Sweet Revenge: Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Nemesis

Audie pushed her weight against the heavy brass handles of the Waldorf Astoria ballroom doors.

The thick wood gave way, releasing a wave of warm air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and roasted meats.

She slipped inside, instantly handing her damp trench coat to a waiting attendant at the cloakroom.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her tailored pencil skirt, making sure her professional attire wasn't too wrinkled from the subway ride.

Her eyes scanned the sprawling, opulent hall.

It was a sea of Ivy League elites, men in sharp tuxedos and women in flowing gowns, all mingling under the golden glow of the chandeliers.

She was looking for Ryder.

A waiter in a crisp white shirt walked past holding a silver tray.

Audie reached out and took a flute of champagne, the chilled crystal cooling her warm fingertips.

She pulled her phone from her clutch and checked the screen.

The text from Ryder, received exactly ten minutes ago, stared back at her: Waiting for you inside.

A sudden eruption of loud, enthusiastic applause drew her attention toward the center of the room.

Directly beneath the largest crystal chandelier, a crowd had formed.

Through a gap in the tailored shoulders of the guests, Audie spotted the familiar broad back of Ryder's custom navy blue suit.

The corners of her mouth lifted into a genuine smile.

She took a step forward, ready to tap his shoulder and surprise him for their three-year anniversary.

Then, a woman in a stunning, custom Chanel gown stepped into view and intimately looped her arm through Ryder's.

Audie's heels stopped dead on the marble floor.

The sharp clack of her stilettos was swallowed by the chatter of the room.

The woman turned her profile slightly, laughing at something Ryder said.

It was Tatum.

Her older sister. The golden child of the Bell family.

Audie's chest tightened so violently it felt like her ribs were collapsing inward.

Her fingers clamped around the stem of the champagne flute.

The skin over her knuckles stretched taut and turned a stark, bloodless white.

She dragged in a sharp breath, the air burning her throat.

It's just family networking, she told herself. Just standard Manhattan social politics.

But then Ryder tilted his head down.

He pressed his lips to Tatum's forehead in a slow, lingering kiss that radiated absolute devotion.

The air vanished from Audie's lungs.

Her brain short-circuited, flashing through a hundred tiny, easily explained absences over the last three months.

She pressed her thumb hard against her opposite wrist, grinding the bone to stop her hands from shaking.

She forced her legs to move, stepping closer to the center of the crowd.

The alumni surrounding them raised their glasses, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations on the perfect union of two powerful families.

Audie stopped less than three feet away from them.

Tatum caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned.

When her eyes landed on Audie, a slow, malicious smile spread across her perfectly painted lips.

Tatum deliberately lifted her left hand, resting it flat against Ryder's chest.

The massive diamond on her ring finger caught the light of the chandelier, refracting a blinding glare straight into Audie's eyes.

Ryder followed Tatum's gaze.

He turned his head and crashed right into Audie's dead, ice-cold stare.

The charming smile dropped from Ryder's face instantly.

Raw panic flared in his eyes.

His body jerked, an automatic reflex to pull his arm away from Tatum's grip.

But Tatum's manicured fingers dug into his bicep, holding him in place.

"Everyone," Tatum announced, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Look who made it. My little sister, Audie."

The surrounding guests turned in unison.

Dozens of eyes raked over Audie's plain office wear, making her feel entirely out of place in the sea of haute couture.

Whispers immediately broke out.

She heard the words adopted, charity case, and Bell family floating through the tense air.

Ryder swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Audie," he stammered, taking a half-step forward. "I..."

Audie didn't shed a single tear.

She lifted the champagne flute to her lips and downed the alcohol in one long, burning swallow.

She slammed the empty crystal glass down onto a nearby cocktail table.

The sharp clink of glass hitting metal cut through the whispers.

She stared at the two of them, her stomach churning with pure bile.

"Disgusting," she said.

She turned on her heel and walked toward the heavy brass doors.

Audie pushed through the ballroom doors and practically sprinted down the hallway.

The thick, patterned carpet muffled her footsteps, but the heavy pounding of her heart echoed in her ears.

Her stomach clamped down in a violent spasm.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, fighting the sudden, intense urge to vomit right there in the corridor.

Behind her, the muffled thud of the ballroom doors swinging open vibrated through the floorboards.

"Audie! Wait!"

Ryder's desperate voice bounced off the high ceilings of the empty hallway.

She walked faster, her thumb digging ruthlessly into her wrist.

She reached the elevator bank and slammed her palm against the down button.

The metal doors slid open with a soft ping.

Just as she stepped inside, a hand shot out and clamped around her wrist like a vice.

Ryder yanked her backward.

Audie ripped her arm out of his grasp as if his skin were made of acid.

She looked at him, her eyes sweeping over his face like she was inspecting a piece of rotting garbage.

"Audie, please, you have to listen to me," Ryder hissed, keeping his voice low. "My parents forced this. It's for the merger."

A harsh, humorless laugh tore from Audie's throat.

"Don't lie to me," she snapped, stepping into his space. "I see the greed in your eyes, Ryder. You want the Bell money just as much as they do."

She stepped backward into the elevator.

Ryder threw his body forward, wedging his shoulder between the closing doors to force them back open.

He stumbled into the small, confined space of the elevator car.

The heavy scent of his Tom Ford cologne filled the air, a smell she used to love, but now it only made the bile rise in her throat again.

"I only love you," Ryder pleaded, reaching out to grab her waist. "Tatum means nothing."

