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All Chapters of 90 Days Before The Apocalypse I Chose Revenge : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

25 Chapters

CHAPTER 1: THE WARMTH OF BETRAYAL

The cold didn’t just freeze my skin—it crushed my bones.In my final moments, I couldn’t feel my hands. I couldn’t feel my feet. The temperature inside the abandoned shelter had plummeted to sixty below zero, and every shallow breath leaving my lungs turned to shards of ice before hitting the concrete floor.Through cracked, frosted eyelashes, I forced myself to look up at the two people huddled around the small battery-powered heater. It was the last heat source left in a dead world."Please..." My voice came out as a ragged, agonizing scrape. "Just... ten minutes near the coils. My legs..."Julian didn't even turn around. My fiancé—the man whose business empire I had built with my own sweat, capital, and family connections—simply pulled his down jacket tighter around his shoulders. The high-grade thermal coat I had bought for him with my last remaining savings."There's only enough power left for two people, Evie," Julian said smoothly. His tone was utterly devoid of the warmt

Last Updated : 2026-09-21

CHAPTER 2: THE SHEEP'S CLOTHING

The heat outside my penthouse windows was suffocating, but inside my chest, the cold phantom memory of dying at minus sixty degrees kept my mind dangerously sharp.Julian thought he was the master puppeteer, pulling my strings while Clara and Beatrice enjoyed the luxury of my family’s wealth. To keep them completely confident in their control, I needed to play the devoted, brainless heiress to perfection.At 10:00 AM, my penthouse doorbell rang.I took a deep breath, forcing my tense shoulders to drop, and deliberately loosened a few strands of hair around my face to look slightly flustered and unwell. When I opened the door, Clara stood on the threshold, dressed in a pastel designer suit, holding two iced lattes."Evie!" Clara squealed, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation and tossing her luxury handbag onto my leather sofa. "Julian told us you had a little dizzy spell this morning. Are you okay, sweetie? You look so pale!"Sweetie.Hearing that voice—the same voi

Last Updated : 2026-09-21

CHAPTER 3: THE FOUNDATION IN THE GRANITE

The industrial district of the northern port smelled of ozone, scorching asphalt, and hot metal.While high society downtown melted under the 112-degree heat, workers along the concrete docks were already stripping off their shirts, complaining about the strange, heavy static hanging in the air. On the radio in my SUV, another broadcast crackled through the speakers:"...meteorologists remain baffled by the rapid magnetic flux registered along the northern tectonic line. While temperatures break historic highs, atmospheric pressure readings are dropping at rates usually reserved for Category 5 hurricanes..."I parked outside the rusted iron gates of Vanguard Tactical & Armored Construction.In my past life, four weeks into the apocalyptic freeze, rumors had circulated among dying survivors about a subterranean fortress cut deep into the granite of Mount Sentinel. It was a self-sustaining eco-bunker built by a secretive military defense contractor—equipped with deep-well filtratio

Last Updated : 2026-09-21

CHAPTER 4: THE VIEW FROM THE GLASS

The heat at 2:00 PM felt like a heavy, suffocating furnace blanket over the city.Inside the sleek, glass-and-steel skyscraper of Vance-Vanguard Capital, the central air conditioning hummed, keeping the marble lobby at a pristine sixty-eight degrees.I walked past the front desk smoothly. The security guards didn't stop me. In their eyes, I was still Evelyn Vance—Julian’s sweet, quiet, ultra-wealthy fiancée who frequently dropped off coffee or signed corporate guarantees whenever Julian needed extra backing for his speculative acquisitions."Miss Vance! Good afternoon," the receptionist greeted with a polite smile. "Mr. Vance is in his executive suite.""Thank you, Sarah," I said, giving her a gentle, nervous smile—the exact demeanor of a timid woman who wanted to surprise her hardworking partner. "I brought him a small document he asked for. No need to announce me.""Of course, Miss Vance. Go right ahead."I stepped into the private executive elevator and pressed the button fo

Last Updated : 2026-09-21

CHAPTER 5: THE SNAKE AT THE TABLE

The scorching heat wave showed no sign of breaking. By 6:00 PM on Friday, the temperature sat at a suffocating 109 degrees, heavy with oppressive static. Rolling brownouts had already killed the power in two lower-income districts downtown, leaving thousands of people sweltering in concrete apartment blocks.I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my dressing room, adjusting my clothes with cold, trembling fingers.I wore a plain, high-necked pale pink dress—modest and harmless. My eyes were still slightly red and puffy, my skin pale from the lingering phantom ache of minus sixty degrees that still burned deep inside my chest.Tonight was the dinner at the family manor—the grand home my late father built, now occupied by my stepmother Beatrice, Clara, and Clara's grandfather, Victor Laurent, the retired high court judge who held absolute sway over our family’s legal affairs.They were waiting for me. They believed tonight was the night I would hand over the Mount Sentinel t

