Revenge Was Her Final Vow

Chapter One

Diana Point of view

Obsessed

My lovely husband came down the staircase to meet me in the kitchen and kissed me softly on my cheeks.

I smiled, a warm flutter settling in my chest, because I truly had been more than blessed to have him in my life.

"Good morning, babe," he said, grinning from ear to ear, the kind of grin that made my heart skip a beat every time.

"Good morning, honey," I replied, my focus glued to the pancakes I was flipping carefully, not wanting to burn them.

"How was your night?" he asked, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

"I slept well," I answered, sitting down the last piece of pancake on the plate, trying to sound casual though a small smile tugged at my lips.

He sat down across from me and started devouring the food I had prepared, my early morning efforts after staying up all night helping him draft and organize his business proposals finally coming to fruition.

"Well done, honey. I see you've been working really hard on this project all week," he said, a note of genuine admiration in his voice.

"I don't see it as anything much. Honestly, I love being by your side through it all," I replied, brushing off my contribution though pride stirred faintly in my chest.

"Once I get this deal," he said, looking up from the documents with that twinkle in his eyes, "I promise, I will take you on a vacation-to any country of your choice."

My heart melted. Was he serious this time?

I smiled, thinking about all the late nights, the paperwork, the hours spent trying to make his projects perfect. That's what I loved about him. I didn't mind pouring every ounce of my energy, skill, and patience into making sure his business flourished.

I had been married to him for five years, and though I had stopped my own career to focus entirely on his, he had never failed to show his appreciation with kind words and little gestures of affection. The promise of a trip made my excitement bubble up uncontrollably.

"Oh...I can't wait to experience such a wonderful trip with you," I said, my voice laced with genuine delight.

He kept flipping through the files, reviewing the proposals. A few minutes later, he paused and smiled, clearly impressed with my work.

"I will be going now. We have a team meeting in a few minutes," he announced.

I rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

"Good luck, babe," I whispered.

He hugged me back, lingering a moment longer before walking out the door and heading to his BMW.

I returned to the kitchen, carefully packing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. After that, I swept the floors and started the laundry, keeping the mansion immaculate.

Even though David's business had made him a multi-millionaire, he had chosen not to hire a maid. His reason? He didn't want me to grow lazy after leaving the fashion industry. I had agreed. I knew he meant well, and secretly, I didn't mind the tasks; they kept me busy, grounded, and gave me a sense of contribution.

I had prayed for a man like David for so long. Five years ago, when he asked me to marry him, I had been ecstatic, and I couldn't imagine jeopardizing such a blessing. I had turned twenty-nine that year, and the thought of being a spinster at thirty had terrified me.

When he asked me to quit my job, I hadn't hesitated. I resigned immediately, trusting his promise to employ me as a member of his board of directors. I had believed in him, in us, and in the life we were building together.

After finishing the housework, I turned my attention to the remaining documents he had assigned me. My eyes widened in shock as I saw the name listed as the new C.E.O. of my former fashion company.

How could he? My heart raced. I dropped the files onto the table with a loud thud. I needed answers, and the only person who could give them was in the office of his company.

I showered quickly, dressed neatly, and traced his office location using Google Maps. I arrived and walked into the building, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

At the reception, a young woman smiled politely at me, gesturing for me to sit. She looked barely twenty-four, cheerful and unassuming.

I sighed, frustrated. If only she knew who I was-she would have let me in without hesitation. But I had no proof of my identity. David had insisted I keep my father's surname, Rodriguez, instead of using his, Williams.

A few minutes later, she nodded at me, signaling that I could go in.

I stepped inside, and there he was-David. The shock on his face mirrored the storm of questions swirling in my mind.

"Diana...what...what are you doing here?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

"Well... I'm sorry to walk into your office unannounced," I said, placing the document firmly on the table between us, "but I need answers."

His eyes widened further, searching mine as if trying to read my intentions.

"Do you mind explaining why there is a woman's name on this document, and why she bears your surname as well?" I demanded, my voice trembling slightly with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I... I can explain," he said, though the hesitation in his voice told me this was going to be a long, complicated conversation.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer, knowing deep down that whatever he said next could change everything I thought I knew about our marriage.

"You better start!", I yelled at the top of my voice.

David didn't shout.

That alone unsettled me.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes dark-not guilty, not nervous.

Calculating.

"Diana," he said calmly, "that company was never meant to have your name on it."

I stiffened. "Why?"

"Because the moment I realized how valuable you were, I also realized how exposed you'd be."

He stood up and walked toward the glass window, his back to me.

"Your former fashion house is under a silent audit. Investors, shell accounts, unpaid royalties, things that haven't gone public yet. The moment your name appeared anywhere near ownership, you'd be dragged into it."

He turned to me slowly.

"I chose to remove you completely."

I frowned. "So you put another woman there?"

"Yes." His tone was firm. "A proxy. Someone expendable. Someone who wouldn't lose anything if things went wrong."

My breath hitched.

"You promised me a board seat," I whispered.

"I promised to protect you," he corrected. "And this was the only way."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"You were emotional after leaving your career. If I told you the truth, you would've insisted on fighting your way back in-and I couldn't risk you being destroyed by a system that eats people alive."

