The Prenup: Her Revenge
img img The Prenup: Her Revenge img Chapter 3
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Chapter 6 img
Chapter 7 img
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
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Chapter 3

"I just need to run to the office for an hour," David said, adjusting his perfectly knotted tie. "Last-minute details on the waterfront project. I' ll meet you at the venue."

He gave her a quick, perfunctory kiss. It was the kiss of a man already halfway out the door, his mind on other things. Or rather, on someone else. The lie was so practiced, so smooth.

"Okay, honey. Don' t be late," Amelia said, her voice a perfect imitation of a loving wife.

He smiled. "Wouldn' t miss your big night for the world."

He left, and she watched from the window as he got into his sleek black car. He didn' t turn towards his downtown office. He turned in the opposite direction, towards the suburbs. Towards Sarah' s new condo. The one he had probably helped her buy.

Amelia' s hand tightened into a fist. He wasn' t even trying to hide it anymore. He was arrogant, confident that she was a fool.

She picked up her own phone. A few weeks ago, in a moment of desperate, paranoid genius, she had installed a tracking app and linked his phone' s audio to a recording device. She had felt dirty doing it, but his lies had forced her hand. Now, she pressed play on the live feed.

The car was silent for a few minutes, then she heard his phone connect to the car' s speakers. A second later, Sarah' s voice filled her ears, as clear as if she were sitting right next to her.

"Are you almost here, baby? I' m wearing that little black dress you like."

"Five minutes away," David' s voice was low, intimate. "I can' t stay long. The party starts soon."

"Forget her party," Sarah purred. "Stay with me. We can have our own party. I have champagne and strawberries."

"You' re tempting me," he chuckled. "But I have to go. It' s the last time, I promise. After tonight, after I get her to sign the papers, it' s all over. Then it' s just you and me."

A wave of nausea washed over Amelia. She had to sit down, the phone clutched in her hand. The casual cruelty of his words, the way he spoke of ending their marriage as if it were a business transaction, was a physical blow.

She walked into her studio, the scent of sugar and butter suddenly cloying. On a cooling rack sat a magnificent five-tiered cake she had spent two days creating for the party. It was a masterpiece of spun sugar flowers and delicate piping. It was supposed to be a symbol of celebration.

In a blind rage, she plunged her hands into the top tier, destroying the perfect buttercream roses. She clawed at the cake, tearing it apart, smearing frosting and crumbs all over the pristine counter. It was a mess. A reflection of the mess he had made of their life.

Her phone buzzed with a text from him. Running a little late, babe. Client issue. Save me a dance. xoxo

She stared at the message, the casual lie a fresh stab of pain. She typed back a single word. Okay.

She couldn' t stay in the house a moment longer. She grabbed her keys and purse and walked out, leaving the destroyed cake behind. As she pulled out of the driveway, she saw his car returning. He was pulling up to their house, adjusting his tie, ready to play the part of the devoted husband. He was alone. He had dropped Sarah off.

He saw her leaving and frowned, calling out her name. "Amelia? Where are you going?"

She ignored him, accelerating down the street. She drove without a destination, just needing to get away. She ended up parked across the street from Sarah' s condo building. She watched, her heart a cold, hard stone in her chest.

David had told her he was going to the venue early to check on things. Another lie. He was on the phone now, pacing in their driveway. She still had the audio feed open.

"I don' t know where she went," he was saying, his voice tight with frustration. "She just drove off. This is a disaster. The party is in an hour."

"Relax, David," Sarah' s voice cooed. "She' s probably just getting her makeup done or something. Women do that. Now, tell me again what you' re going to do after she signs the papers."

Amelia watched her husband lean against his car, his back to her, and lie to his mistress about his wife. He had no remorse. No guilt. Only annoyance that his perfect plan was being inconvenienced.

He ended the call and got back in his car, finally heading towards the party venue. Amelia waited. Ten minutes later, a taxi pulled up to the condo building. Sarah got out, dressed in a stunning, low-cut red dress. She walked into the building, a triumphant smile on her face.

Amelia' s plan had been about public humiliation and financial ruin. But seeing Sarah, so smug and confident, a new, darker thought took root. Revenge wasn' t enough. She wanted to erase them.

She saw a light go on in a third-floor window. Sarah' s window. Amelia raised her phone, the camera lens focused on the lit square. After a few moments, two silhouettes appeared. David and Sarah. He had lied again, circled back to be with her. They were kissing, their bodies pressed together.

Amelia' s hand was steady as she hit record. She captured it all. The passionate embrace, the way his hands roamed her body. It was graphic, undeniable proof. She saved the video. This would be the centerpiece of her 'thank you' presentation.

Her phone rang. It was her mother.

"Honey, are you okay? David called, he sounded frantic. Said he can' t find you."

Tears she didn' t know she was holding back began to fall. "Mom," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I' m leaving him. I' m leaving tonight."

            
            

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