Ashton's Betrayal, Her Unyielding Vengeance
I spent a decade as Ashton Maxwell' s shadow, building his empire and warming his bed, only for him to announce his engagement to a senator's daughter right in front of me.
When assassins struck that night, he didn't just choose her; he used my body as a human shield against a grenade and then shot me himself to prove his loyalty to her family.
I survived, reinvented myself as Grecia Munoz, and returned to burn his world to the ground, eventually forcing him to hand over his entire empire in a desperate plea for forgiveness.
He promised to disappear so I could find peace with a kind doctor named Garrick.
But Ashton' s definition of love was a sickness.
To "protect" me from what he called a weakness, he secretly destroyed Garrick' s career and reputation, driving the only innocent man I ever loved to jump off a bridge.
He thought this would drive me back into his arms, into the safety of the monster he created.
Instead, I drove to the Hamptons, to the pristine dream home he had built for our future.
He knelt before me, begging for understanding, claiming he did it all for us.
I didn't offer forgiveness.
I raised the pistol he had once given me, aimed at the heart I had already broken, and ended the nightmare once and for all.
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Chapter 3
Iris POV
The last echoes of the celebration faded, leaving only the clinking of glasses and the hushed murmurs of the departing guests. Ashton, his arm still possessively around Elodie, nodded curtly to the remaining staff.
"Iris," he called, his tone brisk. "You're coming with us."
Elodie gave a small, triumphant smirk. She tugged at Ashton's arm. "Darling, must she? It's our special night."
Ashton merely squeezed her hand, his gaze unwavering on me. "She's essential. Besides," he added, a cold edge to his voice, "we need to ensure the details of tonight's security are reviewed."
He led Elodie towards the waiting armored limousine, her white dress a beacon in the dimming light. I followed a few paces behind, the dutiful shadow. The door to the limousine swung open, and Ashton ushered Elodie inside, seating her in the middle, safe and protected. He then slid in beside her, putting himself between her and the window.
I moved to open the opposite door, my usual spot behind Ashton. But he stopped me. "Iris, you can ride upfront with my driver, Anton." His voice was flat, leaving no room for argument.
My usual spot, the place where I could observe, anticipate threats, and be closest to him, was now denied. I was relegated to the front, exposed. Elodie, nestled safely in the back, glanced back at me, a smug smile playing on her lips. She had won. Again.
I slid into the front passenger seat, the leather cold beneath my fingers. Anton, a burly man with eyes that saw everything, gave me a brief, sympathetic glance in the rearview mirror. He started the engine, and the limousine glided smoothly into the night.
We hadn't driven five blocks when the world exploded.
A deafening CRACK ripped through the night, followed by the sickening crunch of metal and shattering glass. The limousine lurched violently. I instinctively slammed my hand against the dashboard, bracing myself.
"Ambush!" Anton yelled, his voice strained. He swerved, tires screeching against the asphalt.
Another crack, closer this time. A sniper.
"Dominic! Leo!" Ashton's voice, sharp and commanding, barked from the back. "Take them out!"
Two of Ashton's bodyguards, who had been following in a separate vehicle, jumped out, weapons drawn, returning fire. The street erupted into a chaotic symphony of gunfire and shouts.
"Stay down, Elodie!" Ashton roared, shoving her further onto the floorboard. He pressed his body over hers, shielding her completely.
My eyes darted to the side mirror. A black van, windows tinted, was closing in fast. The sniper was on the rooftop of a nearby building, a chilling red dot dancing on our vehicle.
"Left flank is exposed!" I shouted to Anton, my voice cutting through the chaos. "They're circling!"
Suddenly, Ashton kicked open the rear passenger door on my side. "Iris! Get out! Create a diversion!" he yelled, his voice cold and precise. "Draw their fire!"
My blood ran cold. A diversion. A living shield. He was throwing me out, deliberately exposing me to the sniper's bullet, to the crossfire. To protect Elodie.
"Ashton!" I gasped, my voice raw with disbelief.
But he didn't even look at me. His sole focus was Elodie, still cowering beneath him.
The sniper's red dot danced closer, aiming for the open door. My side.
Without a second to process the betrayal, a searing pain exploded in my left arm. A bullet. It grazed me, tearing through muscle and skin. I cried out, my body hitting the pavement as I was forced out of the moving vehicle. The world spun.
The limousine sped away, leaving me crumpled on the ground, blood blooming on my sleeve. The gunfire intensified around me. I was a target. A sacrificial lamb.
"Iris!" Anton's voice, desperate, echoed behind me. He had stopped the car. He was coming back for me.
The limousine, however, continued its escape, Ashton and Elodie safe inside. He hadn't even looked back.
Another explosion ripped through the night, closer this time. The black van. It had been hit.
I forced myself up, my arm throbbing. The sniper zeroed in on me again. I dove behind a parked car, the bullets tearing into the metal above my head.
Suddenly, a massive shape loomed over me. Colonel Hall. He had been in the trailing car, the one meant to secure the convoy. He pulled me up, his face grim. "Are you alright, child?"
"Grazed," I panted, clutching my arm. "Ashton... he threw me out."
Colonel Hall's jaw tightened. "I saw." His eyes, usually so calm, blazed with fury. "Get in!" He shoved me towards his own vehicle, already riddled with bullet holes.
We sped away, leaving the chaos behind. My arm screamed in protest, but the pain in my heart was far worse. He had chosen her. Over me. He had sacrificed me without a second thought.
We reached a safe house, a nondescript apartment in a quiet part of the city. Colonel Hall, a former military medic, cleaned and bandaged my wound with practiced efficiency. My head was still spinning.
"Anton said they got away clean," he reported, his voice low. "No casualties on their end."
No casualties. Because I had been the casualty.
"He asked about me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. A foolish hope, clinging to the wreckage.
Colonel Hall hesitated, his gaze softening with pity. "He was... preoccupied with Elodie's safety."
"Of course," I said, a bitter laugh escaping me. "The white swan needs no blemish."
He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You saved them, Iris."
I shook my head. "No. He used me. He threw me to the wolves." The memory of his cold eyes, his calculated command, replayed in my mind. The knife twisted deeper.
A few days later, my arm still bandaged, I received the news. Ashton and Elodie had made a public appearance, Elodie looking shaken but radiant, Ashton looking stoic and protective. He had given an interview, praising Elodie's courage and condemning the "senseless violence." Not a single mention of me. Not a single word.
Empty. That' s what I felt. Not just from the blood loss, but from the gaping wound in my soul. I was a ghost, indeed. A ghost of a woman he had once pretended to love.