My Husband Cheated With My Best Friend, So I Came Back for Revenge

Aleena Cook wasn't surprised by the shock written all over everyone's faces. In her past life, her forgiving nature had let Julian Mason and Aya Morales walk all over her—stomp her sincerity straight into the dirt.

She'd never forget the final days of that life. How Julian and Aya drove her to the edge of madness. That gut-wrenching moment when Julian hurled the birthday cake she'd made with so much love onto the ground. He actually believed she'd hurt Aya when Aya tripped on the stairs. Julian was convinced it was all Aleena's doing. He slapped her hard, spitting out the cruelest words, refusing to hear a single word she said. In his eyes, Aya was his precious jewel, while Aleena? Just some sneaky little liar.

Late one night, she waited in the living room for Julian to come home, desperate to explain she'd never touched Aya. The door slammed open. Julian stumbled in, reeking of booze, and yanked her up by the arm. She tried to pull away, but he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. The cold, brutal kiss that followed nearly stole her breath.

"What are you doing, Julian?" she protested, her voice shaking.

He smirked, his face twisted with cruel mockery. "Isn't this what you wanted? I'm just giving you what you crave so you'll leave Aya alone."

The storm of abuse shattered every last hope Aleena held. She cried quietly, enduring the torment. Morning light slipped through the window, casting pale rays on Aleena as she lay bruised and broken in the bed. She trembled, tracing her fingers over the bloodstains on the sheets. That night had been nothing short of torture.

Aleena lost all faith in Julian. She wanted out. A divorce. Anything to escape this nightmare. But she never saw the obstacles coming. When the phone rang, she weakly lifted her hand to answer. On the other end—a heart-wrenching sob. "Aleena, something's happened to your brother!"

Her mind went blank. Without a second thought, she threw on clothes and rushed out. Stumbling to the scene, she shoved through the crowd, only to be met with bloodstains and her brother's pale, lifeless face. She fainted. When she came to, she was in a hospital bed, and Julian was sitting nearby. His next words shoved her straight into hell.

"Aleena, how does it feel to lose someone you love? That was my gift to you," he said, grinning cruelly. "That's what happens when you hurt Aya. Your brother got exactly what he deserved for trying to help you."

Aleena's whole body shook. Her heart caved in with agony. And then the phone rang again. Julian grabbed it first. He listened, and Aleena could hear the sorrow and fear leaking through the line. "Aleena, come home quick. Your mother… she took her own life."

Aleena collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She was completely powerless—and Julian seemed satisfied by her misery, his face twisted into a malevolent smile. "When I told your mother the truth, her expression was just as entertaining as yours," he said.

Aleena wanted to escape this hellish prison, wanted justice for her family. But her enemies had other plans. Aya had her taken from the hospital. When Aleena opened her eyes, she was in a dark, filthy basement that reeked of rot. Her hands were bound behind her back. She struggled, she screamed for help—but the more she panicked, the more Aya seemed to enjoy the show.

"Aleena, there's no point in fighting. No one's coming for you," Aya taunted, watching with a cold smile. "I've been waiting for this day for so long."

"Aya, I thought you were my friend. And you betray me like this?"

"Friend? Aleena, you're pathetic. But I should call you by your real name—shouldn't I call you Aleena Campbell?"

"What? You're her child?" Aleena's eyes went wide with terror as she stared into Aya's gaze—so eerily identical to that woman from the past. "No… her child died…"

"Died? Did you really think I was dead? For seventeen years, I remembered everything. And now… it's your turn to feel my despair," Aya declared.

A group of men lunged at Aleena like wolves. She fought back desperately, broke free, even knocked one to the ground.

"Hold her down!" Aya commanded. "The boss's orders!"

Aleena was pinned to the floor, helpless. She screamed in agony while Aya watched with pure delight.

The ordeal ended with Aleena lying motionless on the floor. Aya leaned in close, her whisper like poison. "Today's little game? Courtesy of Julian."

"Aya… you and your mother are vile… you'll rot for this!" Aleena spat, her spirit crushed but her fury still burning. With every ounce of strength left, she hurled herself at the wall—determined to escape this hell by any means necessary.

"Stop her!" Aya shrieked, but it was too late. Aleena crumpled into a bloody heap and didn't move.

Aleena died. She ended her suffering.

Looking back on her previous life now, Aleena could only see it as a sick joke. Despite her prestigious family name, she'd been pushed out of her inheritance by scheming relatives, ending up with her mother in the faded remains of the Cook family home. She fought her way into university, hoping for a quiet, normal life—only to get dragged into Julian's world, where old family feuds and hidden agendas resurfaced with a vengeance.

She'd been a sacrificial lamb. Aleena finally understood that Aya's hatred came from her mother's grudge against a mistress. Aleena's biological father, Victor Campbell, was a notorious playboy—even after marriage. Aya's mother got pregnant during that sordid affair.

Seventeen years ago, a young Aleena had carried a box to a woman perched on a high stool. The woman took it like it was a precious treasure. And then—in the next heartbeat—she screamed and fell. The fatal box tumbled onto the balcony floor below.

In that past life, Aleena had been so naive, foolishly believing she could finally have a peaceful life as a Campbell daughter. Instead, she ended up ruined, disgraced, and dead. This time around, she swore she wouldn't repeat her mistakes. She would have her revenge. She would make Julian and Aya taste the same pain they'd forced down her throat.