"Please, I didn't betray you! I gave up everything for you. Don't I deserve your trust?" Celeste fell to her knees, pleading with her husband, Damien. "My trust? Hah, that's not something I'd give to a filthy slut," Damien said coldly, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. ****** Celeste's world shattered on their wedding anniversary. The man she loved and her dearest friend had conspired against her. They betrayed her, framed her, and humiliated her without mercy. But the worst part? They even locked her away in a mental institution, stripping her of her freedom. What could Celeste do to fight back? She had only one choice—ruthless revenge. "If they dare to betray me, they must face the full force of my wrath!" When Celeste finally let go of love, however,Damien suddenly changed. He pulled Celeste into a firm embrace "I've been searching for you so long. Please, forgive me and love me again!" But Celeste merely gazed at him, her voice devoid of emotion. "That is not something I give to you, my ex-husband."
Lihat lebih banyakDamien’s POVI lifted my glass to my lips without tasting the champagne. The conversations around me blurred into a background hum of empty pleasantries.Fake laughter. Hollow compliments. Meaningless alliances sealed with overpriced wine.I hated this. But Genevieve thrived on it.She stood a few paces away, wearing a luxurious gown, greeting the crowd with her signature smile. Every word, every gesture calculated. Definitely charming. A perfect performance indeed. Meanwhile, I was just trying to keep my temper in check.Another executive approached, all handshakes and toothy grins. I nodded, murmured something polite, and checked my watch for the fifth time in ten minutes.And then it happened. I caught murmurs—words floating in low whispers:“Is that Theo Mercer?” “He brought someone?” “Wait… is that his girlfriend?” “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone…”My gut twisted before I even turned.Theo? A girlfriend?No. That wasn’t possible. I would’ve heard something. The man didn’t
Celeste’s POVGasps rippled through the crowd like a stone breaking still water.For a moment, the flashes of camera phones slowed, like even the press didn’t know what to do with what they were seeing.I caught glimpses of expressions—wide eyes, parted lips, frozen smiles.“Is that her? Isn’t she the scandalous ex-wife?”“Wait, she looks... stunning. But why is she here and why is he with her?”“I hate to say it, but… damn. That dress is a showstopper. Did a designer actually choose her to debut that look?”“Why would a dress like that be lent to her?”The whispers struck like arrows, each one trying to slice through the calm I wore like armor.But I kept walking.I felt Theo beside me like a steady force. He didn’t flinch beneath the attention, didn’t falter under the weight of our spectacle.But the looks weren’t for him. They were for us.Because in the eyes of the elite, in the minds of those who only understand currency in power and status, how you arrive—and with whom—was the l
Celeste’s POVThe reflection staring back at me in the mirror didn’t look like someone falling apart.No—she looked polished, collected. Ready for the world. But deep inside, I could feel it—the quiet flutter of nerves, the whisper of uncertainty that had followed me from the moment I zipped up the gown.This is it. My first real step back into the world.My fingers brushed down the fabric of the dress I had designed myself. Every stitch carried a piece of me—every pleat, every fold, a reminder that I had once belonged in this industry. That I had once been brilliant. That I could be brilliant again.I had sacrificed so much for Damien. And when it all came crashing down, there was nothing left of me but ashes.But ashes could be reborn.I wasn’t going to walk into that ballroom as Damien Vaughn’s ex-wife. I wasn’t going to be the scandalous woman in tabloid headlines or the poor soul people pitied.I was walking in as Celeste Monroe. Designer. Creator. Survivor.And tonight, I wasn
Damien’s POVI sat in silence for a long time, the document still open on my desk, the edges curling beneath my fingers.Genevieve’s name stared back at me, bold and inarguable in transaction logs and email metadata.I couldn’t reconcile it. The woman who had stood beside me through everything and had been such a great friend—why would she involve herself in something like this? Why target Celeste?I groaned, my head swimming with confusion, my heart constricting from the rising emotions. And yet, I couldn’t just go to her—not when she had walked away with that terrifying calm, as if everything between us had meant nothing. Not when she had thrown away her ring and hadn’t looked back.But I could fix this. I could clean up the mess, silence the voices, and push back against the vultures circling her name.I can protect her. Even if she doesn’t want me to.I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting to the edge of my desk—where a photo sat half-obscured beneath a folder.Oh, Celeste…
