All Chapters of Disappeared After Divorce: Came Back For Revenge: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I forced my eyes open to the piercing blare of the alarm clock beside my bed. Shaking off the lingering sleep, I stood up and peered outside. My room sits comfortably on the second floor of the mansion, granting me an unobstructed, breathtaking view of the vast horizon stretching as far as my eyes can see.​I honestly cannot fathom what celestial miscalculation occurred for the sky to look so utterly gorgeous today. Today marks the birthday of my ex-mother-in-law, and if I were the one ruling the heavens, I certainly would not be sending down warm rays of sunshine. Instead, I would rain down jagged glass targeted straight at the mother of my ex-husband.​As I drew the window curtains back into place, a burning question consumed my thoughts: why on earth was I invited to Carlyn Hemswood's grand party tonight? A deep sense of suspicion crept over me. Opportunistic vipers like them never make a single move unless they stand to gain something immense from it. But no matter what, I will at

Carson offered me nothing but a piercing stare, leaving his silence to heavy-handedly deliver the message that he harbored not a single shred of regret over our divorce. Also, his mother, her gaze oozing an arrogant superiority that proved she felt entirely devoid of guilt for the misery she had inflicted upon me in the past.​What else was I supposed to expect? Nothing ever changed with this mother and son duo. Their desires began and ended with whatever wealth they could leech away. Hand them a heavy gold necklace, a deed to a prized piece of land, or the keys to prime real estate, and they would instantly revere you as a living saint. Offer them nothing, however, or fail to produce even a single copper coin, and their eyes would shift to reveal their true contempt for you as a worthless parasite. That was my firsthand experience with those wretched people that no one could ever argue against me.​My memory drifted back to the days when Carson and I were merely engaged. They lived i

When Samantha reached for her left wine glass, she drained the liquid in one swift, unsuspecting swallow. Relief washed through me in a cool wave, every muscle in my spine relaxing as I watched the liquid vintage slide down her throat. I knew the powerful chemical agent blended into the red depths was already entering her bloodstream, ready to ignite a furious fire within her veins.​She set the empty crystal back on the wooden table, her gaze drifting languidly up toward the ornate ceiling before flickering over the sea of mingling guests. I glided toward her with a sharp, triumphant smile curving my lips, my eyes gleaming with raw satisfaction. She was about to endure the agonizing heat of the very same aphrodisiac she had ordered Klint to slip into my glass a few nights ago. Only this time, my retribution was served far stronger, laced with an unrelenting potency that would break her.​"What did you d—do?" she whispered, her hands fidgeting nervously as panic crept into her voice.

Condensation clung to the heavy glass of the mug in my hands, pooling onto the dark wood of the table as I sat alone in the quiet corner of the café. My thumb mindlessly brushed across the glowing glass of my phone, where bold headlines blared in vivid hues, plastering my name alongside Carlyn Hemswood. The media had turned my lavish gifts of pure gold necklaces into a public spectacle. The comments cascaded down the screen in a relentless stream, a volatile mix of breathless admiration and bitter contempt hurled at the Hemswood name. One user went so far as to lecture me through the screen, insisting that a mother who had offered me nothing but cruelty during my marriage to her son deserved none of my generosity.​"You are completely lost in that screen, Miss Lora. What could possibly be holding your attention like that?"​I lifted my eyes to find Scarlet standing over the table, her breath slightly quickened from her arrival. A soft, fleeting smile pulled at my lips as I gestured to

"Did your Dad have an autopsy, Miss Lora? Where is it?"Scarlet’s question hung in the quiet livingroom like a low, persistent hum, coaxing open a drawer in my mind I had locked away long ago."​Daddy’s autopsy." It was my mind.​I could still feel the cold bite of that afternoon years ago, the oppressive fog of grief, the smell of sterile hospital corridors, and the shadow of Carson standing beside me as we signed the official request. But as I clawed through my memories, a sudden realization struck me, I had never actually laid eyes on the paper itself. Carson had carried the envelope home. In the wreckage of my sorrow, I never asked him what the pages contained, nor did I watch where he slid them away.​Scarlet’s gaze remained pinned to mine, unblinking, demanding a truth I didn’t possess.​"Miss Lora," she pressed, her voice cutting through the silence, "was an autopsy actually conducted on your father when he died?"​"Yes, Scarlet," I murmured, the word tasting heavy on my tongue