I woke to swollen eyes and a relentless headache pounding through my skull. The heaviness of last night’s betrayal weighed down on my chest. With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone and dialed Harold’s number. No response. I tried again. Still silence.

Maybe there was hope. Maybe we could fix this mess. Perhaps I was rushing by calling my mom. What if, once he knew I’d uncovered everything, he’d choose me? Or maybe I was fooling myself.

I exhaled sharply and wiped my face. Enough. I’d already made up my mind. His refusal to answer when I needed him most was proof—I wasn’t important to him. I had seen it before: how quickly he dropped everything when Kate called, even if we were in the middle of something. I’d convinced myself it was nothing. But now, I knew the truth. It was everything.

I stopped dialing his number. Slipping on my coat, I headed for the hospital. It was time to end this before he destroyed me any further.

The antiseptic scent hit me as I entered. My steps were steady, head held high as I pushed forward.

Then I spotted them—Kate and Harold. Together. That explained the unanswered calls.

Kate clung to his arm, her body turned toward him as if he were her whole world. He leaned in, whispering something that made her laugh softly. Her hand rested possessively on her belly.

Harold’s gaze was tender and focused—the way he used to look at me—but now, all his attention was on her.

My breath caught.

Sensing my presence, Kate was the first to turn. Her eyes locked on mine, a flicker of something I couldn’t read crossing her face. Then, a slow, practiced smile—a mix of feigned sympathy and quiet triumph.

Harold followed her gaze, his body tensing the moment he saw me. Shock flashed across his features, followed by something else—guilt? Annoyance? Whatever it was, he quickly masked it.

I felt rooted to the spot, like the walls were closing in.

Kate spoke first. “Pam? What are you doing here? You should’ve called Harold if you weren’t feeling well.”

I kept my expression blank. “He didn’t pick up.”

Finally, Harold looked at me. “Oh, my phone died. I would’ve come if I’d known. What’s wrong, babe?”

I nodded weakly. “Nothing serious. Just needed some medicine.”

Harold gestured toward Kate. “I’m here with her for her prenatal appointment. It’s for my brother—Mom asked me to come.”

I forced a smile. “Of course. Family comes first.”

“Let’s talk later,” he said quietly, not letting go of Kate’s hand. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I didn’t reply. I turned away, pretending not to hear. As they disappeared into the doctor’s office, I stayed frozen.

Then a voice floated out from inside.

“The baby is perfectly healthy.”

Harold’s response was immediate. “Thank God. I want everything to be perfect for our baby.”

Our baby. It was supposed to be his brother’s child—but now I wondered if it really was.

I walked away. That was it. The breaking point. There was no way I’d let him keep tearing me apart.

An hour later, the procedure was done. The baby was gone. A pang of sadness and guilt hit me, but I knew it was for the best. I couldn’t bring a child into a world where its father had betrayed me so deeply.

Though exhausted and still weak, I chose to go home. I sat in the back of the taxi, staring blankly at my reflection in the window. Hollow. Empty. All my tears were spent. All I had left was a plan.

By the time I reached my building, my mind was set on one thing—leaving. Closing this chapter for good.

Then I saw him. Harold, speaking with a man in the shadows of the alley behind the building. The figure looked familiar, and the tone of their conversation sent chills down my spine.

I slipped behind a parked car, straining to listen.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away?” Harold’s voice was cold, cutting. “Haven’t I paid you enough already?”

The man scoffed. “Not nearly. If you stop the payments, everyone will find out you planned your brother’s accident.”

My breath caught. He had killed his own brother?

Harold tensed. “Lower your voice.”

“Then keep the money coming.”

I stumbled back, heart pounding. Harold—liar, manipulator, murderer. How could I have loved someone like this?

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, whispering into it. “I need you to look into Jason’s accident. Get me every detail you can find.”

I passed through the grand entrance of our estate, the weight of the day settling on my shoulders. Today was the day I would meet the man I was about to marry.

Not Harold, though I hadn’t called off our wedding yet. No, that would be far too simple. I wanted him to stand at the altar, waiting in humiliation before everyone, only to find out I had already wed someone else. A ruthless end for the man who had deceived me for so long.

