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Revenge of the Billionaire's Betrayed Bride Novel Cover

Revenge of the Billionaire's Betrayed Bride

Dear Diary, The night before my wedding, I found my fiancé Silas having sex with my stepsister Bridget. On the bed we were supposed to share. Yeah. My bed. Humiliated. Shattered. Betrayed by blood and by vow. I should’ve walked away, but Bridget had other plans. One shove cracked my skull and sent me to an early death. Only, death wasn’t the end. I woke up eight months earlier. Same liars. Same snakes. But this time, I’m not the girl who walks away—I’m the storm that burns everything down. Silas? He can rot. I won’t be marrying him. No, I’ll be marrying Adrian Richardson—billionaire, ruthless playboy, and Bridget’s precious ex. He’s rich, lethal, and so intoxicating it’s dangerous. The kind of man who ruins you with silk sheets at night and a smirk in a three-piece suit by day. But here’s the twist: I’m not the sweet little fool they remember. I won't be his toy. Luckily for me i do know how to fake a smile, kiss like a queen yet when I choose a target I make sure I destroy them whole. What started as revenge has turned into something hotter, darker, and far more dangerous. Because in this game of lust, power, and betrayal—everyone has something to lose. And me? I’ll burn the whole damn world before I lose again. This isn’t your average billionaire romance. It’s fast, filthy, and addictive. The kind of story that keeps you awake at 3 a.m., whispering, just one more chapter.
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Chapter 6

By now, no one should be home. Alice was always at her spa by noon. Bridget at her gym pretending to "train."

The Crawfords' mansion had never felt like home, but today, it felt like a chessboard.

“Let’s begin.”

From her bag, she pulled out the tiny cameras she’d purchased on the deep web. They weren’t cheap she had to drain one of her crypto wallets for them — but they were worth every cent.

She started with the common areas: the living room, the hallways, even the kitchen. She placed one behind the chandelier in the dining room, one under the glass coffee table in the lounge, and one inside the large vase by the stairs.

Then she reached the master bedroom — Alice and my adopted father’s room. It was quite bigger than the rest of the other room

She slipped a camera into the bookshelf, another near the bed frame.

Something tugged at her mind and she stared at the desktop on the dresser.

Her gut told her to check it.

She powered it on, bypassed the simple password (Alice’s birthday — amateur), then hit the first wall: an encrypted system inside.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding, Mother,” Fidelia muttered, her fingers flying across the keyboard. It took her five minutes to break through.

And what she found made her blood turn to ice. She saw her room live on screen

She clicked through other folders. Video archives.

They’d been watching her. Sleeping. Dressing. Crying.

They’d been watching everything.

A hollow laugh left her throat. “So that’s your game? Watching me like a lab rat?”

Two can play at this game.

She wiped every video of herself clean, replacing them with glitching static feeds. If they checked, it would look like a corrupted system.

Then she inserted her flash drive and copied everything else — all their video archives, encrypted files, and even personal emails. She didn’t know what she’d find yet, but she would use it.

Then, the CCTV alert chimed. A live feed popped up, showing Bridget and Aliceat the front door, and she was punching in the pin.

“Shit.”

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, overriding the system. She scrambled into the admin settings and set a temporary lock.

“Invalid code,” the screen read.

Outside, Bridget cursed. “What’s going on? Did you change the code?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alice snapped, trying again.

Invalid!

“Why isn’t this working?”

Fidelia smirked. “Not today.”

She yanked her flash drive out, closed every program, and powered the computer down. Then she bolted out and ran to her room.

It was only after Fidelia calmed herself that she came out of her room and found her stepmother and stepsister in the living room.

“We’re back,” the stepmother said.

“Welcome,” Fidelia replied casually.

They turned to look at her, then glanced at each other before looking back. Their expressions shifted instantly, surprise, maybe even confusion.

“You… you’ve changed all of a sudden,” the stepsister said, her tone unsure.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your date? At least after this round?” the stepmother asked.

“I’ll be leaving soon,” Fidelia said, unfazed. “I bought a new outfit, so I came home to change.”

“Oh, that’s true,” the stepmother muttered, her expression still caught between surprise and something else.

“You… look really different,” the stepsister added. Her words sounded like a compliment, but the uncertainty in her voice betrayed her feelings—she wasn’t sure if she was impressed or simply displeased that Fila suddenly looked stunning.

“Yeah,” Fidelia said, brushing off their stares. “I changed my haircut too. I didn’t like the old look.”

Without giving them more time to respond, she turned and walked back into her room.

She had two things to accomplish today, and she was ready.

By the end of today, she would have prepared shocking news on her enemies. She made sure every plan was in place.

Fidelia stepped out of the house and got into her car.

She looked really hot and sexy so much so that Alice and Bridget couldn’t help but suspect something was up

Fidelia got into her car, ready to drive.

Just then, she received a message from Silas: "I’m already here, waiting for you."

She quickly replied, "I’m almost there. Order me a good wine—I’m really craving it."

Fifteen minutes later, she arrived.

It was a truly fancy restaurant—one of those places popular among the rich.

