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Sweet Revenge: Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Nemesis Novel Cover

Sweet Revenge: Marrying My Ex's Ruthless Nemesis

I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us. But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum. They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families. To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister. Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments. The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell. "Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members." He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress. For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed. Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power. Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911. If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.
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Chapter 3

Audie stood frozen in the freezing rain, her eyes locked on the narrow gap of the tinted window.

Ryder swallowed hard, his bravado completely shattered by the oppressive aura of the vehicle.

He took another step back, but his bruised ego forced him to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" Ryder stammered, his voice cracking. "Mind your own business."

The driver's side door of the Maybach popped open.

A massive man in a tailored black suit stepped out, a large black umbrella snapping open in his hands.

The bodyguard ignored Ryder entirely.

He walked straight to Audie, holding the umbrella over her head, instantly cutting off the freezing rain.

With his free hand, the bodyguard pulled open the heavy rear door of the Maybach and offered her a polite nod.

Audie glanced back at Ryder, who was standing in the puddle, looking pathetic and soaked.

She clenched her jaw, made a split-second decision, and ducked her head.

She climbed into the cavernous, luxurious back seat of the Maybach.

The heavy door clicked shut behind her, sealing out the noise of the storm and Ryder's existence.

The air inside the car was warm and dry.

It smelled incredible-a sharp, clean scent of cedarwood mixed with the faint, expensive linger of a cigar.

Audie perched awkwardly on the very edge of the seat, terrified her soaked trench coat would ruin the pristine leather.

She turned her head to look at the man sitting beside her.

The cabin was cloaked in shadows. She could only make out the sharp, aggressive line of his jaw and the broad width of his shoulders.

He was leaning back against the seat, his long legs stretched out, his large hands resting casually on his knees.

The Maybach accelerated smoothly, leaving Ryder standing alone in the downpour.

"Thank you," Audie whispered, her voice trembling slightly from the cold and the adrenaline crash.

The man didn't say a word.

He reached into a hidden compartment between the seats and pulled out a folded square of dark fabric.

He held out a clean, dry silk handkerchief toward her. His movements were fluid, almost practiced.

Audie reached out to take it.

As her fingers closed around the silk, her skin accidentally brushed against the back of his hand.

His skin was cool to the touch.

For a split second, the rhythmic sound of his breathing seemed to stop.

His head turned slightly, his dark eyes locking onto the side of her face with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

Audie quickly pulled her hand back and pressed the silk to her wet forehead.

The handkerchief smelled exactly like him-that intoxicating blend of cold cedar and smoke.

From the front seat, the driver's voice broke the silence. "Where to, sir?"

The man beside her shifted slightly.

"Your address," he said. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

"Brooklyn," Audie said, rattling off the street name of her rundown apartment building.

When she said the borough, she saw the man's brow furrow slightly in the shadows.

The car fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

For ten minutes, the only sound was the rhythmic thump-thump of the windshield wipers pushing away the rain.

The proximity to this stranger was making Audie's skin prickle with an intense, unexplainable heat.

She needed to break the tension.

"I can pay you for the ride," Audie blurted out. "Or for the dry cleaning of the seat."

A low, deep chuckle vibrated from the man's chest.

The sound did strange things to Audie's pulse.

He turned his head fully toward her. As the car passed beneath a streetlamp, a flash of golden light illuminated his face.

His eyes were strikingly intense, framed by dark lashes.

"Keep your money," he said softly.

He looked away, staring out the window into the rain. "Just a business expense."

The Maybach slowed to a crawl.

It pulled up to the curb right in front of Audie's dilapidated brick apartment building.

The contrast between the million-dollar vehicle and the graffiti-covered stoop was jarring.

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