Marrying My Ex's Rival For Sweet Revenge

Estela Stanton POV:

I stood at the door of the home I was supposed to share with my fiancé, Jaimen Blackburn, a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils.

The glow of my phone had never felt so harsh against my eyes.

On the screen, Jaimen had a blonde woman pinned beneath him on the charcoal-gray sofa I had picked out for our future home.

Her dress had ridden up her thighs, one of his hands gripping her waist while the other braced against the cushions beside her head. The leather beneath his fingers was pulled tight, marked by fresh scratches from where they had clawed at it in the heat of the moment.

Her head was tipped back against the armrest, his face buried against her neck, their bodies pressed so close there was no mistaking what the photo had captured.

And right above them hung my art.

The abstract canvas I'd hung just last week was visible over Jaimen's shoulder. Beneath it, on the sofa I'd chosen for our future home, they were tangled together.

That detail alone proved the photo was real.

A chill ran through me, but no tears came. Three years. Three years of swallowing the anger every time his family looked down on me, of enduring my adoptive parents and their obsession with money and status, all for this.

I entered the door code. The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside.

As I passed through the living room, the first thing I saw was the mess they had left behind. Clothes were scattered across the floor, a throw blanket had been dragged half off the sofa, and a woman's bra lay openly in the center of the coffee table, impossible to miss.

Then I heard it. A muffled giggle came from the bedroom, followed by the rustle of sheets.

I drew in a slow breath and walked toward the sound.

I kicked the half-open bedroom door.

It slammed against the wall with a crack that made the two figures on the bed jump apart as if electrocuted.

The blonde-Tessa Hayes, a model I'd seen in gossip magazines-shrieked and fumbled for a sheet to cover herself.

Jaimen's face went white when he saw me. Pure, unadulterated panic flashed in his eyes. "Estela, baby, just let me explain..."

A short, bitter laugh escaped me. I pointed straight at Jaimen, still sitting on the bed. "Explain this."

Then I pointed toward the open door. "Or maybe explain the bra sitting on our coffee table."

Finally, I held up my phone, the photo still glowing on the screen.

"Or explain this."

Jaimen stared at me, then scrambled to his feet, hurriedly pulling on his clothes to cover himself.

"Estela, I..." He swallowed. "It was a mistake. I swear. I love you. It didn't mean anything."turning my back and walking into the living room. Tessa scrambled for her clothes, scurrying out of the apartment like a rat.

Jaimen followed, grabbing for my arm. I ripped it away. "Don't touch me."

I pulled the engagement ring from my finger. The diamond had once been my ticket out of the Hicks family that raised me. Now it was nothing but a shackle.

I walked right up to him, grabbed the front of his shirt, and shoved the ring deep into his pocket.

"We're done, Jaimen."

Just then, his teammates came through the front door I'd left open, still loud and laughing from the game. They spilled into the living room and froze when they saw Jaimen and me standing opposite each other. The laughter died instantly as their eyes moved between us, taking in the scattered clothes, the open bedroom door, and the tension in the room.

Jaimen's face flushed under their stunned stares. What had started behind closed doors was now unfolding in front of everyone.

I looked at him, my voice ringing out clear and steady. "Jaimen Blackburn was screwing another woman in our bed. He and I are over."

A collective gasp went through the crowd. Whispers erupted.

Jaimen's shame curdled into anger. "Estela, stop making a scene!" he hissed, as if this was just some temper tantrum.

That was the last straw.

I raised my heeled boot and drove it hard into his shin.

A choked grunt of pain escaped him, and he stumbled, collapsing to one knee.

The room fell dead silent. Everyone stared, shocked by my unprecedented violence.

I looked down at him, a wave of pure, liberating satisfaction washing over me. "You owed me that."

Then I turned and walked out.

The elevator doors closed, and my body finally started to tremble. I didn't go home. The Hicks' house wasn't my home. I had nowhere to go.

My phone buzzed. The same anonymous number.

A new message: "Well done. Need help?"

My finger hovered over the screen. I didn't reply. Who the hell was this mysterious ally?

The elevator doors opened. I stepped into the cold New York air, still shaken and with no idea where to go.

I hailed a cab, giving the driver the address of the one place Jaimen wouldn't think to look for me-my small, not-yet-opened office space.

