THE REVENGE

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Can you remember the worst moment of your life?

Of course you can.

Lemme guess; you lost your job, your partner dumped you, or you accidentally stepped on a wet spot after wearing socks.

But have you ever found your husband, red handed, figuratively screwing you by literally screwing your male best friend?

No?

That's what I thought.

*

I'm losing my mind. Everything around me is blurring as I slowly take in the scene before me. 

I can't breath, and all I can feel is numbness. It spreads from my legs, upwards, until it engulfs every sane part of me.

I let myself go when I feel my feet giving way, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my knees touching the ground as I lie over my own vomit in a deep faint.

**

I wake up in bed.

I'm in the master bedroom back at Brent's penthouse.

My head is pounding like hell and my throat is parched, and I have an awful metallic taste at the tip of my tongue. Whoever said that pregnancy is a beautiful journey was f*****g lying.

I turn my head very slowly, savouring the flowery perfume that's filling the room, and my blurry sight clears as I focus on the person seated beside me.

Krystal.

She's holding my hand, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, and her eyes widen with undeniable pleasure when she realises that I'm awake.

She smiles sadly.

"Welcome back."

"Water." I mumble.

She reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, and she holds it to my lips as I take hungry mouthfuls.

I pull back with a sigh once the scorching thirst in my throat is sated, and I lie back on the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Everything is rushing through my head.

Brent and Clay....

Clay...

Fuck Clay!

He lied to me. He took me for an i***t. He was sleeping with my husband behind my back.

I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Clay used to advise me to avoid female friends, saying that girls are not loyal. They'll smile to your face then talk s**t behind the scenes. He said that girls are husband snatchers, and they can't be trusted.

So I chose to trust him instead; a man. That way, no girlfriend would break my little heart.

Now see how that turned out for me.

"Why are you crying?" I ask Krystal when tears keep rolling down her cheeks.

She angrily wipes them.

"Pregnancy hormones."

"Really?"

She nods unconvincingly.

"Yeah."

"Why are you here?"

"Brent called me; asked me to look after you for a while. He said he'll be home in an hour. Apparently, you have a dinner to go to at your mom's place."

I had already forgotten about that. Victoria will be having dinner with my family tonight. Tell me one thing that sucks more than that.

"I see." I say simply.

Somehow, my eyes are devoid of tears. The betrayal is heavy in my heart, but it doesn't spike enough emotion to make me cry.

I'm not sad or heartbroken.

I'm pissed.

My hands are literally shaking with rage, so I cross them on my lap in an attempt to calm down.

"Why did you pass out? What happened? I asked Brent to call his doctor to check you but he insisted that you're fine."

"Brent is right. I'm fine, Krystal. I don't want any doctors hovering over me."

The last thing I want is a doctor telling Brent that I'm pregnant.

"Then why did you pass out? Did Brent hit you again?"

"No. I haven't had anything to eat all day. I guess that's why." I lie smoothly.

"Then I'll get you something to eat. What do you prefer?"

I smile politely.

"I'll have dinner at mom's."

"Okay then. If you're feeling fine, I should probably leave. Renee is all alone at home."

"Before you go, do you know anything about Brent's love life?"

She shakes her head.

"What?"

"Brent. Who is he seeing behind my back?"

She laughs nervously.

"I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Of course. I know nothing." She forces a small smile. "Um..I'll leave before Max starts to nag. I have curfew."

"Does Ryder know that you're here?"

She shakes her head.

"Brent said not to tell him. He thinks I'm having coffee with a friend."

"Oh. Can I use your phone? I misplaced mine."

She shrugs before she hands it over.

I shouldn't have flushed my phone down the toilet earlier today.

I know my mom's number off head, so I call her, and I ask her to invite Brent's parents for dinner. She's actually excited to do that. I mean, we haven't had a single decent dinner with his family ever since I got married to him, so tonight should suffice.

"I don't think Brent will appreciate that." Krystal comments when I hand her phone back.

"That's the point."

"That dinner is going to be dramatic."

"That's the plan."

She smiles nervously.

"Have fun. I, uh, am leaving."

I don't even attempt to smile back. My face remains impassive as I keep looking at her. She's so pretty.

What did I do to look like a walking shell, a misfit, an i***t and a fool? What makes me deserve this?

I dizzily watch Krystal as she picks her designer bag and stands up. She's wearing a snug pair of blue jeans, a white tank top and blazer, and unlike me, she's glowing. Pregnancy is doing her a lot of good.

But right now, I don't care how good she looks.

I don't like her.

I despise all of them for keeping the truth from me, for watching me make a fool out of myself, and for pretending to care about me.

