The Revenge of the Billionaire's Ex-wife and Friend

RENEE.

I bent down over the brick walkway of the alley, my breath harsh and irregular. For a brief instant, I granted myself the privilege of breathing, my whole body shaking. But reality gripped me: I was still at risk. The terror racing through my veins provided me with a final surge of energy as I pushed myself to stand, staggering onto the busy main street and hailing a cab with a frantic gesture.

The taxi came to a screeching stop, and I practically jumped into the back seat, shutting the door forcefully.

"Where to?" the driver inquired, looking at me via the rearview mirror. He did not say anything regarding my rough appearance.

“My apartment,” I wheezed, reciting my address. I reclined in the seat, my head throbbing and my heart racing. I gazed out the window, attempting to make sense of what happened tonight, but my mind was malfunctioning.

As soon as the taxi arrived at my building, I tossed a wad of cash to the driver without counting it and dashed inside. Once inside my apartment, I secured the door, sliding each bolt into position and engaging the chain lock. It was only then that I permitted myself to breathe correctly.

My body felt weighty as I walked toward the bathroom. I removed my clothes, now soaked with sweat and dirt, and entered the shower. The heated water flowed over me, cleansing the grime but leaving the memories intact. I shut my eyes and held onto the tiled wall as the vision of those chilling blue eyes hidden by the black mask surged in my thoughts.

“Kito?,” I murmured, my voice quavering. Could it truly be him?

No. It couldn’t be true. Kito was Seb's closest friend, his assistant, and the COO of Seb's company. They had remained unbreakable for years. It can't be him. It must have been someone who merely resembled him.

I shut off the water and exited, enveloping myself in a towel. After drying my hair with a towel, I left it hanging to dry, too tired to bother. After putting on pajama pants and a tank top, I strolled into the kitchen. My thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind, and my body moved on autopilot while I made a sandwich.

Seb had pleaded with me not to abandon him this evening. Implored me to rescue him, to remain by his side. And still, when the threat appeared, he had fled, abandoning me. The recollection hurt, and betrayal blossomed within me. I held the counter firmly, my knuckles turning pale.

"You're an idiot, Renee," I whispered to myself. Tears welled in my eyes, but I wouldn't allow them to drop. Seb had always been self-centered. I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I pivoted, plate in hand, prepared to bring my sandwich to the living room when I halted suddenly.

Casually leaning against the wall was a tall silhouette, clad in black and wearing a mask that obscured his face. His cold blue gaze penetrated me, unwavering and unsettling.

The plate fell from my grasp, crashing onto the table. My hands raised in surrender while a whimper slipped from my mouth. “I—I didn’t do a thing,” I whimpered. "I don't know a thing, I promise. Please, I won't utter a single word!”

The figure remained still, not even twitching. Instead, he propelled himself away from the wall and approached me with a calculated, hunting prowl.

I reeled backward, my heart pounding vigorously in my chest. "Please," I pleaded, tears now streaming down. “Please don’t harm me.”

The man halted suddenly, his figure hesitating—if just a bit—upon seeing my tears. For an instant, a feeling sparkled in those blue eyes, too brief to identify before it vanished. He plunged his hand into his pocket, and I prepared myself, anticipating a weapon.

Instead, he took out an envelope and a bunch of keys, throwing them onto the table. My gaze shifted to the objects, and realization hit. The keys and deeds for the theater. Seb's farewell present.

As I gazed at the figure, my fear was overtaken by confusion. “What—”

Just as I was about to complete my sentence, the man lifted his hand and tore off his mask.

I gasped a breadth. In the end, my doubts were correct. "Kito?" I spoke softly, my voice just barely heard.

He stared at me furiously, his jaw clenched. "Have a seat," he instructed, his tone deep and raspy.

I obeyed in a trance, settling into the closest chair. My thoughts raced, attempting to understand what was occurring. Kito searched my cabinets until he discovered a first-aid kit. He pulled up a chair next to me and began tending to the bullet grazes on my arm.

I winced at the sharpness of the antiseptic but remained silent, my mind too chaotic to articulate clear thoughts. The quietness around us was intense, disrupted only by the occasional sound of the medical kit.

Ultimately, Kito ended the silence. “What were you doing down there this evening, Renee?”

The question surprised me. It was the first time he was ever speaking to me directly, and hearing my name from him felt unusual. I cleared my throat.

“The theater is owned by my family—”

“I know that,” he cut in, his voice sharp. "However, you haven't visited in years. Why this evening?"

My lips opened in astonishment, but I didn’t ask how he was aware of that. Instead, I gestured faintly towards the objects on the table. “Seb… he was passing it over to me. As a farewell present." My tone became resentful. "A divorce present."

Kito halted, his hands coming to a stop. He glared at me, his blue eyes filled with rage. “So why,” he stated slowly, his tone steady yet dangerous, “the hell, didn’t you run to save yourself and abandon him?”

The question lingered in the air, and my breath was trapped in my throat. I had just one response.

I was clearly a fool.