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His Fatal Mistake, My Sweet Revenge Novel Cover

His Fatal Mistake, My Sweet Revenge

Trapped 3,000 meters beneath the sea, the submersible I designed was my coffin. The air was turning to poison. But my fiancé, Jeffery, gave our only long-term life support-a CO2 scrubber I invented-to his social media star mistress. "You're strong, Elaina," he said. "You can figure something out." When I tried to use the emergency comms, he broke my wrist and smashed the console. He and his mistress sealed the hatch, leaving me to die alone in the crushing dark. He chose his career over my life. He chose her over me. The man I was supposed to marry would rather I suffocate at the bottom of the ocean than face a failed mission. But as the blackness closed in, I remembered a secret. A tiny, personal emergency pinger I' d built into my glove. With my last bit of strength, I tore the seam with my teeth and slammed my hand against my head. A faint click echoed in the silence. My revenge had just begun.
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Chapter 2

Elaina Valencia POV:

A chaotic symphony of creaks, groans, and the distant, muffled thump of something heavy. My head throbbed. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest.

I was alive. Barely.

My eyes fluttered open. The emergency lights cast long, distorted shadows around me. I was no longer in the main compartment, but shunted into a smaller, cramped utility space, like a discarded tool. The air was thick, heavy, tasting of metal and my own desperation. It felt like being buried alive.

Through a small, cracked viewport, I saw them. Jeffery and Jaden. They were above me, in what remained of the control room, their faces illuminated by the dim, flickering console lights.

"She tried to attack me!" Jaden' s voice, shrill and theatrical, sliced through the claustrophobic space. "She's completely unstable, Jeffery! We can't trust her!"

Jeffery, his face grim, turned to me. He shook me roughly, ignoring my fractured wrist. Pain flared, a white-hot spear through my arm.

I tried to speak, tried to tell him what really happened, to scream for help. But my throat was raw, my vocal cords paralyzed by the cold and lack of oxygen. Only a pathetic gasp escaped my lips.

Another crew member, one of Jeffery' s sycophants, peered down at me. "Looks like she's faking it, boss. Just trying to get attention."

Jeffery' s gaze, when it met mine, was filled with contempt. "Don't think you can manipulate me, Elaina. Not anymore. You're just trying to make us feel guilty."

Jaden, ever the actress, put a hand to her chest. "Maybe we should... check on her, Jeffery? Just in case?" Her eyes, however, held no trace of genuine concern. Only a calculating glint.

"Leave her," Jeffery growled, pushing Jaden gently away. "She' ll be fine. She always is. She' s too selfish to die."

He then grabbed my arm, dragging me further into the cramped utility space. The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air. With a grunt, he shoved me, unceremoniously, into an even tighter crevice, a forgotten storage pit now serving as my tomb. He kicked loose equipment over the opening, burying me.

He wiped his hands on his insulated gloves, a gesture of finality. A dismissal.

My vision swam. My body was giving out. But a desperate, primal urge for survival surged through me. My hand shot out, a last, feeble attempt to grab his leg, to pull him back, to make him see.

His foot stomped down on my fingers, grinding them against the cold metal. "Pathetic," he sneered, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Always so needy."

Jaden' s voice, soft and sweet, drifted down to me. "She just wasn't strong enough, darling. Some people just can't handle the pressure."

Then, they were gone. Their voices, their footsteps, swallowed by the groaning abyss and the endless, crushing silence.

I was alone. Truly alone. And this time, it was clear: they wanted me dead.

The cold was no longer just a chill; it was a hungry beast, gnawing at my extremities, stealing the warmth from my core. My body, already battered, began to shut down. Each breath was a painful effort, shallow and unsatisfying. My fingers, numb and stiff, brushed against my damaged deep-sea suit.

A tear. A jagged tear, just below my oxygen supply, right where Jaden had "accidentally" brushed against me. It wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. A slow, agonizing death.

A burning fire ignited deep within me, fueled by a rage so potent it momentarily cut through the hypothermia. No. Not like this. I was Elaina Valencia. I wouldn't let them win. I wouldn't let them erase me.

My primary emergency beacon. Destroyed by Jeffery. My comms. Smashed by Jaden.

But there was another. A secret. A tiny, self-made emergency pinger, built into the lining of my glove. A failsafe for a failsafe. A prototype that no one else knew about, not even Jeffery.

My fingers, stiff and frozen, fumbled at the seam of my glove. The pinger was small, designed for discreet activation. But my hands were numb, clumsy. Panic threatened to overwhelm me again. I couldn't open the compartment. I couldn't press the button.

No! I snarled, a silent, guttural scream. I wouldn't give up. Not now. Not when I was so close.

With a desperate surge of strength, I brought my gloved hand to my mouth. My teeth, chattering uncontrollably, clamped down on the fabric, tearing at the seam. It hurt, a dull ache that barely registered against the pain in my head and wrist. I pulled, twisted, gnawed.

Then, I slammed my head against my palm, a desperate, frantic motion. Once. Twice.

A faint click. A tiny, almost imperceptible vibrate. The pinger was active. A weak, desperate signal, screaming into the silent abyss. A tiny spark of defiance against the crushing darkness.

Relief washed over me, a dizzying wave that threatened to drag me into unconsciousness. My body went limp, the last reserves of adrenaline spent. My eyes fluttered closed.

A shadow fell over me.

My eyes snapped open. Jaden. She was back. She stood over me, her face a mask of cold curiosity.

"Still alive, are we?" she purred, her voice a cruel whisper. "Jeffery said you were tenacious. He wasn't wrong."

She held something in her hand. A small, jagged piece of metal. It shimmered faintly in the dim light. It was a shard from my destroyed comms unit, sharpened into a crude blade.

"Jeffery said you always got in his way," she continued, her eyes fixed on the makeshift knife. "He said you were always trying to outshine him. He hated it. He really, really hated it."

Each word was a poisoned dart, striking at the last vestiges of my heart. He hated me. My fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry.

"He said you relied too much on your 'genius'," Jaden sneered, mimicking Jeffery's tone perfectly. "He wanted to prove he could make it without you. He wanted to prove I could make it with him." She paused, then tilted her head, a chilling smile on her face. "Looks like we did, didn't we, Elaina?"

She tossed the sharpened metal shard carelessly beside my head. It clattered against the floor, a stark reminder of her malicious intent.

"Don't worry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one will ever know. We'll make sure of it."

Then, she was gone again. Leaving me, not just to die, but to drown in the bitter, icy truth of their betrayal. The truth of his hatred.

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