A Sweet Vengeance

ISABELLE

This is a nightmare.

It has to be.

The office is bustling with noise, but my world is as silent as a graveyard as I stare at the TV, watching the anchor's voice drone on.

"Renowned heir and millionaire, Andrew Cole is officially engaged to Evelyn Carter..."

I can't move, can't breathe, not when my whole world is combusting before my eyes.

What the hell is happening?

Trying to make sense of it, I blink, shake my head and look again.

The image on the screen is so clear. Andrew's arm wrapped around Evelyn, both of them smiling like they have just won a lottery.

The anchor's voice drifts in and out, but I can't focus on anything except the image.

I can't breathe.

This isn't happening.

This can't be bloody happening.

"Miss Reynolds?" a voice cuts through the fog in my mind. "What's going on?"

Jake Montero, my ever demanding boss whom I would normally not risk offending.

I don't bother to answer him now, though.

My mind is incapable of making sense of anything right now

"Miss Reynolds? I am talking to you.*

Again, I don't respond.

Instead, I rush to my feet, my chair crashing against the desk, but I don't care. I grab my bag, ignoring his confused call, and rush out of the office.

"There has to be some explanation for this," I mutter to myself. "They wouldn't, it doesn't... It has to be a lie. It has to be."

I'm not thinking straight, that was for sure.

I just couldn't wrap my head round the fact that I just got dumped and played.

My feet are moving before I even realize it, but I know where I'm headed. Our apartment. I can't let this be real. I need to see it with my own eyes.

The streets blur as I drive, but I don't care about the rain, the traffic. Nothing matters except reaching Evelyn and Andrew. They have to explain themselves.

By the time I pull up to the apartment I share with Evelyn, my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest.

I don't even bother with the umbrella, allowing the rain to drench me as I rush to the door.

The moment I step inside, the sight I see stops me dead.

Andrew is here.

He isn't supposed to be here

Hw is supposed to be in france.

Studying for his business degree.

But here he is

Sitting on our couch.

His arm draped lazily over Evelyn's shoulders, both of them laughing like they don't have a care in the world.

I slam the door shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot and they look up instantly and instead of guilt or surprise, there's amusement in their eyes.

"Well, look who finally showed up," Evelyn drawls, her lips curling into a smug smile.

"What the hell is this?" My voice cracks, but I don't care. I'm too angry, too confused, too hurt.

Andrew leans back, his expression cold. "It's exactly what it looks like, Isabella. Don't make this harder on yourself."

"Harder on myself?" I step forward, the rage bubbling up inside me.

"You're engaged? To her? My best friend? My roommate?"

Evelyn stands up, crossing her arms. "Oh, please, Isabella. Don't act so shocked. You had to know this was coming."

I look at her, my chest heaving. "You're my best friend, Evelyn. How could I know this was coming?! How could you do this to me?"

She laughs, the sound sharp and mocking.

"Best friend? Let's not kid ourselves, Belle. You were a convenience. A charity case. Do you really think someone like me would stick around someone like you for friendship?"

Her words hit me like a slap. I turn to Andrew, desperate for some kind of explanation. "And you? What's your excuse?"

He shrugs, his gaze bored.

"There's no excuse, Belle, Evelyn's right. You're not who you used to be. You've fallen so far, and frankly, I don't see a future with you anymore."

I stumble back, shaking my head. "You don't see a future with me? After everything we've been through? After everything I've done for you?"

Andrew stands, his towering frame making me feel small. "You're a bankrupt, destitute orphan, Isabella. You've got nothing to offer me anymore. Evelyn, on the other hand..." He looks at her, his eyes dark with something that makes my stomach turn. "She understands what I need. She's not holding me back."

I feel like the air has been sucked out of the room. My heart shatters into pieces that I can't even begin to pick up. "You're disgusting," I whisper, my voice trembling.

He steps closer, his tone mocking. "Face it, love, You're nothing now. No money, no power, no family. You're just a washed-up shell of the girl I used to know."

