All Chapters of Perfect Marriage Revenge : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The silence in the room was heavy, thick enough that a knife could be cut through it. Ronald's jaws clenched as his voice tore through the silent air, sharp and venomous."I don't give a damn about whatever you've planned, Amelia," he swore, his eyes narrowing as he clenched the divorce papers in his hand. "We're getting divorced." And with that, he turned away-a dismissal as cold as the shut door."Ronald…" Amelia's voice trembled, barely audible in the silent night. She took a further step closer, her outstretched hand a pitiful gesture, as if to catch fragments of a world that had blown into pieces. He turned back, slowly, his expression unreadable."What now, Amelia? Ready to sign on the dotted line, or are we going to continue to drag this out?" His eyes, once full of warmth, were now splintered like shards of broken glass cutting through her hope.Amelia's knees buckled, and before she could think, she had fallen to her knees before him, reaching out to touch him, to pull him ba

"Is she ok? I don't think she's going to pull through…""She will be fine, she'll wake up anytime now." Dr. Victoria's voice was strong, cutting clear through the anxiety evident in the man as she quickly headed out of the ward.The man breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness…A groan of pain came from the hospital bed. "Ahh… my head." Amelia's voice was weak, barely above a whisper. The eyelids threatening to stick together now fluttered open, and the blinding white lights overhead made her wince. She blinked rapidly, trying to orient herself.The antiseptic sterile smell and the quiet hum of the machines told her all she needed to know. The hospital. Panic flared as flashes of her last moments-standing by the bridge, the screech of tires-flooded her mind. She turned her head, her gaze falling on the man sitting beside her."Who.?" Her voice trailed off."Easy… take it easy," he said in a whispered voice. It sounded calm and reassuring. "I found you unconscious by the road. You we

The drive to Jake's mansion felt interminable. Amelia sat tensely in the passenger seat, her gaze locked on the rapidly moving landscape outside. The view outside became a blur of muted colors, yet an unsettling feeling of being drawn into an unavoidable trap remained inside her. Next to her, Jake hummed to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern. “You’re going to love it,” Jake declared, breaking the silence with a tone that bordered on arrogance. Amelia chose not to respond, her grip on the seat tightening as her nails pressed into the leather. Whether it was her worries about the future or the burdens of the past that weighed on her, the atmosphere in the vehicle felt stifling. Upon reaching the mansion, she was taken aback—though she would never admit it—by the stunning view before her. The estate was expansive and a striking example of contemporary architecture, with large glass windows reflecting the gentle moonlight. The driveway, bordered

The soft buzz of the air conditioner permeated the room, punctuated occasionally by the sound of Ronald's champagne glass lightly clinking against the desk. The atmosphere was infused with the luxurious aroma of leather and polished mahogany, blended with the faint citrus hints of his cologne. Seated behind his large oak desk, Ronald's demeanor was as distant and impenetrable as marble. A gentle knock on the door interrupted his focus. Ethan Brooks entered, his careful footsteps resonating on the polished floor. Subtle yet alert, his sharp eyes mirrored his attentiveness. “Good morning, boss. Good morning, ma’am,” Ethan said, nodding respectfully to Catherine, who reclined in a nearby armchair, her perfectly manicured nails drumming methodically against the armrest. Ronald placed his glass down with a slight clink. “Morning, Ethan. What’s on the schedule?” Ethan cleared his throat and glanced at his tablet. “You have a nine o’clock meeting with Dr. Clifford, sir. He should be a

The limousine smoothly navigated the vibrant city streets, its dark outline presenting an elegant image amidst the clamor of honking horns and hurried passersby. Inside, the atmosphere felt subdued, as if the vehicle occupied a separate world, isolated from the life beyond its tinted windows. Amelia sat quietly in the rear seat, her posture rigid and her gaze locked on the streaks of blurred neon lights flashing by outside. The silence that enveloped her and Jake was not stifling but rather laden, filled with unvoiced sentiments and unresolved issues. Each passing light momentarily reflected in her eyes, adding an almost otherworldly glow to her otherwise somber countenance. Jake, ever the attentive one, glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “You’re rather quiet,” he commented, his tone inquisitive yet intentionally soft. She blinked, pulling herself from her reverie. “Just… thinking,” she confessed, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. A faint smirk appea