Last Updated : 2026-09-21

CHAPTER 6: THE SLAP IN THE DUST

Saturday morning brought no relief from the stifling oppressive heatwave. By 9:00 AM, the temperature had already climbed past 105 degrees, and the air inside the boutique luxury shopping district felt thick and choked with exhaust fumes.I stood outside the marble entrance of Le Atelier, carrying three heavy, velvet-lined dress bags in the sweltering sun.My arms ached, sweat trickled down the back of my plain cotton sundress, and my heels hurt from standing for nearly two hours. But I didn't dare set the bags down on the pavement.Inside the air-conditioned VIP lounge of the boutique, Clara and Beatrice sat on plush velvet sofas, sipping champagne while two boutique assistants hovered over them, holding up silk scarves and diamond necklaces."Evelyn!" Clara’s voice piped out through the open glass doors, sharp and full of familiar, casual cruelty. "Where are the shoes from the second floor? Didn't I tell you to grab the nude Jimmy Choos in a size seven?"I hurried inside, my h

Last Updated : 2026-10-02

CHAPTER 7: THE TERRACE AND THE SCRAPS

The metal handle of the SUV’s trunk was scalding hot, leaving a faint red burn on the palm of my right hand as I slammed it shut. I didn't have time to run cold water over it. I stood there on the sizzling pavement for three seconds, trying to stop the trembling in my legs before heading back toward the dry cleaner’s two blocks away.The air felt like breathing steam from a boiling kettle. Exhaust fumes hung heavy over the avenue, trapped by the cloudless, yellow sky. On every street corner, people huddled under shop awnings, clutching melted iced coffees, their faces slick with sweat.I picked up Julian’s charcoal suit from the dry cleaner. The plastic garment bag was heavy, dragging against the concrete whenever my arm gave out from exhaustion.By the time I reached the open-air roof terrace of L’Orangerie, my cotton dress was damp with sweat, my hair stuck to the sides of my neck, and the heel of my left shoe was rubbing a raw, bloody blister into my heel.Julian, Clara, and B

Last Updated : 2026-10-02

CHAPTER 8: THE PRICE OF DUST

The heat did not subside as afternoon bled into early evening; it merely turned thick, stagnant, and foul with the stench of overheated asphalt and trapped smog. By 4:30 PM, the thermometer mounted beside the marble portico of Vanderbilt & Sons Jewelers read 111 degrees.I stood outside on the granite concourse, clutching Julian’s dry-cleaned suit against my chest. The plastic sleeve had stuck to the damp cotton of my dress, leaving a grey, greasy chemical smear along my collarbone.My left shoe was ruined. The back edge was stiffened with dried blood from the open blister on my heel, every shift of my weight sending a needle of hot, tearing pain straight up my calf. I tried leaning against one of the thick stone pillars to take the pressure off my foot, but the stone had absorbed the sun all day; it scorched through the thin fabric on my back like an oven door.Inside the jewelry boutique, behind floor-to-ceiling tinted bulletproof glass, Clara sat on a high leather barstool at t

Last Updated : 2026-10-03

CHAPTER 9: THE SHADOW OF MONDAY

The sun finally sank below the horizon, but the heat didn't break. Night brought only a heavy, stifling darkness that trapped the day’s desert temperature against the city pavement.Inside my penthouse, the central air conditioning hummed on backup power, keeping the quiet rooms at a steady sixty-five degrees.I sat on the edge of my bathroom vanity, staring into the illuminated mirror.My reflection looked ghostly. My eyes were bloodshot and swollen from hours of weeping in the SUV parking lot. A purple, finger-shaped bruise was already blooming across the pale skin of my right wrist—the exact mark where Julian’s grip had crushed my bones outside the jeweler’s shop. On my left heel, the raw, peeled skin was caked with dried blood, throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache every time I shifted my weight.I pulled out a small bottle of antiseptic and a roll of white medical gauze.When the alcohol hit the open sore on my heel, a sharp, white-hot pain shot straight up my leg. I gasped,

Last Updated : 2026-10-04

CHAPTER 10: THE CORNERED SHEEP

Sleep did not come.By 7:00 AM on Monday morning, the sun rose like a swollen, bruised orange over the concrete skyline. The temperature had already surged past 98 degrees, pulling a thick, toxic haze off the asphalt streets.I stood in my bedroom, my hands shaking so violently I could barely fasten the small pearl buttons down the front of my cream silk blouse.I wore a simple, dark pleated skirt that hung loosely around my waist—I had lost nearly five pounds over the last three days from sheer exhaustion and the inability to keep heavy food down. Underneath my right sleeve, the tight compression bandage bound the purple bruises on my wrist. Under my left sock, the heavy white gauze protected my raw, torn heel.Every time my heel touched the floor, a sharp, nauseating jolt of pain shot up my leg. But I couldn't limp. If Judge Victor saw me limping, if Beatrice saw me showing physical weakness, they would only use it as further proof that I was emotionally and physically unravell

Last Updated : 2026-10-05

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