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หน้าหลัก / Romance / Countdown To My Revenge Marriage / บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

บททั้งหมดของ Countdown To My Revenge Marriage : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

17

Behind the Fancy World

Anne-Marie’s POV, “You look absolutely gorgeous, Anne-Marie. Louis must be taking such good care of you.”I smiled or at least felt really relieved. The makeup artist had done her magic well; not a single trace of the bruise on my cheekbone, not a shadow of the scar that was on my collar from last week’s aggressive grips. The ballroom glowed and had the fragrance of Fleur du Ciel, the signature scent of Duval Scents — my father’s empire, my family’s pride.Two years of marriage. That was the occasion. But really, tonight was about my father ,Monsieur Duval, the man who taught me that appearances must never crack whether I was happy or not. I could not disappoint him. Not now, not ever. Since I had chosen to marry my childhood crush, Louis, I must certainly bear the consequences.“Anne-Marie, ma chère, where is your charming husband?” a voice asked. I turned, barely able to recognize the Polish woman. She was dressed like a queen and was holding a small fluffy puppy that I wanted to s
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Lost everything in a second

### Anne-Marie’s POV,I didn't know how long I was unconscious but I could tell I was in the hospital even without my eyes open. I slowly opened my eyes to see myself in a large room with beeping monitors and wires attached to my vein. I felt pain all over my body that I bet it would take months for me to be fine. At one corner of the room, I saw two males whispering to themselves but I couldn't hear them.“She’s stable now,” one of the doctors said quietly. “But she needs rest. The stress and shock nearly—”“Thank you,” interrupts another voice.I turned my head slightly, and there he is, the man from the party. The one who had tried to save me from the first fall in the party. Although, he looked different in the daylight maybe because his suit was gone and he was dressed in casual clothes. Our eyes meet.“Why are you here?” My voice was barely more than a whisper.He hesitated before answering. “Your father sent me. I'm Leon Rowland.”Of course. My father, I should never doubt how
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Be fine, Louis

Louis Trottier’ POV,Five years later…Après cinq ans, All eyes were on me as I delivered the final words of my presentation. Behind me, the new perfume, L’Âme Nuel, gleamed under the lights inside the box put up for display. There was a round of applause after the presentation which was expected. Delivering speeches that would make people buy our products was sort of my thing. I was the best. It wasn't a thing of pride but I can't help but take all the credit.I was about to leave when my father stopped me,“Louis, A moment.”He stood by the window, perfectly poised in his tailored grey suit. His sharp gaze locked on me.“Yes, Father?”“Have you seen your brother?”The question was unexpected and had kept me frozen to one spot. Éric Cerf was my step brother, his golden son from his second marriage after my mother died . He was the one who’s always been paraded before the cameras, the investors and the world not until the moment I decided to turn the tables around.I adjust my cufflin
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She's my weakness

Louis Trottier's POV,Anne-Marie…five years have passed, yet she looked exactly the same, composed, radiant and beautiful.And beside her, my stepbrother, Éric Cerf who kept hovering around her. He didn't look at me once. Not when I entered, not when our father greeted me, not even when our eyes nearly met during the introductions. He kept his attention on her, his hand resting on her back. The gesture made my blood boil. I took a slow breath and told myself to stay calm. To be the man they can’t rattle with but that didn't help.The servers came with a tray of wine glasses and I took two glasses, gulping them down in a swift movement , hoping it could make me forget about them but it's no luck. I wanted to take a step towards them, because the silence and their drama was already killing me but before I could do that, a gentle hand caught my arm.“Louis,” Isla murmured, her voice low but firm.She looked really stunning tonight , silver gown, hair swept up like a halo and her eyes, tho
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Drama queen

Anne-Marie’s POVI was trying my best to separate both brothers before Leon dragged me away from the chaos. Isla’s voice had turned shrill, pleading for them to stop, but neither cared. “ Come this way, mademoiselle,” he murmured under his breath,I didn’t fight him. I let him pull me through the crowd, through the wall of clicking shutters and murmuring onlookers. It looked terrifying but I was pleased.Inside the car, the city lights of Paris streaked so brightly despite the chaos that just happened. I leaned back against the leather seat, heart still racing from the spectacle I had just unleashed. Leon sat opposite me, his broad shoulders stiff beneath his tailored coat, his eyes fixed on me through the rearview mirror.“ How do you feel?” he asked finally, voice calm but curious.“How do I feel?” I repeated softly, almost laughing. “Still not satisfied.”He frowned, just slightly. “You call that not satisfied? You have both of them bleeding in front of half of Paris. Surely that
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A dangerous Attempt