He reached for my hand.

"I took the burden so you wouldn't have to."

I rolled my eyes slowly, uncertainty tugging at my chest. I didn't know what to believe anymore.

Everything about our marriage had happened so fast-too fast. I barely had time to breathe before I found myself wearing a ring and answering to "wife." I never got the chance to meet his family properly.

No long introductions, no warm embraces, no awkward first impressions. We were wedded quietly in a local church, officiated by a lone clergyman who barely knew our names.

At the time, I didn't question it. I thought love was enough.

But now, confusion swirled inside me like a restless storm.

"I'm sorry... I should have thought about that," I said softly, my voice almost drowned by guilt.

"So stupid of me to think you would ever try to hurt me."

He leaned closer, his presence calming, familiar. He kissed my cheek gently, his lips warm against my skin.

"It's alright," he said in that soothing tone he used whenever I doubted myself. "You're human. And I know how much you love me, so it's normal to worry sometimes."

My shoulders relaxed almost instantly. That was David-always knowing what to say, always making me feel silly for doubting him.

"Have you made lunch already?" he asked casually. "I'm starving."

Shame washed over me in waves. I lowered my head, embarrassed. I had been so consumed by my thoughts, so irritated and anxious, that I hadn't prepared anything fresh for him.

"I'll hurry up and make something right away," I said quickly.

"Good girl," he replied with a small smile. "Hurry up. Your precious husband is starving."

My heart fluttered at the word husband.

"Okay," I said eagerly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

A shiver ran down my spine, the familiar warmth spreading through me.

As I left the office, a wave of reassurance washed over me. Why was I even worried?

David was successful, wealthy, respected. There was no reason to be scared. He provided for me, cared for me-or at least, that was what I believed. He was a good husband. A loving one.

My thoughts were so filled with David that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Suddenly, I collided with someone.

"Oh-sorry," I whispered, startled, as I bent down to help pick up the items that had spilled from her hands.

She was tall, fair, striking-someone who looked like she stepped straight out of a fashion magazine.

She snatched the items from my hands forcefully, her eyes cold and sharp.

"Perhaps next time you'd be careful enough not to bump into strangers," she said rudely.

I paused, taken aback, but chose to ignore her. I straightened up and walked past her without another word. I refused to let anything ruin my mood.

I was having a good day.

I was going home to make a delicious dinner for the man I loved.

And for that moment, nothing else mattered.

Chapter Two

David Point of view

The document

I sighed deeply relieved that she had left the office. What was I thinking mixing up the document she was supposed to be working on?

I breathed deeply. She was so close to finding out.

I was glad she didn't find out. After seeing how desperate she wanted to get married.

I didn't hesitate to give her what she wanted.

Diana had been a faithful servant to me. Making sure all my business decisions are made with accuracy and ensuring that every deal I get is signed.

I scratched my head. I need a little bit of time to finalise everything and get rid of her.

She was too old for me. A thirty four year old woman.

I couldn't help coming home to her instead of my beautiful princess Eleanor.

To cope with staying with her I had to envision Diana as a maid. That way I wouldn't have to deal with the fact that she was living with me in the same house.

The thought of thinking about her saddened me so much that my face reddened like a tomato.

Eleanor walked into my office. She was wearing a red silky dress and packed her hair in a stylish bun just the way I like it.

She was my dream woman. A twenty-two year old college graduate and an aspiring model.

My true love. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

She leaned over and brought down her dress to show her perky boobs.

My entire face lit up the moment she walked in.

Eleanor.

She moved like she owned the room-long legs, careless confidence, youth glowing off her skin like it was currency. Everything Diana no longer was.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, lips curving into that familiar, knowing smile.

"Of course I did," I murmured, my voice dropping instinctively.

She was my escape.

My reward.

The air that made suffocation bearable.

I didn't waste time. I cupped her face, smooth and warm beneath my palms, then pulled her closer by the waist. She fit perfectly there.

"What do you plan on getting me for my next birthday?" she asked, eyes sparkling with expectation.

I chuckled softly. God, I loved her audacity. Her hunger. She never pretended to be modest.

Instead of answering, I reached for the document Diana had stormed into my office with earlier. I handed it to Eleanor without ceremony.

She frowned. "What's this?" she asked, flipping through the pages carelessly.

"Take a proper look first, my love," I said, wrapping my arms around her from behind, my chin resting on her shoulder.

She huffed. "I was expecting a gold necklace... or maybe a trip to the Maldives."

I smiled to myself.

"This," I said calmly, "is your ticket to getting whatever you want. Necklace. Trips. Anything."

Her movements still.

"Really?" she breathed.

"Yes, babe." I kissed her softly, slow and deliberate.

She finally focused, eyes scanning the page-then widening.

Eleanor Williams.

C.E.O.

The fastest-rising fashion company in the country.

Her mouth fell open. "David... is this real?"

I stepped back, watching the disbelief bloom into excitement, then something sharper-ambition.

I dropped to one knee.

From my pocket, I pulled out a gold ring. Elegant. Expensive. Final.