"Get out of my apartment!" I scream, my voice raw.

Evelyn smirks. "Your apartment? Sweetheart, you seem to forget which one of us is paying the bulk of this place. A word of advice, you should start packing your things."

Her words are the final blow. I can't take it anymore. Tears stream down my face as I turn and bolt out the door, the rain soaking me within seconds.

I don't know where I'm going. I just know I need to get away.

I climb into my car, my hands shaking as I grip the steering wheel as the rain lashes against the windshield, and my vision is blurred from the tears spilling down my cheeks.

The words echo in my mind: You're nothing now. A bankrupt, destitute orphan.

I slam my foot on the gas, my breathing ragged. The streets blur as I drive, my emotions a chaotic mess of anger, pain, and betrayal.

Even as the rain gets heavier, and the road ahead becomes a smear of lights and shadows I still try to focus, but it's too much.

Then, out of nowhere.....headlights.

I don't even have time to react. The sound of screeching tires fills my ears, followed by the deafening crash of metal on metal.

And everything goes black.

ISABELLE

"Bella, wake up or you are going to be late!"

I jolt awake at Evelyn's familiar voice, my chest heaving as if I have just run a marathon.

For a long second, I can't breathe even as I try to calm down my panic.

Where's the truck?

I heard a truck.

I heard a crash.

I...

My fingers grip the sheets- familiar sheets and I look down to see my baby pink polka dot bed sheet in my fist.

My gaze darts around, taking in the chipped paint on the walls, the crooked photo frame above my dresser, the faint hum of traffic from outside.

No. This can't be right.

I am... I am in my room?

My hand shakes as I grab my phone from the nightstand.

The date flashes on the screen, clear as day.

18th March 2025.

It's... a year ago.

A sharp chill runs down my spine as I sit up, gripping the edge of the bed, my heart pounding like a drum as I try to understand what's happening.

Yesterday, or what feels like yesterday, I was staring at Andrew and Evelyn laughing in my face. Today, I'm... back here? In my tiny apartment?

How does that even make sense?!

My chest tightens. It's not possible. None of this makes sense.

"What is happening?!" I whimper to myself as I stumble to the mirror, half expecting to see someone else staring back. But it's me. Same brown eyes. Same messy hair. Same everything.

A second chance.

The words echo in my mind, wild and chaotic.

I don't know how or why, but I've been thrown back here, to the beginning, before everything crumbled.

I inhale deeply as my reflection stares back at me, wide, eyed and terrified, but there's something else in my gaze now.

Anger.

No, not anger.

Rage.

I'm not going to let them destroy me this time.

*******

The office is buzzing with activity when I step inside.

Phones ringing, keyboards clattering, voices murmuring.

It's the same sterile, polished space I remember, but it feels different now.

I feel different now.

"Morning, Isabelle." Jenna from accounting waves at me, her smile as bright as ever.

"Morning," I reply, forcing a polite grin.

My stomach churns as I head toward my desk. I wonder how many of these people already knew what Andrew and Evelyn were up to.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

They would have to care about you first

Before I can spiral, a voice cuts through the noise.

"Miss Reynolds." a voice calls and I freeze.

Jake Montero

His deep, steady voice carries effortlessly over the din, and when I turn, he's standing by his office door, his gaze sharp as ever.

"Yes, Mr. Montero?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

Desperately trying to act normal.

What is normal, anyway?

He gestures toward the stack of papers in his hand. "I need these filed immediately. And follow up with the vendors about the shipment delay."

I nod, my pulse quickening. "Of course."

He strides past me, the scent of his cologne.. something crisp and expensive lingering in the air as I reach for the files, but our hands brush.

Just for a second.

It's nothing.

It shouldn't be anything.

But my breath hitches, and when I glance up, he's already walking away, completely unfazed.

"Get your act together, Belle," I mutter as I shake it off.

There's no room for distraction.

Not now.

Andrew's text comes in while I'm buried in spreadsheets.

Dinner tonight? 7 PM. My treat.