Anne-Marie 's POV He didn't wait for me to ask him what the matter was as he turned on the television. Mr Marchand-Trottier’s face filled the screen, composed and devastatingly calm. His voice carried that polished authority men like him wore as easily as a tailored coat. Seeing him made me turn red in anger.“Anne-Marie had purposely used my son, Èric,” he claimed, turning a youthful scuffle into a calculated attack. “ She had orchestrated it all, out of jealousy, bitterness, the wounded pride of a woman who couldn’t stand her ex-husband’s happiness. Seeing how happy Louis was, she decided to go for his step-brother causing tonight’s chaos.”My stomach tightened as he went on, publicly apologizing for his son’s behavior with the benevolence of a king granting mercy. Then came the masterstroke, he announced he had personally intervened to repair Louis’s marriage, aligning him properly with Isla, the daughter of a wealthy French family. I had known Isla to be Louis' friend from colleg
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A caring bodyguard

Léonard Lafaille POVThe phone slipped from her hand before the sound of the call ending had fully faded. For a heartbeat, Anne-Marie didn’t move. Then she broke down in tears.I froze, not sure of what to do.In all the years I had worked for her, I had never seen Anne-Marie like this. She was composed even in fury, precise even in grief. Parisian through and through trained by life to keep emotions folded neatly, like linen stored away for special occasions.But today was different, almost similar to the day she lost her child five years ago.“Madame?” I said, stepping closer. “Anne-Marie, what’s wrong?”She didn’t answer. Her shoulders shook violently, her breath coming in uneven gasps. That silence frightened me more than any scream could have. I knelt beside her, careful, unsure where my place ended and my duty began.“Please,” I said more firmly now. “Talk to me.”But she said nothing.My mind raced through different possibilities, who would have called her? Was it threats, black
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Know your status

Léonard Lafaille’s POV,Luckily he said nothing to me and I was relieved , instead he propped against embroidered pillows, a newspaper spread wide in his hands. Le Monde, folded with precise irritation. His eyes were sharp above the paper, too sharp for a man supposedly weakened by illness. The anger on his face was not loud. It was controlled, curated, the kind that could ruin lives without raising its voice. He was a scary man and he indeed passed that fear.Anne-Marie didn’t see it. She never did, not when it came to him.“Papa,” she said, already smiling, already kneeling beside the bed.His gaze flicked past her, landed on me. “Anne-Marie,” he said, voice clipped. “Go fetch my medication.”She stood immediately, obedient as ever. “Of course.”As she passed me, her sleeve brushed my wrist. A small, accidental contact. I told myself it meant nothing. I told myself many things where she was concerned.The door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded much louder than it sho
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Long sweet memories

Louis Trottier’s POVThe next morning, Paris wore its most deceptive calm weather. It was sunny yet there were droplets of rain. Today mattered to me, even though last night was chaotic. I had left the party immediately after Anne-Marrie left. Luckily my father had stepped in to clear the air about what had happened last night or this meeting or further business deals would have been cancelled.Today I was meeting with some perfume investors, old money, sharp noses trained to detect weakness as easily as jasmine in alcohol. I rehearsed my opening lines under my breath, the cadence precise, confident. “Notes of bergamot, a restrained heart, an audacious dry-down.” Even though I had my way with words, I still needed to get this deal. My father was trusting me as he always did. I brought the connections and kept the deals while my step-brother enjoyed the fruit of my labour and the credit.I wasn't bothered, because I held all the accounts and cash. Fame could wait.I had just stepped i
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Shared by two brothers

Louis’s POVÈric picked up the files that were in front of him as he got up to leave the room. He was about to leave when I called out to him,“Eric.” I sounded polite and desperate but I didn't care.He paused near the door and turned to look directly at me. Of course he did. Eric always knew when he was being addressed, even before the sound fully reached him. He turned slowly, expression neutral, perfectly composed.“What is it?” Eric asked.I quickly closed the distance between us. “Why are you doing this?”Eric frowned, as though genuinely confused. “I don’t understand the question.”That calm yet so deliberate, controlled gaze set my nerves on edge.I had grown up with it, learned to recognize it as a warning “Don’t insult me,” I said. “What did you have with Anne-Marie?”Eric’s eyes hardened. “That’s not your business.”I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Not my business?” my voice lowered. “She’s my wife.”Eric did not hesitate. “She is your ex-wife.”The word landed clean
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