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The Setup
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2025-10-02 22:24:04
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The First Wife’s Revenge The Empty Cell
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
The First Wife’s Revenge The Setup
Olivia didn’t sleep that night.Her mind replayed the scene in the boardroom over and over like a broken film reel, Ethan being dragged out mid sentence, his voice cut short, the board’s cold stares, the whispers, and finally, the paper with her name typed neatly as “interim CEO.”It felt like a trap.She had fought too hard, lost too much, to let anyone shove her into a role built on betrayal. Yet the board seemed too prepared, too rehearsed. They hadn’t just moved against Ethan, they’d planned every angle.And maybe, just maybe, they had planned for her too. The boardroom still smelled of Ethan’s cologne. It lingered in the air, sharp and expensive, a reminder of the man dragged away only hours earlier. His chair sat empty at the head of the long mahogany table, the leather dented from where his body had been. Olivia stood just inside the doorway, her chest tight, every eye on her.The men and women seated around the polished table did not look shaken. They did not look sorry. Some
The First Wife’s Revenge The Lockdown
The boardroom was so quiet. A cold place, sharp edges and hard light. Ethan moved like he owned every corner of it, his voice deep and commanding as he explained the numbers glowing on the wide screen.“Q3 projections are strong,” he said, tapping the chart. “Expansion is possible. We survived worse storms than this. What matters now is loyalty, trust in this room. If we fracture, the company dies.”His presence filled the space, the way it always did. Ethan Henderson, never looked weak. He never bent.Olivia sat near the end of the long polished table, her hands clasped tight in her lap. Her wedding band cut into her finger from how hard she was squeezing. She hated these meetings. She hated the way the board members glanced at her, then away, as if she were only furniture in Ethan’s shadow.But today something was different. She could feel it. The air felt thicker, heavier. The people around the table weren’t leaning in with respect. They weren’t listening. Their eyes flickered like
The First Wife’s Revenge The Woman In The Glass
Olivia could not sleep after the words appeared on her window.YOU MADE ME UP..They glowed in the moonlight like a scar. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass, searching the yard below for a sign of Jessica. But the night was empty, no figure, no sound, only shadows that swayed with the trees.Her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. Maybe Jessica had been there. Maybe she hadn’t. The lipstick writing was proof, but proof of what? Jessica’s presence? Or her own fractured mind?She whispered to herself, “I didn’t make her up. I didn’t.” But even as she said it, she felt the doubt spread through her like smoke.The next morning, she wiped the words from the glass, but the faint red smear stayed no matter how hard she scrubbed. Ethan found her on her knees, nails raw from scratching at the windowpane.He crouched beside her, his voice quiet. “What are you doing?”She didn’t look at him. “She wrote it. She’s taunting me.”Ethan took her hands, turning them over, examining the
The First Wife’s Revenge The Unreliable One
Olivia sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the shadows moving across the walls. They seemed alive, stretching long fingers toward her. She pressed her hands to her temples. The laughter from the night before still rang in her ears, Jessica’s voice, taunting, echoing through the house. But when she and Ethan searched the rooms, there had been no one there. No broken locks. No sign of an intruder.So had it happened? Or had her mind invented it?Her breath came fast. She dug her nails into her palms until it hurt. Pain grounded her, reminded her she was still real, still present. But the doubt crept in again, whispering, “What if you are the unreliable one?”The thought wouldn’t leave.The manuscript lay on the desk where she had left it, its pages crumpled, stained with sweat and fingerprints. Olivia forced herself to pick it up, flipping through. The story she was writing looked less like fiction every day. Ethan’s character, Jessica’s shadow, the twisted games, it was all too clos
The First Wife’s Revenge Tangled In Desire
Olivia could barely breathe as she sat at her desk, staring at the half finished manuscript that had started to look more like a confession than a novel. The pages smelled of ink, sweat, and fear. Every sentence she wrote about Ethan and Jessica felt like a razor cutting closer to bone. The danger wasn’t only outside anymore, it was inside her own words.Her hands trembled. She slammed the laptop shut. She couldn’t keep writing. But she couldn’t stop either. Each time she put the story aside, something in the house shifted, footsteps where none should be, shadows that lingered longer than natural, whispers at the edges of silence. The line between the book she was writing and the life she was living blurred more every day.Ethan appeared in the doorway, his shirt half buttoned, his face pale but his eyes burning with some need she couldn’t name. “You’re still at it?” His voice was soft but sharp, like velvet covering steel.Olivia stood quickly, defensive. “I’m trying to make sense of
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