THE REVENGE OF THE HEARTLESS CEO Olivia Abertton is sweet, funny, and caring, the “apple of her father’s eye,” Ernest Abertton, despite being the daughter of an extramarital affair. Gabe Clifford is the CEO of the world’s largest pharmaceutical company. Intelligent, cunning, a heartless man capable of anything to get what he wants. He spent years plotting his revenge against the Aberttons. She remained kind and joyful, even as everything around her seemed to crumble. He wanted to destroy her to savor every tear of Ernest Abertton, the man he devoted his life to making suffer. She was in love with his brother. He spun the web, and she was the prey. What Gabe didn’t know was that revenge could be far sweeter than he imagined. Olivia, in turn, never imagined someone could be as unscrupulous and heartless as that man. A desire for revenge greater than anything. A woman determined to change her fate. A marriage treated as a business deal. He used her as a tool for revenge against the man he hated most. He just didn’t expect that meeting her would be his worst punishment.
View More“No new clauses will be added to this agreement, Olívia,” I stated firmly, eager to see the disappointment on her face. “I’ll file for divorce,” she shot back, staring me down fearlessly, as if I were just any ordinary guy. “Do that, and I’ll destroy your family. I’ll take the house, the furniture, and make sure no one in North Noriah gives you a roof to sleep under.” “We’ll leave the country.” “I’ll follow you to hell.” “Don’t you have anything better to do than try to screw over my family?” “Oh, I do! But screwing with Ernest Abertton is my favorite hobby.” I couldn’t hold back a smug grin, noticing no trace of emotion in her eyes. “When does the contract end?” she asked the lawyer. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could speak. “It’s a lifetime contract, Stick-Figure! It ends when one of us dies!” I savored the words like they were a gourmet dish from a world-class chef. “That’s not very fair, since you’ll get 20 years of freedom while I’m stuck with you fo
“And the accounts?” “All frozen.” “But the house and furniture are still yours?” “We sold some furniture.” “What?” “For food… and to cover basic bills.” “And basic bills don’t include new dresses for Rose, right?” “Of course not! Poor Rose… she’s been crying for days!” “Is she missing me?” “No, she’s missing the furniture we sold,” he said, chuckling. “And the dresses she can’t buy.” We burst out laughing, but it hit me that I couldn’t get money from Dad to cover tuition. I’d have to turn to my husband. Gabe married me—he’d have to take care of me: college, food, staff, and… well, intimacy! We were new to this marriage thing. I’d have to spell out how it worked. GABE’S POV“There’s really nothing in the media about my wedding,” I said, scanning the screen in front of me. “You were incredible, Ingrid, as always.” “Thank you, Mr. Clifford. Honestly, it wasn’t that hard. Easier than scrubbing some of your brother’s stories, actually.” Maybe Olívia Stick-Figure was right—the
I woke up slowly, taking a moment to register where I was. Oh, right—I’d married Gabe Clifford, a gorgeous man with the most stunning blue eyes I’d ever seen. And on our wedding night, he’d bolted, leaving me to dream about the passionate night that never happened. I glanced to the side and spotted the framed photo of Jorel Clifford and me, smiling happily on a cruise. “It could’ve been us, couldn’t it, younger Clifford brother?” I murmured, tracing his face with its dazzling smile. “I bet we would’ve hit it off. I promise I’ll try not to hate your brother. I swore to myself I’d never wish harm on anyone after escaping hell. And God heard me—He brought me to my father’s house. I can’t break that vow.” I stretched, my eyes catching the ring on my finger. I slipped it off, squinting to read the inscription inside. Just to be sure, I popped in my contacts and confirmed it was Gabe I’d married, but the ring bore his brother’s name. Weird. But if my husband didn’t care, why should I? M
Gabe pressed a button, and the tinted partition lowered slowly, revealing the driver. “How long until we get there?” “We’re pulling through the gates now, Mr. Clifford.” Gabe raised the partition again and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Gabe, I want you to know I like Jorel, but I’m glad I married you.” He pretended not to hear me, but I knew he’d caught every word. The car stopped, and the driver opened the door. Gabe got out first and strode toward the house. I took the driver’s kind hand as he helped me out and gazed at the Clifford mansion—the place where I’d first met Jorel in person, where my eyes had locked with my husband’s for the first time. I was glad Gabe chose this place for us to live; I at least knew it a little. It could’ve been worse—he could’ve dragged me to another city or country. As I stepped inside, alone since Gabe had practically sprinted ahead to avoid me, I saw my suitcases by the door. My hands were trembling. I hadn’t eaten in hours and needed
“Finish this, Father! Now!” Gabe barked. “Do you wish to call it off, Mr. Clifford?” the priest asked. “There’s still time!” “No, damn it!” Gabe shot a glare at my father. “Marry us already!” How far was Gabe willing to go to hurt my dad? What had happened that was so bad? How long would it take me to figure it out and fix everything? As the priest droned on with words that felt like background noise, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my gorgeous husband. I’d always had a thing for beautiful things—hot guys included. I’d never seen Gabe Clifford in a single photo online. I knew he was the CEO of the world’s biggest pharmaceutical company, but I pictured CEOs as old, ugly, and bald. Not this relatively young, intriguing man. “The rings…” The magic word—*rings*—snapped me back to reality. A tall, slender brunette, probably in her late 20s, stepped forward with a velvet pouch. Gabe snatched two plain, thin gold bands from it, grabbed my hand without asking, and slid one onto my rin
As Olívia and her sorry excuse for a father got closer, their expressions shifted. They realized I was standing there, not Jorel.I thought Olívia might bolt, refuse, back out because it was me. But she didn’t. She kept smiling, like this was the happiest day of her life.Her brown eyes sparkled under the makeup. Her lashes were thicker, curvier than the last time I saw her. Her lips, glossy and full, looked even bigger. She could’ve easily looked hideous. But she didn’t… even in that purple dress and absurd green veil.When she and her father reached me, I said, “Surprise! Change of plans!”“No kidding,” she shot back, making a face. “My groom got a lot shorter… and less handsome.”I laughed. I’d break her. I’d make her beg at my feet, cry rivers of blood. And in return, she’d hand me her father’s life.“Good thing we’re a perfect match, since you’re the ugliest bride I’ve ever seen!”“Where’s the groom?” Ernest demanded. “I’d never hand my daughter over to you.”“If you don’t, you’l
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