All Chapters of Ex-Wife Perfect Revenge : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

{Martha's Pov}“Thank you for choosing to invest in Evans Company. I truly appreciate your interest,” I said, standing near the whiteboard at the front of the long table. The investors sat on either side, their eyes fixed on me.At the front row sat Peter, his gaze lingering far too long. I ignored him, focusing on the others.“I’ve reviewed the product and analyzed the potential impact of your investment once again. I can confidently guarantee double your return if everything goes as planned,” I continued, gesturing toward the board displaying the chart of projected profits.“How can we be sure it will yield the profit you’ve mentioned?” one of the men to my right asked.“It will definitely be profitable,” I replied with confidence. “I’ve analyzed the sales data and profit margins extensively, and the results show a strong guarantee of success.”The meeting lasted longer than expected. By the end, Peter surprised everyone by offering to pay more than anticipated. He was even willing

{Martha’s POV}“How are you feeling this morning, my love?” Nathan whispered softly in my ear, his voice warm and comforting. I turned toward him on the bed, his arms pulling me into a soothing embrace.I rested my head against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne, a rich blend of olive and winter. I loved that scent, it always made me feel safe and I've gotten accustomed to it over the years. For a while, we stayed like that, enveloped in the quiet moment until my phone began blaring on the nightstand.Reluctantly, I pulled away from Nathan’s arms, his body shifting as he propped himself up on the bed. Stretching, I reached for my phone, fumbling slightly before finally grabbing it. Without checking the caller ID, I pressed it to my ear.“Hello? Martha speaking,” I said groggily.A familiar, smooth voice responded. “How are you, Martha?”I frowned, struggling to place the voice. “Who’s this?” I asked, turning to glance at Nathan, who mirrored my confusion.“You still can’t re

{Martha's POV}“Are you Martha Stewart?”I blinked, staring at Rachel as though she had lost her mind. Her question was strange, and though it was supposed to make me feel uneasy, I found it more ridiculous than alarming.“What?” I asked with a scoff, stepping closer to her. “Are you confusing me with someone else? First, you came here accusing me, and now you’re trying to connect me to the Stewart family?”She looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. Slowly, she took a step back, her expression softening for a moment before it turned firm again. “Quit the act, Martha. You know exactly what I’m talking about—” she said with an eyes roll. “I know you're her and you're just pretending.”I nearly laughed, but the familiar sting of old wounds kept my amusement in check. Pain from years ago resurfaced, the memory of Rachel mocking me, telling me I’d never be good enough to be part of the Hendersons because I was overweight.“I won’t tolerate another insult from you, Rachel,” I warne

{Martha's POV}I walked towards the elevator in haste, my gaze drifting to the watch on my wrist. I was late, so fucking late, for the meeting I had set to finalize the investment deal.Cherie walked in haste to meet up with me, her brows furrowed and her lips slightly parted as though she wanted to speak but she didn'speak, anything.I could feel her tension, matching my own, though neither of us was to blame for our tardiness. How could we have predicted the car would break down in the middle of the highway? The wait for help had taken longer than expected, and now, here we were.The elevator door slid closed, and I took a relaxing breath, brushing my hand against my hair. As I waited patiently, staring at the metallic door, my thoughts ran an extra mile.This wasn't good, and the fact that it would leave a bad reputation in the minds of the investors didn't make things easier for me.The moment the door slid open, I rushed out again, walking down the hallway towards the conference

Martha's POVI sat at the kitchen island, nibbling on a slice of creamy white cake while staring at my phone screen. I scrolled through one picture after another, my eyes lingering on Peter and Rachel’s wedding photo. In the image, he stood proudly by her side, his arm around her waist, another picture showed them during their honeymoon, laughing under the soft glow of a sunset.I didn’t know why I was doing this to myself. Why was I staring at pictures that should have fueled my anger and resentment? Instead, I found myself stuck, my finger hesitating over the screen as if it would uncover something I was searching for but dreading to find.I took a spoonful of cake, its sweetness doing little to soothe the bitterness rising within me. I kept scrolling, my eyes scanning every image for something, anything, that connected to me. Something within me just wanted to see a picture of my old self, I could remember Peter had taken endless pictures of me. But as I stared at his Instagram no