The Betrayed Bride's Ultimate Retribution

Evelyn POV:

My father watched Belen go, a faint smile playing on his lips. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he said, turning back to me.

His words were light, but his eyes were still assessing, calculating. He always found a way to spin things to his advantage, to make me feel like I was doing him a favor.

I remained silent, my face giving nothing away. The coldness inside me was a shield, a fortress. It had to be.

He noticed my lack of response. His smile faltered slightly.

"Well, now that that's settled," he continued, clearing his throat. "We need to find you a suitable match. The Morgan alliance might be complicated now, but there are other powerful families."

He started listing names, families with wealth, influence, and most importantly, "pure bloodlines" that would elevate our standing. My father was a social climber, always looking for the next rung on the ladder.

"No," I cut him off, the word sharp, decisive.

He stopped, mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing. "No? What do you mean, 'no,' Evelyn?"

"I've made my choice," I stated, my voice calm. It surprised even me, the clarity with which I spoke.

"And who might that be?" he asked, a hint of impatience in his tone. "Don't tell me it's some artistic type, or a scholar. We need strength, Evelyn. Legacy. Blood."

His disparaging tone was meant to dissuade me, to remind me of my place. But I wouldn't be swayed.

"Ingram Salinas," I said.

The name hung in the air, weighted with generations of faded glory and recent disgrace.

My father blinked. Once, twice. Then he burst out laughing. A harsh, humorless sound.

"Ingram Salinas? Are you serious?" he scoffed. "The Salinas family is a joke! They're practically bankrupt. Their lineage is... mixed. They lost their seat on the consortium years ago. No one marries a Salinas, Evelyn. They're overlooked. Forgotten."

He wasn't wrong. Publicly, the Salinas family was a shadow of its former self. Their once-great empire had crumbled, their unique "half-beast" lineage, once revered, now viewed with suspicion and distaste by the "pure-blooded" elites. Their ancient traditions, misunderstood. Their quiet, reserved nature seen as aloofness.

No one wanted to marry into the Salinas family anymore. They had been systematically marginalized, their power slowly eroded.

Except...

Except Ingram.

I remembered him from my past life. A quiet man, always in the background, observing. He was often dismissed as cold, perhaps even simple, because he rarely spoke unless necessary. But his eyes, when they met mine, held a depth I'd never seen in Dedric's calculating gaze.

In my darkest moments, after Dedric had betrayed me, after Belen had poisoned my life, Ingram was the one who had tried to help. Not with grand gestures, but with quiet acts of kindness, small pieces of information, a warning here, a word of comfort there. He couldn't save me then. He was too powerless, too overlooked. But he had tried.

He possessed a kindness and loyalty that Dedric and Belen could never comprehend. He valued genuine connection, not status.

And he had admired me. From afar, in that past life. He saw me, not just my status as Dedric's wife.

"I will marry Ingram Salinas," I repeated, my resolve unshakeable.

My father stared at me, his laughter gone, replaced by a flicker of confusion, then annoyance. He opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. He had just gotten rid of the Dedric problem. He probably didn't want a new one.

"Fine," he grumbled, defeated. "Have it your way. But don't come crying to me when his 'connections' don't amount to anything." He forced a strained smile. "At least you're finally out of Dedric's way, and Belen can focus on securing the Morgan heir."

Just then, the door burst open. Belen stood there, her face flushed with triumph, Dedric Morgan beside her. He looked… satisfied. Smug, even.

"What's this I hear?" Belen purred, her eyes glittering as she took in my father's resigned expression. "You're marrying a Salinas? Oh, Evelyn, darling, you really are pathetic."

She laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Do you even know what you're getting into? They don't have a penny to their name! And their bloodline... so diluted. You'll never produce a proper heir with him. Not like Dedric and I will."

Her gaze drifted to Dedric, who gave her a possessive squeeze of the hand. They were a picture of toxic ambition.

In my last life, Dedric had kept me pregnant for years, pushing for more heirs to secure his position. He saw my fertile womb as a weapon.

Belen believed my past difficulties in conceiving were a sign of my weakness, a flaw. She didn't know the lengths I'd gone to, the secret treatments, the pain I endured just to give Dedric what he wanted. She certainly didn't know the truth about my children's eventual fate.

"Some people value love and loyalty, Belen," I said, my voice even. "Not just status and what a child can do for them."

Her triumphant smile faltered. A hint of unease crossed her face.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, trying to regain her composure. "You wouldn't know love if it bit you. You're just jealous. But don't worry, Dedric and I will have a child quickly. A real heir. The first heir. And then you'll see who truly wins."

I met her gaze, a small, knowing smile touching my lips. "We'll see, Belen. We'll certainly see."