Todos os capítulos de Revenge Dating My Ex's Brother: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 7

When I caught Paul Belcourt cheating on me, I was wearing a dress my mother promised made me look ten pounds thinner.That was the detail that burned itself into my memory. Not the faint clinking of crystal downstairs, not the string quartet weaving through the ballroom, and certainly not the two hundred high-society guests gathered at the Belcourt estate to toast our upcoming nuptials. In three weeks, I was supposed to become a Belcourt.Instead, I was thinking about the dress. Navy blue. High-waisted. Heavy fabric with tight sleeves, despite the suffocating June heat.Very flattering on you, Melody, my mother had remarked earlier that evening.Flattering was the word people in our world used when they meant less fat. It was the polite euphemism for you look manageable tonight.I had been wandering the sprawling estate looking for Paul. His father wanted family portraits before dinner, and tracking down my elusive fiancé always defaulted to me. After checking the terrace and the libr

The applause hadn't even faded before the backstage corridor erupted into absolute chaos.Cast members wrapped each other in tearful hugs. Stage crew rushed past with equipment and towering bouquets of roses. Someone shoved a cold glass of champagne into my hand, and someone else planted a joyous kiss on my cheek.Opening night at the Ainsley was officially in the books.I should have been basking in the adrenaline, but my eyes kept darting toward the double doors leading to the front of house. I couldn't stop thinking about Box Three."Melody!" Dana, my leading lady, threw her arms around my neck, nearly spilling my champagne. "You were incredible!""We were incredible," I corrected, a breathless laugh slipping out."I saw the lead critic wiping away a tear during your Act Two monologue.""Maybe he hated the stage lighting.""Then he hated it with profound emotional depth," she shot back.I laughed, the coiled tension between my shoulder blades beginning to loosen.Then the heavy bac

Paul called me at eleven-thirty that morning.I let it ring.He called again at eleven-forty-two.I let that one ring too.At twelve-oh-seven, a text appeared on my phone.Paul: Dinner tonight. Let me make up for six years ago.I stared at the message while sipping my coffee. Six years ago, I would have answered before the first ring finished. Apparently, personal growth looked a lot like leaving Paul Belcourt on read.Unfortunately, revenge required participation.Me: I have plans.His response came almost immediately.Paul: The Harlow Arts Foundation gala?I frowned. Of course he knew. Half the city's old money would be there tonight, along with donors, critics, gallery owners, and anyone else wealthy enough to spend five thousand dollars on dinner and call it philanthropy.Me: Maybe.Three dots appeared.Paul: Have a drink with me there.I waited four minutes. Not because I was counting, but because I was absolutely counting.Me: One drink.The response was instant.Paul: Looking f

By ten the next morning, I had decided August Belcourt could reject my dinner invitation all he wanted. I had still gotten his undivided attention.That was more than enough for now.I was halfway through answering emails in my office when Marcus pushed through the double doors without knocking.“Saturday is sold out.”I looked up from my laptop, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Completely?”“Completely. Not a single seat left in the house.”A slow, victorious smile spread across my face. Saturday had been sitting at eighty-three percent before opening night. Apparently, word of mouth was doing exactly what every theater owner prayed it would do.“And Friday?” I asked.“Ninety-six percent.”“Marcus.”“I know.”“Marcus.”“I know!” He dropped into the velvet armchair across from my desk, grinning like we’d personally robbed a bank and gotten away with every single cent.“Thursday jumped twelve percent overnight, too,” he added, tapping his clipboard. “At this rate, we’ll sell out