As I stepped into the living room, I froze.

There he was—a tall man seated on the couch, one leg casually crossed over the other, exuding an air of ease and authority. His sharp, chiseled face was even more striking than I remembered, his intense eyes studying me with a look I couldn’t read but found oddly familiar.

Gavion Smith.

Harold’s childhood rival turned enemy. The man who had always been his equal, challenging him at every turn. The man I once secretly admired before making the worst choice of my life—choosing Harold instead.

I took a sharp breath, a sly smile tugging at my lips. Perhaps this wasn’t a mistake after all.

My mother cleared her throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’ve finally arrived,” she said warmly. “This is Gavion Smith. He’s the man I’ve been hoping you’d marry all along. This union will benefit both families,” she added firmly. “But I won’t force you. Your happiness matters most.”

My happiness. How ironic. I had spent years believing I was happy with Harold, blinded by the illusion of love, only to be used and discarded. Now, I wasn’t chasing happiness—I was seeking justice.

I met Gavion’s gaze steadily. “I’ll do it.”

A faint smirk played on his lips. “No second thoughts?”

I shrugged casually, hiding the storm inside. “It’s a smart move.”

He leaned in, eyes sharp. “And revenge? Is that what this is about? What Harold did to you?”

I didn’t blink. He saw right through me. “If you want to call it that.” I tilted my head. “Does it bother you?”

His eyes darkened, amusement fading into something more serious. “Not at all,” he said after a pause. “I like a woman who knows exactly what she wants.”

There was a silent understanding between us—a flicker of respect, perhaps.

My mother exhaled, relief evident in her voice. “Then it’s settled.” She smiled, though it was cautious. “Just be sure, Pam. If you want to back out—”

“I won’t,” I interrupted firmly. “I know what I’m doing, Mom. Love isn’t what I need. I want revenge. Harold betrayed me. He deserves to feel my wrath.”

Gavion studied me carefully, then smirked. “This will be interesting.”

I returned the smile, cold and calculated. “I’m counting on it.”

I laid out the plan—the wedding, the public humiliation, the final blow to Harold. They listened quietly, then the conversation shifted to wedding details and business. Suddenly, one of the staff entered with a folder and handed it to me.

As I opened it, my breath caught. The documents revealed Harold had erased all footage from the accident. It wasn’t an accident after all. He had planned it.

Worse still, the child Kate carried wasn’t Jason’s—it was Harold’s. They’d been having an affair all along. A secret scandal.

My jaw tightened, the papers crinkling under my grip. They’d been manipulating me the whole time.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Kate—the grieving fiancée—was a liar. And Harold? A killer.

I took a steadying breath. This was beyond betrayal. This was war.

I met Gavion’s eyes again. “Change of plans,” I said quietly, sliding the folder toward him.

He scanned the papers, raising his eyebrows before his face hardened. “Now, this is getting interesting.” His tone was calm but edged with something fierce.

I smirked. “Let’s take him down.”

Later that night, I returned home, masking everything, pretending ignorance.

Then I saw her—Kate—standing before the mirror, twirling in my wedding dress, the delicate lace flowing around her.

Harold stood close, smiling softly at her. A knot of rage twisted inside me—not heartbreak, but cold fury.

Kate spun around, startled. Guilt flushed her cheeks, quickly replaced by a forced smile. “Pam… I—I just wanted to try it on,” she stammered. “I never got to when Jason… died.”

I tilted my head, lips curling into something almost like a smile. “Go ahead. Try it.”

Her eyes widened, surprise flickering. I added, with a fake sweetness, “If you want, you can even have Harold as your groom, since you seem to want him all to yourself.”

The atmosphere shifted. Her smile faltered, crumbling as tears welled in her eyes.

Harold turned sharply to me, his face darkening. “Pam, what’s wrong with you?” he snapped. “Kate’s pregnant. She’s sensitive. Don’t say things like that.”

I scoffed. “Oh, right. Because she’s pregnant.” I crossed my arms, eyes locked on his. “Why don’t you just marry her, then? It sure seems like you’ve been hiding a lot.”

His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. Without warning, his hand shot out and slapped my face.

