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Bride of Revenge  Novel Cover

Bride of Revenge

He made her a wife out of duty. She became his enemy out of necessity. ​When Eliza Thorne married a man in a coma, she did it to protect her family. When Damon Valerius woke up and ordered her out of his life with a single, cruel demand—“Sign the papers and get the f*ck out of my house!”—he sealed her fate. ​Damon thought he was rid of the desperate girl. He was wrong. ​Now, Eliza has returned as the head of a global conglomerate, using every ounce of her power to launch a hostile takeover of Valerius Capital. As the war for his empire rages, Damon finds himself battling a cold, stunningly beautiful woman who knows his weaknesses better than anyone. ​But the deeper Eliza digs into her revenge, the closer she comes to uncovering a conspiracy that proves Damon was also a victim. To achieve true justice, she must choose: complete the cold revenge she dedicated her life to, or risk her heart on the ultimate merger—forgiveness.
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Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Confrontation at the Estate

Eliza kept her destination a secret from her security team. She also refrained from revealing her intentions to Mr. Chen. She possessed more knowledge of the Thorne Family Estate than anyone else involved. She was familiar with its concealed routes, its outdated security measures and the quiet nooks that housed the spirits of past inhabitants. The estate had been constructed as a stronghold before her marriage, into the family and it continued to embody the deep pride of its ancestral lineage.

She arrived in the afternoon behind the wheel of an unmarked sedan at a time when the estate was silent and the atmosphere was thick with calm. The front entrance was protected by iron gates yet she bypassed them. Instead she took a dirt path lined with tall pines and parked well inside the shadows out of sight, from any security cameras that might be monitoring.

The mansion appeared deserted yet not neglected. The stone walls showed fractures here and there with vines creeping over the windows like reaching hands. It represented the visage of riches left to decay concealing mysteries beneath its gleaming floors and hidden recollections.

Marcus had employed recovery agents. Not detectives. Not technology professionals. Enforcers. Individuals capable of forcing entry, not deciphering puzzles. This fact, by itself, affirmed her suspicion. The plot that ruined her parents and almost finished Damon wasn’t just monetary. It included proof. Proof that Marcus thought might be taken, concealed or eliminated ahead of any action.

Eliza exited the vehicle. Inhaled the crisp natural air. She looked over the property recalling its design from ago. The main entrance was secured with alarms, motion sensors and cameras that Marcus had never fixed, believing no one would risk coming again. However there was a service passage, on the side that her father had revealed to her once during a storm.

She discovered it behind a part of the fence. The tunnel opening was small and tight, nearly hidden under the shrubs. She stooped, pushed away the twigs and descended into the shadows.

Within the passage reeked of oxidation, moist earth and aged metal. Her footsteps clicked lightly on the ground as she moved. The quiet enveloped her like a fabric yet she kept her pace steady. She was certain of her destination.

---

The passage guided her down to the East Wing’s basement. The mansion consisted of three wings. The central wing contained the library, the ballroom and the famed family vault. That was the destination for Marcus’s employed staff. Naturally they would head there. It was the option.

However the true mysteries were never found in sight.

Eliza walked down the basement corridor gliding alongside abandoned furniture and shattered storage boxes. She came upon a staircase and ascended until she arrived at the small plain study owned by Marcus’s father.

She hesitated at the doorway allowing the recollection of the space to linger in her thoughts. The study perpetually carried a scent of tobacco and aged volumes. Its owner had been a solitary figure deeply consumed by maritime history. Folks thought his maps were his treasure. Little did they realize that this room concealed more than just charts.

Eliza gently opened the door.

The room remained the same. Dust covers cloaked the furniture. The desk remained undisturbed. The tapestry she recalled was still hanging on the wall; its hues dulled over time. She walked across the floor. Raised the tapestry uncovering the old vault door concealed behind it.

The locking system was intricate and mechanical. Though it appeared fashioned Eliza understood it was crafted with intricate ingenuity. Marcus’s father had never placed faith in the primary family vault. His trust was solely in himself.