Fidelia halted for a moment and smiled, staring at the glowing sign. This is good… really good, she thought.

She walked inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

As she scanned the room, she spotted Silas waving at her from a table in the distance. But she wasn’t looking at him.

Her eyes locked onto someone else.

A strikingly handsome man—clearly wealthy—sat not far from Silas. His suit was perfectly tailored, the top buttons undone, revealing just enough of his chest. He was on his phone, looking effortlessly powerful.

Fidelia walked closer, heart racing slightly, and then spoke.

"There you are," she said, her tone smooth. "Hi, I’m Fidelia."

She stretched out her hand to shake his, taking in his presence.

Seeing him in person now… she felt something strange.

She had met him somewhere before—she was sure of it. But she couldn’t quite remember where.

Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise.

He had met her just last night.

They had a one-night stand.

Is she pretending… or does she really not remember? he thought to himself, keeping his expression neutral.

“You already know who I am,” Andrew said calmly, “and a lot about me already.”

He shook her hand firmly, then gestured for her to sit.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she gave his shoulder a light tap. “I’ll be back. I have to take care of a big mess,” she said casually.

Without waiting for a response, Fidelia turned and walked away, her heels echoing against the marble floor.

Andrian turned his head, watching as she confidently strode toward another section of the restaurant.

Fidelia walked back and sat down at the table Silas had reserved for the two of them.

“Who was that?” she asked casually.

“Never mind,” Silas replied, glancing briefly in the direction she’d gone earlier. “That was Bridget.”

“Oh,” Fidelia said, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter.

“You’re late,” Silas added, his tone teasing but with a hint of reproach.

“Yeah… I had to take care of something,” Fidelia replied smoothly.

Silas didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere, so he simply nodded and said, “Okay.”

Then, with a small smile, he opened the menu. “I already have an idea of what we should have.”

But before Fidelia could respond, Silas snapped his fingers.

Almost immediately, a small band of musicians appeared from the side of the restaurant, playing a soft, romantic tune on their trumpets. One of them handed Silas a bouquet of fresh roses, which he took with ease.

The sound of the music made several diners turn their heads toward them.

Fidelia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What are you up to, Silas?”

Then Silas stood up.

Seeing this, Fidelia slowly stood too, sensing something unusual.

He walked closer to her, then suddenly dropped down on one knee.

The restaurant gasped in unison, a quiet murmur spreading among the guests as they all turned to watch.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him pull a small velvet box from his pocket.

Silas opened it, revealing a sparkling ring.

His eyes locked onto hers as he said, firmly and clearly,

“Fidelia Crawford… will you marry me?”

Gasps and whispers filled the room. Someone nearby muttered, “Oh my God, he’s proposing!” while another diner whispered excitedly, “She’s so lucky.”

Fidelia blinked in surprise, then smirked slightly. “You sure know how to draw attention,” she whispered teasingly.

“Only for you,” Silas replied with a confident smile, still holding the ring out toward her.

“Say yes!” A woman at another table suddenly called out, making the room chuckle softly.

Now, every eye in the restaurant was on her, waiting.

Everyone was expecting her to say “yes.” But if only they knew that the e person she was about to marry was the devil himself. Someone who had killed her, at least, that was what it felt like.

Fidelia laughed suddenly, covering her mouth. “No… no, I won’t,” she said.

And then—silence.

The entire restaurant went still. Forks paused mid-air. The music faltered.

“No?” Silas repeated, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

She met his gaze, her eyes cold. “No. I’m not going to get married to you. The engagement is off.”

The band stopped playing, an awkward silence spreading like wildfire.

People were whispering now. Why did she say no? What’s happening?

Silas slowly rose to his feet, confusion and anger swirling in his expression. “Fidelia, come on… stop joking,” he said, his voice unsteady. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t reply.

Instead, Fidelia calmly poured herself a glass of wine, lifted it to her lips, and took a slow drink as if nothing had happened. Then, without looking back at him, she turned and walked away.

Some distance away, behind one of the pillars, someone had been watching the entire scene unfold—Andrew.

So… she was even engaged? he thought, stunned. What was the whole deal with asking her to marry him? Was it because of this?

Silas followed her, his steps heavy, calling her name in a low, desperate tone.

But Fidelia ignored him.

She walked with purpose, heels clicking against the marble floor, until she arrived at another table—Andrew’s.

She sat down across from him without a word, her face composed as if nothing had happened.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” she asked him, her voice soft but commanding

"And hold my hands like we are a couple."

"What...why should i. I barely know you, " Andrian said, sounding like he wasn’t impressed by her tone.

"Have you forgotten about your assets so soon?" Fidelia said with a grin.

"Fine." Andrian closed his eyes and sighed, accepting his fate. By that time, Silas was already by their table.

Seeing this, Andrian stood up, and then he moved close to Fidelia.

"Babe, let's go," Andrian said with a smile and caught Fidelia off guard as he stretched his hand.

'Hmm, you pick up fast..perfect.' She wouldn't lie his action caught her by surprise.

But then another surprise happened.

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