Audie didn't think.

She raised her right hand and swung it with every ounce of strength she possessed.

Her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp, explosive crack.

The sound echoed violently off the metal walls of the elevator.

Ryder's head snapped to the side, a red mark instantly blooming across his jaw.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to the ground floor lobby.

Audie shoved past his frozen body and marched straight out.

She pushed through the hotel's revolving glass doors.

The freezing, damp air of a late autumn New York night hit her face.

The rain was coming down in sheets, but she didn't care. She just walked straight into the downpour.

Ryder burst through the doors a second later, sprinting into the rain.

He jerking her to a halt.

"Are you crazy?" he yelled over the sound of the rain, his face twisted in anger. "You are making a scene! You are nothing without me!"

Audie stood in the freezing rain, the water plastering her hair to her cheeks.

"We are done," she said, her voice colder than the storm. "Go back to your little fiancée."

Ryder's face turned purple with rage.

He yanked her arm hard, trying to physically drag her back under the hotel awning.

Audie's wet heels slipped on the slick asphalt.

Her ankle gave out, and she stumbled sideways, bracing for the hard impact of the street.

Suddenly, twin beams of blinding white light sliced through the heavy rain, illuminating them perfectly.

A massive, pitch-black armored Maybach rolled forward, its deep engine purring like a predator.

It glided to a stop mere inches from where they stood.

The heavy tires rolled directly through a deep puddle.

A wave of dirty street water splashed up, soaking Ryder's custom leather shoes and the hem of his trousers.

Ryder let go of Audie and spun toward the car, his mouth opening to scream obscenities.

The tinted, bulletproof window of the rear passenger seat slowly rolled down, stopping at exactly one-third of the way.

The interior of the car was dark, but a pair of deep, predatory eyes locked onto Ryder through the narrow opening.

The sheer, suffocating weight of the authority radiating from the car hit Ryder like a physical blow.

His mouth snapped shut. He instinctively took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides.

A low, magnetic male voice drifted out from the dark interior of the Maybach.

"Get in the car."

Audie stood frozen in the freezing rain, her eyes locked on the narrow gap of the tinted window.

Ryder swallowed hard, his bravado completely shattered by the oppressive aura of the vehicle.

He took another step back, but his bruised ego forced him to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" Ryder stammered, his voice cracking. "Mind your own business."

The driver's side door of the Maybach popped open.

A massive man in a tailored black suit stepped out, a large black umbrella snapping open in his hands.

The bodyguard ignored Ryder entirely.

He walked straight to Audie, holding the umbrella over her head, instantly cutting off the freezing rain.

With his free hand, the bodyguard pulled open the heavy rear door of the Maybach and offered her a polite nod.

Audie glanced back at Ryder, who was standing in the puddle, looking pathetic and soaked.

She clenched her jaw, made a split-second decision, and ducked her head.

She climbed into the cavernous, luxurious back seat of the Maybach.

The heavy door clicked shut behind her, sealing out the noise of the storm and Ryder's existence.

The air inside the car was warm and dry.

It smelled incredible-a sharp, clean scent of cedarwood mixed with the faint, expensive linger of a cigar.

Audie perched awkwardly on the very edge of the seat, terrified her soaked trench coat would ruin the pristine leather.

She turned her head to look at the man sitting beside her.

The cabin was cloaked in shadows. She could only make out the sharp, aggressive line of his jaw and the broad width of his shoulders.

He was leaning back against the seat, his long legs stretched out, his large hands resting casually on his knees.

The Maybach accelerated smoothly, leaving Ryder standing alone in the downpour.

"Thank you," Audie whispered, her voice trembling slightly from the cold and the adrenaline crash.

The man didn't say a word.

He reached into a hidden compartment between the seats and pulled out a folded square of dark fabric.

He held out a clean, dry silk handkerchief toward her. His movements were fluid, almost practiced.

Audie reached out to take it.

As her fingers closed around the silk, her skin accidentally brushed against the back of his hand.

His skin was cool to the touch.

For a split second, the rhythmic sound of his breathing seemed to stop.

His head turned slightly, his dark eyes locking onto the side of her face with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

Audie quickly pulled her hand back and pressed the silk to her wet forehead.

The handkerchief smelled exactly like him-that intoxicating blend of cold cedar and smoke.

From the front seat, the driver's voice broke the silence. "Where to, sir?"

The man beside her shifted slightly.

"Your address," he said. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

"Brooklyn," Audie said, rattling off the street name of her rundown apartment building.

When she said the borough, she saw the man's brow furrow slightly in the shadows.

The car fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

For ten minutes, the only sound was the rhythmic thump-thump of the windshield wipers pushing away the rain.

The proximity to this stranger was making Audie's skin prickle with an intense, unexplainable heat.

She needed to break the tension.

"I can pay you for the ride," Audie blurted out. "Or for the dry cleaning of the seat."

A low, deep chuckle vibrated from the man's chest.

The sound did strange things to Audie's pulse.

He turned his head fully toward her. As the car passed beneath a streetlamp, a flash of golden light illuminated his face.

His eyes were strikingly intense, framed by dark lashes.

"Keep your money," he said softly.

He looked away, staring out the window into the rain. "Just a business expense."

The Maybach slowed to a crawl.

It pulled up to the curb right in front of Audie's dilapidated brick apartment building.

The contrast between the million-dollar vehicle and the graffiti-covered stoop was jarring.