She slipped her hand into her coat. Extracted a compact electronic gadget, which Mr. Chen had given her for urgent situations. It was capable of unlocking any lock whether vintage or modern. She pressed it to the metal surface. Started operating it.

At the back of the house inside she caught the sound of the main library doors being violently pushed open. Thudding irregular footsteps came after. The men Marcus employed lacked subtlety. This played to her advantage.

She adjusted a knob on the gadget. The lock emitted a click. The safe door swung open.

---

Eliza entered the room. The vault felt cramped, chilly and heavy, with air. Cylinders were arranged along the walls each containing preserved sea charts enclosed in airtight cases. A small generator quietly hummed, maintaining the temperature.

She crouched down. Slid her hand across the floor feeling around. Her father- in-law had told her once that the precious items were rarely found in obvious places. Instead they were concealed beneath areas that appeared dull.

She pushed on the floorboards. I noticed a hollow spot. She lifted it up. Discovered a slim metal box concealed underneath.

Contained within was a compact server drive.

Old. Heavy. Untouched.

Her heartbeat sped up not from fear but from assurance. This was the proof. The data Marcus thought had been erased. The secrets Grandfather Valerius thought hidden. The server drive appeared plain. She understood its significance.

It was the truth behind Damon’s accident.

Behind the Thorne collapse.

Behind her parents’ deaths.

She placed the drive inside a concealed pocket within her coat.

She remained still as the noise of footsteps rapidly approached the East Wing. They moved quicker now dispersed, checking each chamber.

Afterward the men arrived at the study.

"Search every corner " someone yelled. "Thorne mentioned the old man stored something around here."

A different voice answered, irritated and restless. "All I notice are maps and dust. Where is the server he assured us of?"

Continue searching. I need every wall inspected. Thorne mentioned these documents connect the Valerius funds to that incident. If the boss desires them much they must be real.

Eliza stood motionless.

The accident.

They mentioned it nonchalantly as though it were widely known. The incident that left Damon unconscious.. They assumed Damon was the one who engaged their services.

That was the falsehood Marcus gave them. He aimed to keep them preoccupied. He intended for them to be frantic.

She inched toward the vault door silencing her breath.

One of the men struck the bookshelf forcefully. "This shelf isn’t secure. There’s something hiding behind it."

They discovered the revolving bookshelf which concealed the father’s study. They were moments away from uncovering the secret entrance. She needed to divert their attention.

Eliza seized one of the map cylinders, from the vault hoisted it and hurled it with all her might at the steel door.

The impact resonated throughout the study.

"What was that noise?" shouted a man.

"They're in the vault!" someone else yelled. "Get moving!"

The men hurried, rushing in the direction of the noise. She heard them ripping down the tapestry yanking at the vault door swearing when it wouldn’t budge.

She quietly exited via a side door concealed behind a line of aged shelves. This door opened onto a neglected servant stairway. The walls were cramped, the stairs groaned. She navigated the route, from memory.

She proceeded swiftly quietly. Each breath was crucial. Each moment was important.

The men kept yelling in the study, certain that the documents were inside the vault. That granted her time.

She stepped into a corridor bathed in dim afternoon light seeping through grimy windows. Moving softly she stayed near the walls. The mansion seemed like a labyrinth of recollections and gloom. She moved through it with quick assurance.

She arrived at the side service door. Her hand lingered above the handle briefly. She swiveled to listen.

The criminals remained confined in the East Wing breaking into the vault, losing valuable time. They were unaware that they had been deceived.

Eliza stepped outside, shut the service door behind her and hurriedly crossed the lawn.

The server drive felt icy, against her ribs.

She arrived at her vehicle. Turned the ignition on with calm hands.

She didn’t glance back.

She possessed the proof.

She possessed the truth.

She had only intensified the conflict.

As she exited the estate she was sure of two things, without a doubt. Marcus Thorne would freak out once he noticed the drive was missing.. Damon Valerius would confront her soon after since this proof endangered not only Marcus but the entire Valerius heritage.

The stakes were no longer corporate.

They were criminals.

At that moment Eliza had turned into the formidable woman in their realm.

She departed with composed resolve.

The game was no longer in their hands.

It was in hers.

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