Viper's Kiss: A Wife's Revenge

The phone call came on the hottest day of the year. My son, Leo, was locked in a scorching car by my husband' s stepsister, Casey, while my husband, Coleman, stood by, more concerned about his vintage Mustang than our barely conscious child.

When I shattered the window to save Leo, Coleman forced me to apologize to Casey, recording my humiliation for public display. I soon discovered his chilling secret: he married me only to make Casey jealous, seeing me as nothing more than a tool in his twisted game.

Heartbroken, I filed for divorce, but their torment escalated. They stole my company, kidnapped Leo, and even orchestrated a venomous snake bite, leaving me for dead.

Why did they hate me so much? What kind of man would use his own son as a pawn, and his wife as a weapon, in such a cruel charade?

But their cruelty ignited a cold fury within me. I would not break. I would fight back, and I would make them pay.

Chapter 1

The phone call came on the hottest day of the year.

A frantic voice, one of our housekeepers, screamed into the phone.

"Mrs. Clark, you need to come home! It' s Leo! Casey locked him in the car!"

My blood ran cold.

I dropped the presentation I was holding and sprinted out of my office, not even bothering to grab my purse.

The sun beat down on the pavement, a suffocating blanket of heat. My heart hammered against my ribs with every step I took toward the garage.

When I burst through the door, the scene stopped me dead.

My son, Leo, was inside my husband' s prized classic car, a vintage Mustang, his small face pressed against the glass. His cheeks were flushed a dangerous shade of red, and his chest was barely moving. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead.

My husband, Coleman, and his stepsister, Casey Flores, were standing right there, blocking the door.

I lunged forward. "What are you doing? Get him out of there!"

Coleman grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. "Calm down, Blair. It's not a big deal."

Casey, a social media influencer who always looked perfect, pouted her lips. "He wanted to play in the car. I just closed the door for a second."

"A second?" I shrieked, my voice raw with panic. "Look at him! He's barely conscious! The windows are all up!"

"It was just a little prank," Casey said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "He'll be fine."

"The AC is off! It's over a hundred degrees out here!" I tried to shove past Coleman, my eyes fixed on my son's limp form.

"Blair, stop!" Coleman's voice was sharp. "You'll damage the car. This is a family heirloom."

I stared at him, unable to process his words. "The car? You're worried about the car? Our son is in there!"

"Casey said she has the keys and will be right back," Coleman insisted, pulling me away from the vehicle. "She just went to get them from her purse."

My gaze snapped to Casey, who was just standing there, a smirk playing on her lips. She made no move to get any keys.

"Are you insane?" I screamed at Coleman. "Your son is more important than a piece of metal! Your priority is him, not this car!"

I twisted out of his grip, a primal rage taking over. I didn't care about the car. I didn't care about anything but Leo.

I grabbed a heavy wrench from the nearby workbench.

"Don't you dare!" Coleman yelled.

But it was too late. I swung with all my might, shattering the driver's side window. Glass exploded everywhere.

I reached through the broken window, fumbling with the lock. The air that rushed out of the car was like a blast from an oven.

I pulled Leo out. He was limp and unresponsive in my arms, his skin hot to the touch.

"Leo," I sobbed, shaking him gently. "Baby, wake up."

Coleman reached for him. "Let me see."

I recoiled, clutching Leo tighter. "Don't you touch him. Don't you dare."

The paramedics I' d called on my way home arrived then, their sirens wailing. They rushed over, taking Leo from me and immediately starting to work on him.

"He's severely dehydrated and suffering from heatstroke," one of them said grimly. "You got him out just in time."

The words confirmed my worst fears. My rage, cold and focused, turned back to the two people who had caused this.

I walked straight up to Coleman and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing in the garage. Then I turned and did the same to Casey.

"You," I hissed, my voice trembling with fury. "You did this."

Casey's eyes widened in fake shock. She clutched her cheek, tears welling up. "Coleman, she hit me! I was just playing."

She turned and ran from the garage, sobbing dramatically.

Without a moment's hesitation, Coleman ran after her, calling her name. He didn't even glance back at me or our son, who was being loaded into the ambulance.

I stood there, alone, surrounded by shattered glass and the ruins of my trust.

Later at the hospital, after Leo was stable, Coleman returned. He didn't ask about our son.

He stood over me, his face a cold mask. "You need to apologize to Casey."

I looked up at him, my heart a block of ice in my chest. "Apologize?"

"She's traumatized. You attacked her."

This wasn't the first time. I remembered all the other times I' d been forced to apologize for Casey's "mistakes." The time she'd "accidentally" ruined my wedding dress with red wine. The time she'd "jokingly" told my biggest client that my marketing firm was going bankrupt.

Every time, Coleman had made me apologize. To keep the peace. For the family.

"No," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I will never apologize to that monster."

"Think about Leo," he said, his voice dropping to a low threat. "Casey's family is very powerful. If she decides to press charges for assault, it could get messy. Do you want to risk losing custody?"