Leaning back against the seat, I watched the city lights blur past. The thrill of revenge was fading, replaced by the cold, hard reality of my situation.

I needed money. I needed a plan. I needed to escape the twin swamps of the Blackburns and the Hicks for good.

My phone buzzed again. I expected the anonymous number, but it was my "mother," Felecia Ford.

I declined the call and blocked her number without a second thought. I could already hear what she would say: she'd blame me for ruining the "perfect match" and demand to know how I could embarrass the Hicks family like this.

I stared out at the passing lights, then made up my mind.

I would face Judith myself and make sure everyone knew exactly why this engagement had ended.

Gannon Farley POV:

I sat in my penthouse overlooking Central Park West, the city lights glittering beyond the windows. I took a slow sip of whiskey, savoring the taste and the rare sense of satisfaction that came with it.

On my phone, the message I'd sent to Estela sat unanswered: "Well done. Need help?"

I wasn't surprised. She needed space, not a stranger's intervention.

I put down the glass and switched to another screen on my tablet-a custom program monitoring Jaimen's social circle in real-time. A little toy my security team had built for me.

His friends were in a frenzy. Texts, calls-a digital storm of people looking for Estela.

I smirked. Jaimen. That weak, arrogant fool. He probably thought she was crying somewhere, waiting for him to find her and feed her more lies.

He didn't know her at all.

But I did.

I'd been watching her for three years, ever since she first appeared at his side. I saw the steel beneath the quiet exterior, the pride she tried so hard to hide.

My phone rang. Leo Sullivan, my lawyer and best friend.

"You magnificent bastard," Leo's voice came through, laced with amusement. "I just got word. Jaimen is trashing his locker at the arena."

I could picture it. The smirk on my face widened. "He deserves it."

"His little posse is splitting up to search for Estela," Leo reported. "I've already got my people 'blending in' with them."

Leo was the one who executed my plans, the only person I trusted with the details.

"Good," I said. "Make sure they find nothing. I want Jaimen running in circles, stewing in his own pathetic desperation."

Leo whistled on the other end. "You're really going for the throat. Is this still about him stealing that MVP nomination from you in college?"

My eyes went cold. "It's not just about that."

It was about him having Estela and not cherishing her.

I switched to another feed on my tablet, this one from a discreet camera I'd had installed across from her office building.

A taxi pulled up. Estela got out, her shoulders squared as she walked into the old, unassuming building.

Relief washed over me. I knew she wouldn't go back to the Hicks' place. That house was just another kind of hell for her.

Jaimen's search party, thanks to Leo's misinformation, was currently scouring bars and nightclubs on the opposite side of town.

Jaimen himself, I saw from another update, had just been summoned back to the Blackburn estate by his mother, Judith. The old dragon was probably already in crisis management mode.

I watched the light turn on in Estela's office window, imagining her in there. Calm, strong, and maybe just a little bit lost.

A fierce, protective urge surged in my chest. I wanted to storm over there, scoop her up, and lock her away in my own castle, safe from everything.

But I couldn't. Not yet.

The timing hadto be perfect. I needed her to walk into my world willingly.

A text from Leo buzzed on my phone: "Jaimen thinks Tessa tipped you off. He's going after her."

Fool. It would lead him even further from the truth.

I took another sip of whiskey, my mind already on the next move. Estela wouldn't let this go. She would go after Judith.

I glanced at the monitor again. The light in her office was still on. She was at her computer, working.

After a while, she stood up, put on her coat, and moved towards the door.

My body tensed. I zoomed in on the camera feed as she exited the building and hailed another cab.

I immediately sent a text to my driver, who was parked a block away. Follow that cab.

A few minutes later, the reply came.

An address: The Blackburn Estate.

I stood up and walked to my closet, selecting a perfectly tailored black suit. "Chris," I said into my personal comms, calling my assistant. "Have the car ready. We're going to the Blackburn estate."

Estela Stanton POV:

I was about to hail a cab to the Blackburn estate when a black Bentley slid to a silent stop in front of me. The tinted window lowered, revealing Gannon Farley's sharp profile.

Gannon, the star captain and undisputed centerpiece of the New York Rangers, was one of the biggest names in hockey. The media painted him as a notorious playboy. Beyond that, he was also Jaimen's biggest rival.

"Going to the Blackburns?" he asked.

I frowned. "How did you know?"