Damien’s POVThe data was wrong. Again.I slammed the folder down on the boardroom table. "You had one job," I snapped, my voice cold and cutting. "And this is what you bring me? Faulty projections, incomplete charts, and a model that looks like it was thrown together by an intern?"No one dared speak. The room was thick with tension, and even the senior executives looked like they wanted to shrink into their seats.I didn’t care.Because the truth was, I wasn’t just angry about the data.I was angry about everything.The divorce. The headlines. The way she looked at me during that final meeting, like I was nothing. The way she didn’t even blink when she signed her name next to mine. Like it meant nothing.Like I meant nothing.A surge of pressure built behind my temples, my teeth grinding together while silence dragged on. Finally, I straightened and adjusted my cufflinks, dismissing them with a cold flick of my fingers."Fix it. Now."They filed out without a word, avoiding eye cont
Celeste’s POVThe bar was dimly lit and the air was tinged with the stale scent of spilled whiskey and forgotten regrets. People spoke in hushed tones, but none of it registered. The world felt muted, like it was trying not to disturb me.I sat alone at the counter, the amber liquid in my glass almost all gone. It burned going down—but that was the point.Alcohol was the best anesthetic. It numbed the ache in my chest, dulled the sharp sting of memories I wasn’t ready to confront.It's over, damn it. The marriage. The façade. The illusion that maybe, just maybe, he’d come to love me.I had given everything to that man. And in return, he’d given me humiliation.My god! The betrayal and accusations... The imprisonment in that goddamn asylum like I was something to be hidden and left to suffer and rot. I’d looked down at my own trembling hands once and seen blood. My blood. A quiet scream for help no one ever heard.Back then, I promised myself—if I ever got out, I would cut him out of
Celeste’s POV I sat there, spine straight, heart clenched in anticipation.He hadn’t picked up the pen yet. It lay there on the table between us, gleaming under the garden lights, like a sword waiting to be drawn. His eyes flicked to mine—and then, slowly, to the document.I said nothing.On the surface, I remained poised. Cold, composed, detached. But beneath that mask, a trace of nervousness coiled tight in my stomach, refusing to leave. My fingers pressed against my lap, steadying themselves, hiding the tremor that threatened to betray me.He reached for the document, paused, and let his hand hover above it. His eyes moved over the pages again slowly and deliberately. For a moment, I thought he might back out. That he would look up and say he couldn’t do it.But he didn’t.His fingers closed around the pen.And with the same calm finality that once marked the beginning of our story, Damien signed his name.The pen slowly glided across the page. There was no hesitation in his hand,
Celeste’s POV I agreed to Damien’s request to meet, trying to sound calm while my heart beat like crazy. After ending the call, I stood there dazed in the living room, phone still in my hand, the weight of what was to come already pressing on my shoulders. It all felt surreal. Theo glanced up from the couch, concern showing on his face. “You’re going to meet with Damien?” he asked, already knowing.I nodded. “He wants to talk about the divorce.”Theo’s expression didn’t change much, but I noticed the slight tightening of his jaw. “Do you want me to come with you?”There it was—his instinct to protect. He always offered that quietly, never forcefully. And yet… I shook my head.“No. I need to go alone. I have to do this by myself, Theo.”This time, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to trouble him, or because I feared the press would twist something out of nothing. Well, maybe that too. But more than anything, I didn’t want him dragged into my mess.He had already done enough.“You’ve h
Damien’s POVI sat in my office, my fingers tapping against the edge of my desk, a restless rhythm that matched the chaos in my head."Three more media outlets, sir,” Mark informed me. “They've been secretly tailing Mrs. Vaughn… Miss Monroe, I mean."My jaw clenched at the correction. No matter what they called her, she was still my wife. Legally. Emotionally.Mine.I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair, frustration prickling just beneath my skin. I’d given explicit instructions—no more stories, no more cameras, no more dragging her name through the mud. I thought I’d bought her peace. Apparently not.They wouldn’t stop. And I was running out of ways to protect her without standing in the spotlight myself—and dragging her deeper into this endless mess.“The reporters have been dealt with,” Mark continued. “We paid them off to keep quiet.” My head suddenly began to throb. I closed my eyes and waved him away. But I knew.Just like the rats infesting the streets of
Celeste’s POV"Thank you all for coming to our wedding anniversary, but as of tonight, my marriage to Celeste is over. ”Those were the first words my husband, Damien, uttered the moment he stepped into the room. I looked at him, feeling like I had never known him before. Then came the second blow. “I am divorcing her.” There was dead silence.No, my mind screamed. This is not real.It can’t be. My heart pounded violently against my ribs as I forced my lips to part. But no words came out. Today was supposed to be a celebration of our love… How could Damien do this to me?!*******JUST MINUTES AGOI stood before the mirror, smoothing down the shimmering fabric of my gown in the holding room. I was filled with a foolish hope. Perhaps tonight, my husband would finally learn to appreciate me, to care for me. After all, we’ve been together for two years. I had planned every detail of the evening, ensuring that this wedding anniversary banquet would be nothing short of perfection....
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