Zara Wellington, the adopted daughter of the powerful Wellington family, has lived her life as a pawn in her mother's ruthless schemes. Forced to forge and sell counterfeit art to society's elite, Zara complies to protect the family name. But her world comes crashing down when the authorities uncover the fraud, and her mother sets her up to take the fall. On the same fateful day, Zara discovers her husband's betrayal—he plans to divorce her and marry her sister, the real Wellington heir, who has no interest in him. Devastated and desperate, Zara flees, only to meet a tragic end in a fatal accident. But fate grants her a second chance. Zara wakes up a month before her wedding, armed with the knowledge of her family's treachery and her husband’s deception. This time, she vows to rewrite her destiny and make them all pay. Her plan takes an unexpected turn when she forms a contract marriage with Evander Blackwood, a reclusive billionaire with a shadowy past. Evander, uninterested in love or commitment, becomes Zara's unlikely ally. But he’s also the object of her sister’s secret obsession, adding fuel to an already volatile situation. As Zara navigates a world of lies, betrayal, and hidden agendas, she uncovers even darker secrets about her adopted mother’s schemes. Will Zara succeed in changing her future and exacting revenge, or will the forces conspiring against her prove too powerful? Dive into this gripping tale of vengeance, secrets, and second chances to find out.
View MoreEvander’s POVThe weight of Zara’s proposal still lingered in my thoughts as I sat in the dimly lit hotel room. Her revelation about seeking revenge against her family had caught me off guard, but instead of disdain, I found myself drawn to her. In the past, whenever Cassandra spoke about her elder sister’s pitiful existence, I’d wondered why Zara tried so hard to gain acceptance. Yet now, seeing her defiance and determination, I couldn’t help but admire her.That night, sleep evaded me. Zara lay motionless on the bed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. But even in her rest, the lines of pain etched into her features were unmistakable. My heart clenched, unbidden, and an unfamiliar resolve began to stir. I wasn’t sure what I felt for her yet, but I knew I wanted to protect her—to ease her burdens, no matter what it took.Her insights about the future intrigued me. Were they coincidences, or did she genuinely know something others didn’t? I didn’t have answers, but I c
Zara's POV The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating like a storm waiting to break. Disbelief overshadowed his features, and suddenly he burst into laughter-sharp, mocking and utterly cruel."S....orry," he said sputtering, his laughter cutting through my words, drowning out any feeble defense I must have mustered. But as quickly as it came, it subsided, leaving his face unreadable. "You joke too much, Zara."The sting of embarrassment surged through me but I refused to back down. My gaze locking on his. "I'm not joking," I said, my voice steady, betraying none of my tumor" I'm serious."The amusement on his face vanished, replaced by something colder-shock perhaps. He leaned forward slightly, studying me like an unreadable puzzle. "You're serious?"I nodded, keeping my chin high."Why should l?" He shot back, his words cutting. "Why should I settle for the adopted daughter when the real daughter is already within my reach," he said.The words landed like blows l
Zara's POV My throat tightened, as the word settled in. "Divorce agreement?" I echoed, barely recognizing my own voice."Yes," he said, his voice cold and his expression as unmoving as a stone."But.....I thought we had something special going on," I said, my voice trembling at the weight of disbelief. "I thought.... our marriage was going well." Tears streamed down my cheeks, each one carrying a piece of my hope."I don't love you. I never did," he said firmly, his gaze unflinching. "I merely pitied you."“Pity?” The word felt foreign to my ears, slicing through me like a blade.“Yes.” He sighed, his tone laced with finality. “Whenever I look at you, I see myself—a desperate struggle for love, acknowledgment, and acceptance from society and family. But I can’t do it anymore.”Without waiting for response, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there, shattered. My legs felt like lead as I forced myself to move, stumbling out to the pathway.Voice broke thr
Zara's POV "Five thousand dollars," the auctioneer called, his voice booming across the opulent hall. A woman in black sleek gown raised her paddle. ""Ten thousand dollars."Then another bidder quickly followed, her voice cutting through the silence. "Twenty thousand dollars." The crowd hushed, holding their breath as the auctioneer glance around . "Do I hear anymore.? Two thousand dollars for the exquisite Icy Lovers. Going once. Going twice. He let the silence hang, a master of suspense. Then, with finality. "Icy Lovers, Sold for twenty thousand dollars."A round of applause rippled through the room. The Icy Lovers displayed proudly on the towering screen behind him.In the shadows, my trembling hands clutch so tightly to a champagne flute. I had no intention of drinking it- my hands needed something to anchor them, to steady the storm brewing inside me.The paintings on display were mine-every stroke -every details bore the imprint of my soul but the name imprinted beneath, t
Zara's POV "Five thousand dollars," the auctioneer called, his voice booming across the opulent hall. A woman in black sleek gown raised her paddle. ""Ten thousand dollars."Then another bidder quickly followed, her voice cutting through the silence. "Twenty thousand dollars." The crowd hushed, holding their breath as the auctioneer glance around . "Do I hear anymore.? Two thousand dollars for the exquisite Icy Lovers. Going once. Going twice. He let the silence hang, a master of suspense. Then, with finality. "Icy Lovers, Sold for twenty thousand dollars."A round of applause rippled through the room. The Icy Lovers displayed proudly on the towering screen behind him.In the shadows, my trembling hands clutch so tightly to a champagne flute. I had no intention of drinking it- my hands needed something to anchor them, to steady the storm brewing inside me.The paintings on display were mine-every stroke -every details bore the imprint of my soul but the name imprinted beneath, t...
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