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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 4

Audie pushed open the heavy, peeling wooden door of her apartment and stepped inside.

She reached out in the pitch black and slapped her hand against the wall switch.

The cheap ceiling light flickered twice, buzzing loudly before finally casting a harsh yellow glow over her tiny living room.

She peeled off her soaked trench coat and dropped it onto the worn fabric of her sofa.

She kicked off her wet heels, her bare feet hitting the cold linoleum floor.

Her eyes immediately landed on the coffee table.

Sitting right in the center was a ceramic mug with Ryder's initials on it.

A sharp, physical pain stabbed directly behind her ribs.

She walked over, grabbed the mug by the handle, and tossed it straight into the metal trash can by the kitchen counter.

It hit the bottom with a loud, hollow thud.

She didn't stop moving.

She marched into the tiny bathroom and ripped open the mirrored medicine cabinet.

She grabbed Ryder's electric toothbrush, his shaving cream, and his expensive razor, sweeping them all into a black plastic garbage bag.

She moved to the bedroom next.

She yanked open the closet doors and ripped his spare dress shirts off their hangers, throwing them into the bag.

She was moving like a machine, her face completely blank, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser to check for any stray socks.

Her hand brushed against a small, velvet box tucked in the back corner.

She pulled it out and flipped the lid open.

Inside sat a cheap, silver-plated necklace. It was the very first gift Ryder had ever given her.

Her fingers stopped moving.

A sudden, intense burning sensation hit the back of her eyes, but she refused to let a single tear fall.

She let out a dry, bitter laugh.

She tossed the necklace, box and all, into the very bottom of the black garbage bag.

She tied the plastic handles into a tight, aggressive knot.

Carrying the two heavy bags, she walked out of her apartment and down the narrow hallway.

She yanked open the heavy metal door of the building's trash chute.

She shoved both bags into the dark hole and let go.

She listened to the heavy plastic scraping against the metal pipes as it plummeted down into the dumpster below.

She exhaled a long, shaky breath, feeling a fraction of the weight lift off her chest.

When she walked back into her apartment, her cell phone was lighting up on the kitchen counter.

The screen displayed fourteen missed calls from Ryder.

Her face hardened into stone.

She tapped his contact name, scrolled to the bottom, and hit Block this Caller.

She walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing freezing cold water onto her face.

She gripped the edges of the porcelain sink and stared at her pale reflection in the mirror.

She slapped her own cheeks twice, hard, forcing the color back into her skin.

She walked over to her small desk and flipped open her MacBook.

The screen flared to life, illuminating her face in a stark white glow.

She opened her work email and downloaded the massive financial dossier for the Jarvis Dynamics merger.

As a junior analyst on Wall Street, this file was her only ticket out of this miserable life.

She forced her brain to shut down every personal emotion and stared at the rows of financial data.

At exactly 2:00 AM, a bright notification banner slid across the top right corner of her screen.

It was a new email.

The sender name read: Eleanor Bell.

The subject line was: Liam's Trust Fund Renewal Documents.

Audie's hand jerked. Her fingers clamped down on the plastic mouse so hard the joints popped.

She clicked the email open.

There was no greeting. Just a single, icy sentence: Call me tomorrow morning.

Audie knew exactly what this was.

It was the leash. The ultimate weapon her adoptive family used to keep her in line.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against her chair.

The heavy, suffocating pressure of the storm had finally arrived inside her apartment.

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