golden name of Henderson Company now tasted like ash in everyone’s mouth.But Olivia Henderson was done mourning what wasn’t hers.She was building something new.The penthouse smelled like metal and coffee. The walls were bare now, except for one whiteboard covered in sketches, dresses, fabric swatches, color palettes, logos. Across the top, in big bold handwriting, she had written, “MONROE ATELIER”.Her new empire.“Minimalism, elegance, rebellion,” she murmured, tracing her finger over a sketch. “No past. No ghosts.”The name ‘Monroe’ came from her mother, someone the world never knew, a woman who had sewn dresses in a small apartment while dreaming of Paris. Olivia wanted this brand to feel alive again, not like the broken corporations s
The First Wife’s Revenge Ghost Return
The office had never been so quiet.Everyone spoke in whispers now, like the walls might be listening. Even the guards who used to stand confidently at the doors now looked nervous, avoiding each other’s eyes.Jessica’s return had shaken them all.No one could explain it. She had been gone for weeks, declared missing, presumed dead. Then she walked into the boardroom like nothing happened, smiling, calm, and radiant.And she left behind a flash drive that had changed everything.Olivia didn’t sleep that night.The flash drive sat on her desk, a small, ordinary object that felt like a bomb. She hadn’t dared to open it yet, not after what Jessica said: Everything you think you control was mine first.It played in her head over and over.Was it true?Had Jessica planned this all along, her disappearance, the chaos, Ethan’s breakdown, even Olivia’s rise to CEO?The thought made Olivia’s chest tighten. She walked to the window and looked down at the city below. The rain streaked the glass,
The First Wife’s Revenge The Power Grab
The news hit like a storm.The board was in shambles. Jessica was gone. Ethan was declared mentally unfit to serve. Investors were panicking, phones were ringing, and half the senior executives were already sending out résumés.And in the middle of that chaos, Olivia stood tall.She had waited for this moment, this collapse that everyone said would never happen. For weeks she had watched the cracks form, one lie after another. And now the empire that had crushed her was breaking apart in front of her eyes.But power never comes free.The conference room looked like a crime scene, papers scattered, coffee cups abandoned, the faint smell of perfume and tension. The large mahogany table had twelve seats, but only five were occupied. Olivia walked in wearing black, her hair tied back sharply, every movement calm and deliberate.“Where’s Ethan or Corbin?” one of the older members, Mr. Greene, asked quietly.Olivia didn’t look at him. “Ethan is not fit to attend, and Corbin is no where to b
The First Wife’s Revenge The Board’s Fall
The storm, chaos and uncovering hadn’t stopped.It had followed Olivia into the next morning, thunder still growling, rain slashing against the city like it wanted to wash everything away. She hadn’t slept. The flash drive Jessica gave her sat on the table beside a half empty cup of coffee, its silver edge catching the gray light.On the drive were enough files to destroy an empire.Emails. Bank transfers. Secret recordings.Proof that the company Ethan built was rotting from the inside.Jessica’s voice still echoed in her head, “You’ll thank me when he’s gone.”Maybe this was what she meant. The beginning of the end.Olivia took a deep breath, opened her laptop, and started copying the files. Not all of them, just enough to expose the corruption without showing how much she actually had. She was careful, surgical. She wanted chaos, not annihilation.When the upload finished, she sent the anonymous tip to five journalists she knew would publish without hesitation. The message was simp
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