I stare at the screen, my stomach twisting.

A year ago, or is it a year into the future?....I would have smiled at this message, maybe even blushed.

But now?

Now I want to throw my phone across the room.

Instead, I type back a simple reply.

Sure.

If I'm going to figure out how long they've been playing me, I need to play along.

**************************

Andrew looks good.

Of course, he always does.

His perfectly styled hair, his easy smile, the way he leans back in his chair like he owns the world, it's all so calculated.

I sip my wine, watching him closely. He's saying something about work, but I'm not really listening. I'm too busy noticing the way his eyes flicker to his phone every few minutes. T

The way he glances around the restaurant like he's searching for someone.

"Isabelle?"

I blink. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you're okay. You seem... distracted."

I force a smile. "Just a long day."

He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "You work too hard. I keep telling you to take it easy."

His touch used to make me feel safe. Now it makes my skin crawl.

"I'll try," I murmur, pulling my hand back. "So, when are you leaving for France?"

"By month's end," he says with a smile. "I am going to miss you like crazy."

"Hmm. Me too."

By the time dinner's over, I've learned nothing new. But I've seen enough to know one thing

He was obviously hiding something I knew about already.

His relationship with Evelyn.

We finished the good and he told me he had to be somewhere so he couldn't drop me.

I started my journey home as the rain poured,

Big, fat drops that soak through my coat in seconds.

Like that night, just that I wasn't with a car.

I pull my hood up and keep walking, my mind racing with everything I need to do.

The sound of tires splashing through puddles makes me glance up. A sleek black car slows to a stop beside me, the window rolling down smoothly.

"Miss Reynolds."

Jake Montero's voice cuts through the rain. His gaze is steady, unreadable, as he leans slightly toward the open window.

"Mr. Montero," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Get in," he says simply.

I hesitate, the tension thick between us. But the rain is relentless, and I can't think of a good excuse to refuse.

I climb into the car, the leather seats cold against my skin. The door closes with a soft click, sealing us inside.

For a while, neither of us speaks. The sound of rain against the windows fills the silence, heavy and oppressive.

"Rough evening?" he asks eventually, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

"Just dinner," I reply, keeping my voice even.

"With Andrew?"

My head snaps toward him, but his expression gives nothing away.

"Yes," I say cautiously.

How does he know about Andrew?

He hums, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Interesting choice."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, my heart pounding.

He glances at me briefly before focusing back on the road. "Nothing. Just wondering why someone like you would settle for someone like him."

My breath catches.

There's something in his tone, something probing, almost challenging.

"I don't understand what you mean," I say. "Is there something wrong with Andrew?" I ask as he pulls up to my apartment.

"Good night, Isabelle," he says, his voice cool and composed.

Final

I step out into the rain, his words echoing in my mind.

Why would someone like me settle for someone like Andrew?

As the car pulls away, I realize I have another question.

How does he know where I live?

ISABELLE

Life feels different now, like I am walking on eggshells in a room full of secrets.

And it is even worse at work.

Every click of a keyboard, every glance from a coworker, it all feels to much.

Like I am a part of a bigger puzzle I'm only starting to understand.

I'm typing out an email when his voice cuts through the quiet hum of the office.

"Miss Reynolds, in my office. Now."

Jake's tone is sharp, as always, leaving no room for argument and my stomach does a little flip -nerves or annoyance, I can't tell- but I grab my notepad and head to his office.

The door shuts behind me with a soft click. His office is immaculate, all dark wood and sleek furniture, just like him, calculated and untouchable.

He doesn't look up right away, just flips through a file, his brow furrowed.

"Sit," he says, finally glancing at me.

I obey, clutching the notepad like a lifeline. "Mr. Montero," I say, keeping my tone professional.

His gaze lingers on me for a second too long, and I resist the urge to squirm. "How's the vendor follow-up going?"

"It's... under control," I reply cautiously.

"Good." He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, Miss Reynolds, what is your take on loyalty?"

