All Chapters of The First Wife’s Revenge : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The courtroom felt colder the moment Jessica finished her statement, like someone had opened a door to an Arctic void. Olivia didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t give the prosecution the satisfaction of seeing even one ounce of shock.She knew Jessica played war like a strategist, not a witness. Every word was a calculated bullet meant to pierce public perception. But Olivia was done absorbing hits.Today, she was firing back.The judge nodded at her attorney. “Defense, your witness.”Her attorney stood, adjusting his tie like a man preparing to walk into a burning building.Jessica folded her hands neatly. Innocent. Composed. Serpentine.He walked forward. “Mrs. Rivers, you said you saw my client kill Marcus Vale. Where were you standing during this supposed event?”Jessica smiled. “Far enough to stay safe. Close enough to see everything.”“Define ‘close enough.’”“Within the property.”“That is not specific.”Jessica shrugged. “Vision is subjective. Memory, too.”Olivia caught the tic

The news broke before sunrise.Olivia has been released, Olivia woke in the safehouse conference room, still sitting upright in a leather chair, her head heavy from hours of reviewing files, statements, and encrypted notes. Her laptop screen glowed with a new headline that stretched across every major outlet, ETHAN HENDERSON LINKED TO INTERNATIONAL FEMALE FRONT SYNDICATEBelow it, photo after photo, Ethan shaking hands with politicians, Ethan smiling at charity galas, Ethan with Jessica on his arm, Ethan at the Blood Wedding.And worst of all, Ethan with her.Olivia.Framed as Wife Number One.Her stomach twisted, but she stayed still. Breathing slow. Strategic.She clicked the video.An FBI investigator stood behind a podium. “We have reason to believe Ethan Henderson participated in a multi layered financial operation using wives and fiancées as corporate fronts. Shell companies, real estate transfers, identity laundering, internal siphoning.”The reporter asked, “How many women

Olivia Monroe had survived trials, fights, betrayals, assassinations, and public crucifixion, but nothing unnerved her like the sensation of being watched.It began quietly.A reflection in a shop window as she exited her building.A flash of movement behind a pillar outside Monroe Atelier headquarters.A shadow stepping back the moment she turned.At first, she assumed it was a journalist.Or a private investigator hired by Ethan’s remaining allies.Or one of the cult’s silent operatives testing boundaries.But then she saw her.A girl, small.Maybe seven.Hair dark like Olivia’s.Eyes too observant for her age.A face that hit Olivia’s chest with a kind of brutal recognition she couldn’t explain.The first sighting lasted two seconds.The second lasted five.The third felt like an eternity.Olivia stepped out of her SUV one morning and froze.The girl stood across the street, half hidden behind a traffic pole, watching her like she already knew her.She didn’t run this time.She did

The serum hit Jessica’s bloodstream in seconds.Olivia watched the change happen like a slow eclipse.Jessica’s pupils widened. Her breathing grew sharp, shallow. Her fingers trembled around the glass of water she hadn’t finished. The air in Olivia’s office turned heavy, charged, like the moment before a storm breaks over a city.Olivia didn’t flinch.She stood across from her, arms folded, heart iced. She had waited too long for this moment, waited through betrayal, lies, stolen children, and a lifetime of Jessica’s manipulations.Tonight, she wanted facts.No more rumors. No more riddles. No more games.“Look at me,” Olivia said.Jessica’s eyes slowly lifted. She looked… undone. Her usual armor, the smirk, the confidence, the unsettling charm, had melted off her face.“Tell me the truth,” Olivia said. “Everything. From the beginning.”Jessica opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Her throat bobbed as the serum forced words forward. This was a truth she had been avoiding for

After what Olivia saw that day, she did not sleep. She couldn’t. The truth serum confession still echoed through her mind like a bell placed right against her skull, Jessica saying she wasn’t the beginning of the empire. She was the product. One of many. Born from a bloodline that had been engineered, curated, and recycled through centuries of manipulation.“Not the first,” Jessica had whispered before collapsing. “Never the first. Never the last.”But Olivia needed data, not riddles.So at dawn she powered through her field team like a CEO tearing through a quarterly briefing. No hesitation. No noise. No wasted motion. She demanded a full extract from the Romanian estate: drive images, server pulls, archived surveillance, medical waste logs, cryptic notebooks, all of it.By 9:17 a.m., she had twenty flash drives sitting in a stainless steel tray in front of her, each marked with the same symbol, Ω; the omega.The end of a cycle.Or the beginning of one.She locked the office door, c