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. "You will apologize. Now."

The fight drained out of me, replaced by a cold, hollow despair. For Leo, I would do anything.

He dragged me to the waiting room where Casey was sitting, looking perfectly composed. He forced me to my knees in front of her.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

With each word I spoke, I felt a part of my love for him break. Smash. Disintegrate.

Coleman wasn't satisfied. He pulled out his phone. "Say it again. I'm recording this. We need to post a public apology so everyone knows you regret what you did."

Humiliation washed over me as I repeated the apology for his camera.

As soon as he finished, he immediately sent the video to his public relations team, instructing them to post it on all of Casey's social media channels.

I felt sick. I stood up and walked away, needing to put space between us. I found an empty hallway and leaned against the wall, trying to breathe.

That's when I heard their voices from around the corner. Coleman and Casey.

"Are you happy now?" Coleman asked, his voice soft and tender, a tone he never used with me.

"Almost," Casey purred. "But you know I've always hated that she's your wife. We're not even related by blood, Coleman. My mother just married your father."

My breath caught in my throat. Step-siblings. Not by blood.

"Casey, you know I've wanted you since we were teenagers," Coleman confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "But it was taboo. My father would have killed me."

"So you married her?" Casey's voice was laced with jealousy. "You had a child with her?"

"I had to," he said, his voice pleading. "I thought if I married someone else, you'd finally give up on us. I thought it would make you jealous enough to realize what you were losing. But it didn't work. It just made things worse."

His next words were quiet, almost a whisper. "She means nothing to me, Casey. It's always been you."

My world tilted on its axis.

I stumbled back, my mind reeling. I thought back to the beginning of our relationship. Coleman's grand romantic gestures, the overwhelming charm, the way he' d pursued me relentlessly.

It was all a lie. A performance.

I felt a sudden urge, a desperate need for more proof. I pulled out my phone and accessed an old cloud drive we shared, one we hadn't used in years. My fingers trembled as I searched for a specific file-a digital journal Coleman used to keep.

I found it. And I found the entry from the week he proposed to me.

"I' m going to marry Blair Butler. She' s perfect. Successful, beautiful, and completely in love with me. Once Casey sees Blair with my ring on her finger, wearing my name, she' ll have to give up. She' ll see what she' s missing. She' ll come back to me. Blair is the key. She is the perfect tool to make Casey mine."

Tool.

I was just a tool.

A wave of nausea hit me. I sank to the floor, the cold tiles a shock against my skin. The sobs came then, violent and wracking, tearing through my body. I cried for the years I had wasted, for the love I had given so freely to a man who saw me as nothing more than a pawn in his sick game.

But as the tears subsided, something else took their place.

A cold, hard resolve.

I wiped my eyes, stood up on trembling legs, and walked back toward Leo's room. My steps were steady.

My marriage was over. Now, it was time for war.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer. "I want to file for divorce."

The next day, Leo was discharged. I took him back to the house we had once called home. The air was thick with tension.

Coleman had brought Casey back with him. She was staying in our guest room, acting as if she owned the place.

At dinner, she sat across from me, a triumphant smirk on her face. She deliberately served herself the last piece of fish, a dish she knew was Leo's favorite.

"Aunt Casey, that's my fish," Leo said, his small voice wavering.

Casey just smiled sweetly. "Oh, is it? I'm so hungry, Leo. You don't mind, do you?"

Before I could say anything, Coleman slammed his hand on the table. "Leo! Apologize to your aunt! You're being rude."

Leo flinched, his eyes filling with tears.

That was it. I stood up, pulling Leo out of his chair. "We're done here."

I carried my crying son upstairs, leaving them in the suffocating silence.

As I left, I heard Coleman's voice soften instantly. "Casey, don't be upset. He's just a child. Here, have my piece."

The contrast was sickening.

In his room, Leo clung to me, his little body shaking. "Mommy, I hate Daddy. I don't want to see him."

My heart broke for him. I held him close, my own tears mixing with his. "I know, baby. I know."

We stayed like that for a long time, two broken hearts clinging to each other in the dark.

Much later, Coleman came into my bedroom. He reeked of Casey's perfume and cheap victory. There was a fresh lipstick smudge on his collar.

He tossed a jewelry box onto the bed. "This is for you. A little something to make up for Casey's... behavior."

He expected me to be grateful. He expected me to thank him for his "generosity."

I looked at him, my face a mask of calm. I reached into my bag and pulled out a single folded document.

I held it out to him. "Sign this."

He was still beaming, thinking the necklace had placated me. "What is it? A receipt for the gift? You women and your formalities."

He took the pen and signed his name on the line without a second glance.

It was the divorce agreement. An agreement where he, in his arrogance, signed away his rights to challenge my full custody of Leo.

"Just a little something to remember this day by," I said, my voice dripping with an irony he was too stupid to notice.

He just chuckled, completely oblivious.

He had no idea he had just signed away his entire world.