"Eleanor," I said, voice steady, practiced, "will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Her gasp was immediate. She didn't hesitate-not even for a second.

"Yes," she cried, already reaching for the ring. "Yes, I'll marry you!"

She laughed, breathless with triumph, then frowned suddenly. "What about... her?"

I scoffed.

"The old witch?" I said coldly. "I've wasted enough time."

I stood up, sliding the ring onto her finger.

"I'm divorcing her," I said simply. "Very soon."

Relief flooded her face. She threw her arms around my neck, kissing me deeply, possessively-like she had already won.

And she had.

Chapter Three

Diana's Point of View

Date

As soon as I finished preparing lunch, I hurried down to the bathroom, eager for a long, relaxing shower. I wanted to feel fresh, beautiful, and most importantly, ready for him.

Tonight, I planned to wear my favorite lingerie, the one that made me feel sexy, desired, and irresistible. I wanted him to look at me and remember why he chose me.

I couldn't help but think of him-David, my husband, the man who had taken my virginity so carefully, so tenderly. The memory still made my heart race.

But lately, his touch had become rare, fleeting... almost nonexistent. I wondered if it was me. I sniffed lightly, almost embarrassed at the thought, but the aroma that greeted me was fine-clean, soft, comforting. No, the problem wasn't me.

For so long, I had been starving-for intimacy, for affection, for the simple warmth of his hand on mine. I had tried to reach him in every way I could imagine, but he was always consumed by business. Meetings, calls, deals... it never ended.

On the rare days he was home, he claimed exhaustion, insisting he had no strength left for anything else. And I swallowed it all. I swallowed the disappointment, the loneliness, the growing ache in my chest. Because I wanted this marriage. I had prayed for a man like him for years, and I refused to throw it away.

What would society think if I divorced him after all these years of longing, waiting, and sacrificing? I had to be patient. I had to hope.

And yet, as I finished my shower and wrapped myself in a soft towel, a flicker of doubt crept in. Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled out my phone and decided to search for the woman who now handle my former empire. Eleanor.

Nothing. No social media accounts connected to his surname. No traces linking her to him at all. My heart sank a little. Perhaps she wasn't active online, or perhaps... the lie was bigger than I imagined.

I shook my head, dismissing the dark thought. I set the dinner table meticulously, lighting candles, arranging plates neatly, making the place inviting, warm, romantic. I wanted him to feel at home, to feel the love that still coursed through me despite the coldness that had crept into our marriage.

Minutes turned to hours. I checked the clock. Nothing. No sign of him. My phone lay beside me, silent. I dialed his number. Nothing. Not even a missed call notification. Not unusual-he always claimed he didn't answer calls during meetings.

I fidgeted, biting my lower lip. Why? Why now, of all days, would he ignore me? Why leave me waiting, hopeful, vulnerable? My chest ached, my heart shattered yet again into a million tiny pieces.

I should have been used to disappointment by now, but I wasn't. Hope lingered stubbornly, whispering that one day, things would go back to the way they used to be-before distance, before neglect, before this constant ache of longing.

I checked the food again. The dinner had gone cold. I sighed, dished out a portion for myself, and sat down to eat, the silence of the mansion pressing in on me.

A knock on the door made me startle.

I turned to see my closest friend smiling at me, her presence like a warm ray of sunshine cutting through the shadows of my thoughts.

"Hey, girl," she said, stepping inside and wrapping me in a comforting hug.

"Hey," I replied, my voice low, moody.

"What's up?" she asked, concern lining her expression.

"Nothing," I muttered quickly, not wanting to bore her with my marital problems. I wasn't sure I could even put the heartbreak into words yet.

She didn't press at first, only leaned closer, holding me with gentle insistence. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

I hesitated. But then, the dam broke. "Fine," I whispered. "I don't know what to do. David has refused to make love to me... and I am not getting any younger."

Her eyes softened, and a hint of worry crossed her face. "Hmmm... this is serious," she murmured.

"Have you spoken to him about it?" she asked.

"Well... yes. I have tried. I have made up my mind to bring it up tonight," I said, trying to sound determined, though uncertainty gnawed at me.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She had advised me against marrying David, but I hadn't listened. And despite everything, she remained a pillar of support.

"You're only thirty-four, Diana," she said gently. "You're still vibrant, still full of life. Don't let this consume you. Breathe a little, honey."

I managed a small nod. "Okay... I'll try. But you know how I get sometimes-I worry too much."

She pulled me closer. "Just give him time. Once this deal is over, he'll have all your attention, like he promised."

I smiled faintly. "Thank you... you've been a good friend," I said, feeling the warmth of her presence settle in my chest.

"Now, let's eat before the food gets cold again," she said, moving to plate her own portion from the microwave.

We ate together, talking and laughing, sharing stories of recent admirers, business ventures, family pressures. Lindsay never missed a beat, offering advice, teasing me, keeping me grounded even when my heart threatened to spiral.

When she finally left, the mansion fell silent again, the echoes of her laughter lingering in the air like a ghost. I sank into the chair, the emptiness of the house pressing against me.