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His Mute Wife's Goodbye Revenge  Novel Cover

His Mute Wife's Goodbye Revenge

After five years as Vincent Hale's mute wife, Nyelle is publicly discarded when he chooses another woman and demands a divorce. She agrees—but not before launching a calculated revenge. Hiding behind a secret identity, she begins blackmailing the man who shattered her heart, leading him to believe a rival has taken the wife he never appreciated. The deeper Vincent searches for the blackmailer, the more consumed he becomes with the woman he was so eager to lose. Now the husband who once begged her to leave will do anything to keep her. But when the truth finally surfaces, can love salvage the marriage he destroyed?
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Chapter 2

Nyelle

"What kind of game are you playing right now?" Vincent's voice came out in a harsh whisper, but the anger inside it still made my chest tighten painfully.

His jaw flexed hard as he stared down at the words on my iPad like they personally offended him. The veins along his neck stood out sharply, and for a second, I almost laughed bitterly inside my head.

After five years of treating me like I was invisible, this was finally the moment he looked at me properly.

I swallowed against the lump burning inside my throat before typing again with shaky fingers.

"Or would you rather I tell everyone here that we're still married while you're proposing to another woman?"

The second he read it, his expression darkened instantly.

There it was. Not fear of losing me. Fear for his reputation, his company and becoming tomorrow's headline.

I watched his eyes sharpen dangerously before his hand suddenly shot forward, grabbing my wrist so tightly that pain rushed straight through my arm.

I nearly gasped. His grip burned.

"You spent five years staying invisible, and now you're threatening me?" he snapped under his breath, his face dangerously close to mine.

I could smell alcohol faintly on him mixed with his expensive cologne, the same scent that used to make my stupid heart race whenever he came home late at night.

Now it only made me feel sick. The room around us was still filled with soft music and quiet conversations, but somehow it felt distant, blurry, like I was underwater.

"People are watching," Cassia quickly whispered beside him, forcing out a fake smile for the guests nearby.

Vincent's fingers tightened once more before he finally let go of me.

I immediately pulled my wrist back, trying not to react to the throbbing pain shooting through it.

I quickly typed again before shoving the screen toward him.

"I'm trying to make a deal with you. What do you say?"

Vincent stared at the words for a long moment before dragging an irritated hand through his hair.

I could tell he was thinking fast. Calculating.

Trying to find the easiest way out like he always did.

"Say no," Cassia muttered sharply beside him, though her smile never left her face for the guests watching nearby. "Let her do whatever she wants."

Her voice was low, but the hatred inside it was impossible to miss.

Vincent immediately shook his head.

"No. I can't let anyone know I've been sleeping with that-"

He stopped himself halfway, but the damage was already done.

That. Not even her or Nyelle. Just that.

Like I was some disgusting mistake he regretted touching.

Cassia's expression shifted slightly in surprise, probably because even she didn't expect him to say it out loud.

Something sharp stabbed deep into my chest, but I forced myself to stand still.

Don't cry. Not in front of them.

"So what are you planning to do?" Cassia asked again quietly, her nails digging possessively into Vincent's arm.

For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he turned toward me fully, his eyes cold enough to freeze every last bit of hope still living inside me.

"Fine," he said flatly. "One month. After that, you'll disappear from my life forever."

My fingers trembled slightly around the iPad, but I still typed my response.

"Fine. One month is all I need."

The second he read it, I turned and walked away before either of them could see the tears filling my eyes again.

But I still heard Cassia's angry voice behind me.

"How are we supposed to get married now?" she hissed furiously. "That bitch knows exactly what she's doing. I won't let this happen."

I kept walking anyway. Each step felt heavier than the last as I made my way upstairs toward the bedroom I had slept in for five years.

The moment I pushed the bedroom door open, my entire body went still.

My suitcases were already sitting outside near the entrance like trash waiting to be thrown away.

Slowly, my eyes lifted toward the walls.

The wedding pictures were gone. Every single one.

The photo from our wedding day that I secretly loved staring at before sleeping.

The framed anniversary picture I placed beside the mirror myself. All of them had disappeared.

My breathing started becoming uneven. I rushed toward the wardrobe and pulled it open quickly.

Then I froze again. Another woman's clothes filled one entire side, with bright dresses, luxury handbags.

High heels lined neatly underneath.

Cassia's perfume lingered inside the space that once held my things.

A broken laugh almost escaped me.

So this had already been planned. While I was sitting alone at the hospital hearing that I was dying...They were here replacing me.

The pain hit too fast this time. My knees weakened slightly as tears finally spilled down my cheeks.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand even though no sound could come out anyway.

The silence somehow made the crying hurt worse.

Because no matter how broken I felt, I still couldn't scream.

All I could do was stand there shaking while tears rolled endlessly down my face.

By the time the guests finally left hours later, my eyes were swollen and burning painfully.

I was still sitting at the edge of the bed when the door suddenly opened again.

Cassia walked in confidently with her arms folded across her chest.

The smug look on her face instantly made my stomach twist.

"As you can see," she said while glancing around the room dramatically, "I've already moved in. So you'll be sleeping in the guest room from now on."

I slowly looked up at her. Then I stood.

Despite how weak my body felt, I forced myself to walk toward her calmly before lifting my iPad between us.

"I'm still his wife for one month," the screen read. "So who has more right to stay here? You or me?"

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