Retribution Of The Divorced Heiress Novels & Stories

She silently yet firmly spoke the word while staring directly into his eyes. “I came back to take my revenge, Rayan. I'm here to destroy you and your so-called family. I'm here to make every single one of you pay what you guys owe me. My father, my child, and my life. I came back to collect my debts, Mr. Rayan Allen.” Anthea’s blue eyes glinted under the moonlight, reflecting her underlying desire for revenge as she calmly yet boldly informed him of her motive without any fear. She wasn't someone who would cower down in front of her enemy. Even if the enemy happened to be her ex-husband for whom her heart still raced.

“Drugging your own sister? Faking a sex tape? Destroying her on the day she stood by your side as maid of honor? This is monstrous!” Her performance is so flawless that sniffles echo around us. “Poor girl,” someone murmurs tearfully. "To be betrayed by her own sister this way." "Always in Elise's shadow," another guest adds. "And this is how she's repaid for her loyalty." "I've heard rumors about the Blackwood heiress," a man murmurs to his companion. "Unstable. Manipulative. The family keeps it quiet." "Jealousy is a terrible thing," his companion responds. "To destroy her own sister out of envy."

His grip was tight, anger radiating off him. I yanked my hand free, taking a step back to avoid him. My eyes moved to her—the woman in the strapless dress who was supposed to be marrying the man who’d destroyed me. She met my gaze with a smug smile, like she didn’t have a care in the world, like nothing I could say or do would crack her perfect little world. It only made me angrier. Turning toward the crowd, I let my voice carry as I swung my gaze back to Roy. “Did you think you could knock me up and then marry another bitch?”

“I am the First Heir. The one who forged the pact between our kind and the darkness centuries ago.” I swallowed hard. This was the name I’d heard whispered in old legends, the ancestor who had betrayed his own blood to gain power. The one who was supposed to be dead. “You’re not supposed to exist,” I said, voice steady despite the shock. “Your time ended long ago.” He laughed, a sound like cracking ice. “Time is a river, and I have merely returned to claim what was stolen from me.” Mira stirred beside me, eyes still heavy but alert. She gripped my arm weakly. “Alina… be careful.”

“Sometimes she remembers me. She’ll know my name, call me her boy, ask about my day. Other times… other times she looks right through me like I’m a ghost. Or she’s terrified, back in the moment they came to tell her my father was gone.” A tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. Immediately wipe it away, I needed to be strong. “This is why the revenge was personal, Evelyn. It wasn’t just about clearing a name or winning a case. It was about the man who caused this. The man whose greed stole my father and shattered my mother. I needed him to pay for what he did to her. For leaving her… like this.” The pieces crashed together. The late nights. The “crush” he visited. The flowers. The secret

Derrick snorted, spiting on my face. I laughed calmly, using my thumb to clean off his spit. Then I suddenly gripped him by the hair, pulling his head backwards. "You seem to have mistaken me for the Elisa Gilbert you know, I'm no longer that Elisa, I no longer have any reason to put up with your bullshit just for peaceful coexistence." I made a dramatic pause with a light chuckle as my other hand pressed the bat on Derrick's leg. "I am Elisa Gilbert, the heiress of the Gilbert's family, there's no need for appearances so what you did this evening must never repeat itself again, we are divorced, you got that?"

"I've been preparing to take back what they stole from me. My husband. My family. My life." I turned to face her fully, something shifting inside me like tectonic plates rearranging. "But that life was never worth fighting for. Stefan never loved me, not really. My parents never saw me, not clearly. Rose never considered me her sister, only an obstacle." I moved to the window overlooking Manhattan's glittering expanse. A view fitting for who I was becoming. Not Camille Lewis, forgotten daughter and discarded wife. But Camille Kane, heir to an empire, architect of vengeance.

He looked down. “I lost everything because of you, Billy,” she whispered. “Everything.” He reached out, but she stepped back. “Don’t.” She walked away, leaving him standing alone on the rooftop, shattered. --- The sound of the doorbell echoed through Billy’s penthouse. Still groggy from a sleepless night, he opened the door to find a plain black box on his doorstep. No return label. He brought it inside and opened it. Photographs. Old ones. Him and Yvette smiling. Laughing. Close.

"For now, it is time. Time to put your revenge into your own hands, time to reclaim everything they stole from you, your legacy, your name, your future, and perhaps, even uncover the truth about your past." He turned to leave, dismissing the maids with a nod, leaving me alone once more with the dresses, I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror, the old Chiara was dead, yes. But Viviana Marino? Viviana Marino was about to be born, and her first act would be to tear down the world of those who had wronged her, brick by carefully placed brick. Tonight, the game began.