"I heard my biggest rival's fiancée was in trouble." A faint smile touched his lips. "Seemed like a good opportunity to make things a little more complicated."

I stared at him. "So you're here to help me?"

"Help you?" His smile widened. "I'm here to interfere. There's a difference."

It was exactly the kind of answer I'd expect from Jaimen's biggest rival. I reached for the door handle of the cab behind me. "Then I'll pass."

"Wait." Gannon's voice stopped me. He nodded toward the Bentley. "If you walk into the Blackburn estate alone, Judith can shut you down before you get through the front door. If I walk in with you, carrying the Farley name, they'll have to hear you out."

I hesitated. He was right. Getting inside was only the first step, and having Gannon beside me would make it much harder for the Blackburns to dismiss me.

I looked at him for a moment, then opened the passenger door and got in.

The drive was quiet. When we reached the Blackburn estate, the massive iron gates swung open the moment the guards recognized the Bentley. Gannon drove straight toward the main house and stopped at the front steps.

I pushed the car door open, my heels making a sharp, determined crunch on the gravel driveway.

Gannon got out from the driver's side. He wore a black suit that made him look taller, more imposing.

He turned, his piercing green eyes lingering on me for a moment. A barely perceptible smirk touched his lips. "Ready?"

I didn't answer, just walked toward the front door. He fell into step beside me.

The butler rushed out to greet us. He bowed respectfully to Gannon, then shot me a look of pure contempt and smug satisfaction.

I walked into the living room. Jaimen's mother, Judith Blackburn, was seated on a pristine white sofa, her posture rigid. Jaimen stood beside her, looking like a scolded child.

Her cold, sharp eyes landed on me. "You have the nerve to show your face here?"

Before I could speak, Gannon strolled in behind me. He casually unbuttoned his suit jacket as if he owned the place. "Judith. Long time no see. Looks like I'm interrupting a family meeting."

Judith's face changed the moment she saw him. His presence was clearly a shock. She forced a tight, brittle smile. "Gannon. What brings you here?"

He ignored her question, walking over to the empty sofa beside me and sinking into it. He crossed his legs, his posture relaxed but dangerous. "I'm with Ms. Stanton. We're here to handle some... private business."

His words left the room silent. Jaimen's eyes reddened, jealousy and anger flashing across his face. Judith stiffened, her expression turning hard.

I was just as shocked, but I kept my expression neutral. I had no idea what his game was, but my instincts told me to trust him.

Judith took a deep breath, turning her venom back on me. "Estela, Jaimen told me everything. Young men make mistakes. For the sake of both our families, this needs to be swept under the rug."

I let out a cold laugh. "Swept under the rug? You want me to pretend nothing happened and marry this... traitor?"

"Name your price," Judith said, her voice dripping with condescension, as if she were dismissing a beggar.

I was about to fire back when Gannon spoke first. He picked up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table, tossing it lightly in his hand. "Judith, I think you've misunderstood the situation."

His voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable weight of authority. "This isn't about what Estela will take. It's about what the Blackburn family is willing to pay to earn her forgiveness."

The color drained from Judith's face. She knew what Gannon-and the Farley family-represented in New York. Their power dwarfed hers.

I seized the moment, laying out my terms. "I want the Blackburn Group's official social media account to post a public statement. It will announce the end of the engagement and state clearly that Jaimen is at fault. If not, those photos will be on the front page of every news outlet by morning."

Judith trembled with fury, pointing a finger at me. "You dare threaten me?"

"She's not threatening you," Gannon said, rising to his feet. His tall frame cast a long shadow, enveloping Judith. "She's informing you."

He moved to stand behind me, his hand resting lightly on the back of my chair in a gesture of pure protection. "The statement, or the scandal. Your choice."

Judith stared at him, then at me, her eyes filled with a hatred so intense it was almost tangible.

Jaimen started to speak, but a single sharp look from his mother silenced him.

After a long, tense moment, Judith ground out the words through her teeth. "Fine. I'll do it."

She snatched her phone and began barking orders at her PR team.

I stood up. My purpose here was achieved. I wouldn't stay a second longer.

Gannon stood with me. His hand slid from the chair to my shoulder, a brief, steadying touch. "Let's go. I'll take you home." His voice was low, a warm current in the icy room.

Together, we walked out of that suffocating house.