Krystal and Brent are quite close, so I'm sure she knows a thing or two about his extramarital affairs. She's lying to protect him.

I mentally add her to the list of people I strongly dislike. The list is not long, but it's ugly enough.

*

I get out of bed, raising an eyebrow to myself when I realise that I'm in a nightgown. My wayward husband actually had enough decency to get me out of my vomit covered clothes.

What a good husband!

I walk down the stairs, forcing myself to stay calm every time a wave of dizziness engulfs me. I can't stress enough how much being pregnant sucks.

When I get to the kitchen, I get myself an apple and a glass of water, then I sit at the island to overthink.

I'm slowly connecting certain dots that have been blurry for a while now. I now understand why Clay didn't want me to get married to Brent, and why Brent never showed any interest in me. Even when we happened to have s*x on those two occasions, he wouldn't look at my face. He'd make sure that I was facing away from him. I'd bet anything that he was thinking about Clay the entire time.

I feel so violated. I was just a pawn to him; a means to an end. He only got married to me to hide his s****l preferences from the world. His parents bought him a bride to cover up for him.

How f****d up is that?

I just happened to be part of the game.

I shake my head as I bite into the green apple. Brent must think that I'm the most stupid girl in existence. I imagine that he was always holding back his laughter when I talked about having feelings for him and making the marriage work.

And Clay....

I literally have no words for Clay.

And Ryder...

Ryder knew everything that was going on. He always hinted that Brent didn't have another woman. He just didn't come clean and admit that my hubby dearest was in love with a man. Why didn't he say something?

"Hey." That's Brent, and he's standing in the doorway. Where is he coming from anyway? I bet he's from Clay's place to finish up what I interrupted; and to reassure him of his undying love.

The mere thought makes me sick in the stomach.

I eye him up and down before I nod.

"Hey."

"Um... Your Mom called me since she couldn't reach you. She said that you two made dinner plans."

"We did. I laid out an outfit for you in the morning. It's in the guest bedroom."

He shifts uncomfortably.

"You want to go with me?"

"She asked me to bring you with me. You're my husband, remember?"

"Cami, I-"

I cut him off.

"Do you have other plans? A late night business meeting in the office maybe? I can let you go if you want."

"I....I don't have a meeting."

"Good. I thought so."

"Cami...I... I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just get dressed. I'll go upstairs and take a shower."

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"For screwing my best friend behind my back? Now why would I be mad at you for that?" I get to my feet and I start to walk out, stopping at the door to place my hand on his shoulder. "I asked my Mom to invite your parents for dinner. I hope you don't mind."

His mouth drops.

"Why would you do that?"

"Your parents are my in-laws.'

"What are you trying to achieve here? I thought you'd want a divorce."

"You said no when I asked for a divorce, so I don't want it anymore. Don't look so scared, Brent. I'm just trying to honour our marriage vows. For better for worse, remember? Till death do us part."

"Cami, I know that I owe you a lot of explanations."

"What I saw in Clay's office this afternoon was very self explanatory."

He stares at me, his eyes full of nothing but guttural desperation.

"What do you have in mind?"

I smile.

"Change into something nice. You should look good tonight; now that your parents will be present. I don't want them thinking that I'm not taking care of their son, considering the fact that they bought me for millions. Oh, and by the way, you smell really nice. My best friend uses the exact same perfume."

I'm aware of his eyes on my back as I walk away. I press my still flat stomach, and I briefly close my eyes when a wave of nausea strikes me.

Tonight, I'll show Brent and company the definition of petty.

**

Fifty minutes later, I'm standing before the mirror. I'm in a dinner dress and flat sandals, and for the first time in a while, I'm wearing a full face of make-up.

As I stare at my reflection, I realize that I can barely recognize myself. The last two months with Brent have been hell, and I look every bit like it.

Thin, pale and ghostly.

And I have no feelings whatsoever.

No, wait. I actually have feelings. Hatred has filled my heart to the brim, and the thirst for revenge is the only sane thought I can hold on to.

Two months of being lied to, manipulated and taken for granted by everyone around me has left me bitter and angry.

And the only way to let it go is by watching all of them burn. Not literally, of course. Burning them literally would make me really satisfied and smug, but I'm not a savage. I just want them to suffer like I did.

All of them.

I feel my stomach over the material of my dress.

Poor, little baby. It'll go through so much toxicity.

I take a deep breath when Brent pushes the bedroom door open and steps in, and I smile at him as I pick my bag from the bed.

The impending dinner better be good to me.

***

AUTHOR'S NOTE(important)

Hello guys,

Welcome back!

The Revenge is the sequel to The Rejection, so you have to read the said book to understand this one. Both books are now complete here on Dreame.

I hope you enjoy reading this book.