All Chapters of The sweet revenge of a heartless CEO - Clifford Empire: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

GABE’S POVThat woman was a slut, just like her prostitute mother. Not that I expected her to be any different—I never had high hopes for Olívia. But she was worse, far worse than I’d imagined. “If you cheat on me, I’ll kill you! And I’ll dump your body at your family’s doorstep.” “Then your revenge, whatever it’s for, will go down the drain. If you were going to kill someone, you’d have done it already, Gabe,” she said confidently, turning back to her notebook and scribbling away. I felt a slight headache. Yes, this woman gave me headaches. Just looking at her made me feel unwell, such was the rage and frustration she caused. “Don’t play with me, Olívia!” I growled through gritted teeth, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to throw her out of the Clifford mansion. “I’m not the playful type, Gabe. I’m the happy type, that’s all. Do you know what happiness means?” “I knew once… not anymore. And since you came into my life, you’ve killed any chance of me knowing it

“You fired the staff?” “Of course. She doesn’t deserve any privileges.” “Or maybe you wanted to be alone with her, no witnesses?” He smirked. I grabbed him by the collar and stared him down. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest, and then… I realized it was still beating. It was there, in my chest, showing signs of life after years of dormancy. Whether from rage or hatred, I still had a heart. I stared at my best friend, seeing fear in his eyes. I sighed and shoved him away, making him stumble. In all our years of friendship, I’d never done that to Rael. How had I lost control like that? “I’m tired, Rael!” I justified my outburst. “This woman… she’s driving me insane! And no, I don’t like her, I have no interest in her… I despise her, and she’s only not the person I hate most because her father takes first place. Olívia’s playing a dirty game, testing my limits, trying to make me snap… and give up. But I won’t. It took me ten years to find Ernest’s weak spot, and I’ve

As she left, silence filled the room again. I closed my eyes, knowing I wouldn’t sleep with him there, his presence both unsettling and oddly protective. I must’ve seemed crazy, forced to stay with a man using me for revenge against my father while I tried to find something good in him, despite everything working against it. There were so many bad, unscrupulous people in the world—far more than good ones, in my opinion. I swore I wouldn’t spread hate, even though I was born of lust, raised in pain, and shaped by cruelty. “If I ask for one thing, just one, would you do it for me?” I looked at him, the silence between us so loud it bothered me. “No!” I smiled, shrugging. I’d have said the same. “If something happens to me again, could you tell my family?” “No!” he repeated. The door opened, and a server brought a tray of food: a bowl of chopped pineapple, grapes, mango, and banana topped with oats, rice crackers, a glass of skim milk, and a slice of whole-grain bread with light

I’d left college but stayed in the class WhatsApp group. So I invited all my former classmates to my birthday. I was tired of being alone in that huge house with humorless staff who barely spoke to me. Besides, Gabe wouldn’t even know—he was hardly home! I stretched, took a shower, and put on workout clothes to exercise outside. Though running wasn’t my favorite or most recommended exercise, walking I ate breakfast and other meals alone in the kitchen or my room. That morning, as I ate my fruit and oats, I asked the cook, “Could you make some salmon canapés for tonight?” “Of course, Mrs. Clifford.” “I’d also like brie bruschetta, cheese dip, a charcuterie board, grilled veggie skewers… I love breaded shrimp, mini ricotta and sundried tomato quiches… Have you ever made turkey rolls with apricot and cheese?” “No… but I can learn.” “Great!” I sighed, happy. “No sweets? Not even with special sugar?” It was my birthday! One normal dessert a year wouldn’t hurt. “How about cupcake

I stood and took a cold shower. Just thinking of Jorel fucking my wife made me nauseous. I put on underwear and a robe, then lay on the bed, exhausted. It was the work, obviously! I’d spent all day reading contracts on a glaring screen, stressing me out to the point I thought I wanted Olívia Stick-Figure. I’d never been into women like her—plain, predictable, with nothing good to offer. *Just another whore, Gabe. The difference is, if you want to fuck her, you don’t have to pay.* I jolted awake, haunted by the image of Olívia at the bottom of the pool. I got up, raced downstairs, and opened her bedroom door—she wasn’t there. The bed was untouched. Jorel’s face stared back at me from the nightstand, next to hers, like a horror movie frame. I flew down the stairs, nearly falling on the second-to-last step, jumping the last one. The living room was spotless, no trace of a party. I searched every room for Olívia and found nothing. Had she left? Was she in another room, fucking some