The question hits me out of nowhere. I blink, caught off guard. "Loyalty?"

"Yes. To the company, to people. What does it mean to you?"

My throat feels dry. Is this some kind of test? "I think it's... earned," I say carefully. "It's not something you give freely. People have to prove they're worthy of it."

He nods, his expression unreadable. "Interesting perspective."

The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, until he finally dismisses me.

I leave his office feeling like I've just stepped off a tightrope. What was that about?

***********************************

By lunchtime, my head's still spinning as I sit with Evelyn in the cafeteria, plastering on my best fake smile.

She had come straight from hwe workplace to have lunch with me. Thanks to me, I had Andre get her a job in his father's company.

Come to think of it, is that when it started?

"God, these meetings are killing me," she groans, stabbing her salad with a fork. "I swear, if I have to listen to one more budget report, I'll scream."

I laugh, though it's forced. Sitting across from her feels like sitting across from a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"I guess that's the price of working there," I say lightly, twirling my fork. "It's worth it, though. Your place is... impressive."

She smirks. "And demanding. Speaking of, how's Andrew? Still playing the perfect boyfriend?"

She would know

My chest tightens, but I keep my face neutral. "Oh, you know him. Always so thoughtful."

She arches a brow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Lucky you."

I study her carefully, searching for cracks in her facade. But Evelyn is a pro. She gives nothing away, not even a flicker of guilt.

"So," I say casually, "he's been so stressed lately. Have you noticed anything? Like, is there something going on at work he's not telling me?"

She doesn't even blink. "Not that I know of. Maybe he's just tired of you nagging him."

The jab lands, but I don't let it show. Instead, I laugh like it's the funniest thing I've ever heard.

The more we talk, the clearer it becomes that she is already playing her own game.

And she's damn good at it.

***************************

That evening, I'm curled up on the couch when there's a knock at the door.

"Coming!" I call, setting down my mug.

When I open the door, Andrew stands there, holding a bouquet of roses.

"Surprise," he says, flashing that charming smile I used to fall for.

I force a smile. "Andrew, what are you doing here?"

"I missed you." He steps inside, handing me the flowers. "Thought I'd check in. How's work? Everything okay with Montero Enterprises?"

The question makes my stomach twist. Why does he care?

"It's fine," I say, setting the flowers on the counter. "Nothing exciting."

He watches me carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Of course," I lie, my voice steady.

He stays for an hour, acting like the perfect boyfriend. But every word, every glance, feels calculated. When he finally leaves, I feel like I've just survived a battle.

Why was he so damn interested in my work place?

He was always the same with my parents company too.

Before they died and it went under

I grab my old journals from the shelf, flipping through the pages until I find what I'm looking for a note about my parents' last business dealings. Something about a merger that went sour.

My heart races. Then my mind went back to the day I got back from school and I saw my dad talking to someone, he addressed the person as Mr.Montero.

What could the deal have been about?

****************************

The next day after a long day of continuous work, The office is eerily quiet when I stay late to finish some reports. Most of the lights are off, and the usual buzz of activity is replaced by the hum of the air conditioning.

I'm about to pack up when voices catch my attention.

"Fire him if you have to," a deep voice says.

I freeze. It's coming from Jake's office.

"You don't understand," another voice, Victor Montero, Jake's father snaps. "This is bigger than you, Jake. We can't afford any collateral damage again."

Collateral damage?

I inch closer, my heart pounding so loudly I'm sure they'll hear it.

"Again?" He growls. "This company is mine, now remember" Jake says, his tone ice-cold. "I'm not letting you turn it into a war zone. I am not going to let you destroy it. You do that to everything you touch."

"You don't have a choice," Victor fires back. "Do what needs to be done, or I will."

My blood runs cold. I don't know what they're talking about, but every instinct screams that it's fucking dangwuand I should get out of here

As I back away, my heel catches on the edge of the carpet. I stumble, and the sound echoes through the hallway.

The voices stop.

"Who's there?"

Panic grips me as footsteps approach.