After Divorce, The Heiress Decides to Revenge

Vera's POV

Georgina and I were supposed to stay low-key—no names, no dramas. That plan? Out the window.

So much for a chill afternoon.

Georgina, who's been running the show her whole life, didn't even flinch.

"And who do you think you are, barking orders? The only thing that reeks here is your attitude."

The woman looked like she might combust, but Georgina didn't even give her the time of day. She turned to me.

"Vera, let's swim. She's not worth it. When we get back, I'll go with you to ask Derrick what the hell's going on."

That hit a nerve. Being ignored? Not her vibe. Her face went tomato-red—then she grinned.

"Cool. You love the water so much? Stay in it. Don't come out."

Then she pulled out her phone and made a call.

A guy rushed over, way too eager. "Rosalie, what's up? You want a swim lesson or something?"

She pointed straight at us, smiling like a straight-up villain. "Dmitry, teach these clueless women a lesson."

He got it instantly. "Relax. I'm a swim coach. I know exactly how to mess with people in the water."

He dove in. Before we could blink, he shoved Georgina's head under.

She was older, no match for his strength. She started choking, fighting hard to get up.

I panicked and lunged at him, but he was faster. Suddenly I was underwater too, gagging on chlorine and fear.

I grabbed his arm and bit down. Hard.

He let go. Finally.

I yanked Georgina up fast. She was coughing like crazy—eyes rolling, chest heaving, gasping like she couldn't breathe.

This woman built the Solenne Hotel empire from the ground up. People snapped to attention when she walked in.

Now here she was, dragged through pool water like nothing.

Georgina barked, "You could've killed someone! You're insane. My lawyers will bury you."

Rosalie just laughed. "So what? Drop dead. My husband owns hundreds of hotels. What he makes in a day could buy your entire sad little bloodline. Lawyers? Please. You even got one?"

This was one of the hotels Georgina had handed Derrick to manage. And Rosalie? She acted like she ran the whole empire.

My stomach flipped.

Did Derrick seriously have a second wife?

I rubbed Georgina's back, trying to steady her, then looked Rosalie dead in the eye. "Your husband—his name Derrick Hart?"

She tilted her chin, all smug. "That's right. At least you know who you're dealing with. Now, if you get on your knees, say sorry, and scrub this pool clean, maybe I'll let you off easy. If not—wait till he gets here. You'll regret it."

My chest went numb.

Derrick—the man who promised forever—had he really done this?