I stepped outside, the sharp sting on my cheek barely registering. I didn’t care anymore—I was finished with all of it.

“Pam, wait!” Harold called desperately from behind me. He hurried to catch up, grabbing my wrist firmly. “Where are you going?”

I yanked my arm free and shot him a cold glare. “Far away from you.”

He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. You always do. You twist everything in your mind.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “Twist things? You slapped me, Harold.”

His jaw clenched tightly. “I—I didn’t mean to. You just—God, you frustrate me so much sometimes. You say things without thinking, accusing me of things that aren’t true.”

I crossed my arms. “Not true? You think I don’t notice how you act around Kate? The way she looks at you? How she was in my wedding dress today like some—” I exhaled bitterly. “Never mind.”

Harold sighed heavily, clearly exasperated. “You’re making this into something it’s not. Kate’s Jason’s fiancée. I have a responsibility to care for her. That’s it. She’s grieving.”

I stared him down without blinking. “You don’t treat a grieving fiancée like that. You treat her like—” I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Like she belongs to you.”

His lips parted but he stayed silent. That silence spoke volumes.

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me cold. “You know what? Maybe this is your fault.”

I froze and slowly faced him again. “What?”

His eyes darkened. “You’ve been distant. Cold. Always assuming the worst of me. It’s like you want to push me away.”

I clenched my fists tightly. “I didn’t push you away, Harold. You did that yourself.”

His expression flickered—anger, guilt, frustration—and he shook his head. “I love you, Pam. I just… I got caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have.”

He reached for me once more, but I stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly. “Let’s just forget this ever happened. Let’s fix this.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding wildly. Then I exhaled and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Relief washed over his face. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” I forced a small, empty smile. “Just leave me alone, Harold.”

In the days that followed, Harold tried to make amends—flowers, texts, apologies, hollow gestures.

But I saw through it all. Behind my back? He was still with Kate, whispering to her, smiling at her, touching her.

It didn’t matter anymore. The wedding was happening today. Everything was ready.

I sat before the mirror, perfectly composed as the makeup artist applied the last touches. My wedding gown was breathtaking—a flawless blend of grace and beauty.

Harold knocked and stepped inside. “You look stunning.”

I turned and offered him a faint, unreadable smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m heading to the venue first,” he said, glancing back. Behind him stood Kate, dressed in white. White, as if she were a bride, too.

I said nothing, just nodded.

Harold hesitated. “I’ll see you soon.”

He left with Kate trailing behind. I exhaled deeply and turned back to my reflection. Then, gathering my dress, I walked out—straight to the waiting limousine.

Not to Harold’s wedding. To my own, with Gavion.

Minutes later, my phone buzzed. Harold.

I ignored it. Another call came, then another.

I sat in the bridal suite until a knock on the door steadied my nerves. “It’s time.”

I stood, smoothed my dress, and walked out with my chin raised. The venue was not the one Harold expected—it was grand, elegant, filled with people who knew the truth and supported my choice. None of them were his. He had no control here.

As I reached the entrance, the soft music shifted.

Gavion waited at the aisle’s end, impeccably dressed in black. His expression was unreadable but carried a hint of amusement—he savored this moment, knowing Harold, his fiercest rival, was about to suffer a defeat beyond repair.

My phone buzzed again—Harold. I didn’t even glance at it. Instead, I met Gavion’s eyes and took my first step forward. By the time I reached the altar, my heart was steady, calm, ready.

Gavion smirked as he extended his hand. The officiant began speaking, but my attention drifted—imagining Harold’s realization that I was gone, the panic rising inside him.

My phone vibrated once more. Harold. Ignored again.

The vows were exchanged, the rings slid on fingers, and the officiant pronounced us husband and wife. I released a slow breath.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone.

Sent.

A single photo—Gavion and me, married, standing side by side.

The response was instant. My phone rang again. Harold. I smirked and opened our messages instead.

I typed in French: You can’t fool me anymore. I know you married Kate at the civil registry. Go ahead and marry her again—after all, you’re the father of her child, right?

Then, delivering the final blow, I added: I also know what you did to your brother.

I blocked him.

And with that, I turned away, slipping my hand confidently into Gavion’s arm.