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The Vengeful Ex-Wife's High Society Comeback Novel Cover

The Vengeful Ex-Wife's High Society Comeback

Six years ago, I was driven out of Manhattan with nothing but the clothes on my back. My two-year-old son, Alex, was dead, and I was branded the monster who killed him. My husband, Corwin, threw me away without a second glance, choosing to protect his new fiancée—my cousin Evelina, the real murderer. When I finally returned to their elite engagement party, everyone thought I was still that pathetic, broken woman. Evelina dug her acrylic nails into my skin, warning me to stay away from her man. Corwin looked at me like I was rotting garbage. To publicly humiliate me at their private yacht party, he forced me to drink three full bottles of neat whiskey in front of the city's elite. "For every drop you spill, I add another bottle," he commanded coldly. I drank until my stomach tore open, collapsing onto shattered glass and coughing up dark red blood while they watched with predatory joy. They thought they had won. They thought I was finally destroyed. They didn't know the trembling hands and the terrified tears were all a carefully calculated act. I wiped the blood from my chin and smiled. I didn't come back to this city to clear my name or beg for forgiveness. I came back to drag every single one of them to hell.
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Chapter 2

Evelina grabbed two fresh glasses of champagne from a waiter. She plastered on a flawless, high-society smile and marched toward the secluded lounge area.

Corinne sat alone on the velvet sofa. She watched her cousin approach. Her index finger tapped a rapid, silent rhythm against the leather of her clutch bag. She took a breath, instantly relaxing her facial muscles into a mask of pure vulnerability.

"Corinne, darling," Evelina cooed. Her voice was dripping with artificial sweetness. Her eyes, however, scanned Corinne from head to toe like a security laser, searching for threats.

Corinne reached out to take the offered glass. She forced her hand to shake. A violent, uncontrolled tremor. A few drops of the pale liquid sloshed over the rim and splashed onto the back of her hand.

Evelina caught the tremor immediately. A flash of pure contempt lit up her eyes. She sat down right next to Corinne, pressing their shoulders together.

"I have to admit, I'm shocked," Evelina whispered, leaning in close. "Why on earth are you here with Justus Wilson? You know he's Corwin's biggest rival."

Corinne lowered her eyelashes. The thick lashes hid the absolute zero temperature of her stare. She made her voice crack.

"I... I didn't have a choice. He offered me a way back."

Evelina took a sip of her drink. "A way back to what? Six years ago, you left this city in pieces. Have you forgotten what happened?"

Corinne's shoulders jerked upward. Her breathing hitched, turning rapid and shallow. She acted exactly like a woman plunging headfirst into a severe PTSD flashback.

She slammed the champagne glass down onto the coffee table. Her hands flew to her lap. She twisted her fingers together until the knuckles turned white. The act was so pathetic it made her own stomach churn with disgust.

Evelina watched the panic attack. The rigid tension in her own spine melted away. The wariness was replaced by a sickening, arrogant pity.

"I... I've been seeing a therapist," Corinne stammered, her chest heaving. "Dr. Evans. He said... he said I needed closure."

"Closure?" Evelina raised an eyebrow.

"I can't sleep," Corinne whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "I have nightmares. Every night. He told me I had to face the environment where the trauma happened."

Evelina almost laughed. New York was nothing but a graveyard for Corinne. It was a pathetic excuse. But Evelina nodded, pretending to swallow the lie.

Evelina reached out and placed her hand over Corinne's trembling fingers. Beneath the guise of comfort, Evelina pressed down hard. Her sharp acrylic nails dug viciously into the soft flesh of Corinne's hand.

Pain shot up Corinne's arm. She didn't pull away. Instead, she lifted her head. A single tear spilled over her lower lid and tracked down her cheek. She looked at Evelina with wide, terrified eyes.

Evelina leaned closer, her lips brushing Corinne's ear.

"Stay away from Corwin," Evelina hissed, the sweetness completely gone from her voice. "If you try to play the victim with him, I will ruin whatever is left of your miserable life."

More tears cascaded down Corinne's face. She nodded frantically, her chin trembling like a frightened child.

Evelina smiled. She released her grip. She looked down at the deep, red half-moon indentations left on Corinne's skin. Total dominance.

Just as Evelina prepared to stand up, a shadow fell over them. Corwin appeared at the entrance of the lounge area.

Evelina's face transformed instantly. The viciousness vanished, replaced by angelic concern. She raised her voice just enough for Corwin to hear.

"Oh, Corinne, it's okay. I'm here for you. We'll get you the help you need."

Corinne looked up through her blurry, tear-filled vision. She saw Corwin. She violently flinched, shrinking back into the corner of the sofa.

Corwin's cold eyes swept over the scene. His gaze snagged on Corinne's wet face and trembling shoulders. He stared at her tears for exactly half a second.

He didn't step forward. He didn't offer a word of comfort. He turned his back on her, speaking sharply to a passing waiter.

"Bring my fiancée a fresh drink."

Corinne watched his broad back as he walked toward the bar. The tears kept falling, but the corners of her mouth twitched. A microscopic, chilling smile formed where Evelina couldn't see it.

Evelina stood up quickly. She hurried after Corwin, slipping her arm through his. Before they turned the corner, Evelina shot one last triumphant glare over her shoulder at Corinne.

Corinne sat alone in the dim light. She casually wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She opened her clutch and pulled out her phone. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing a heavily encrypted message.

Phase one remote digital tracker initiated on the target's social network pings.

She hit send. The confirmation pinged back instantly.

Corinne picked up the champagne glass she had abandoned. She downed the liquid in one smooth swallow. Her eyes were dry. They were as cold and sharp as shattered glass.

From the hallway outside the lounge, the shrill, piercing laugh of Candi Hodges echoed off the walls. The next wave of humiliation was walking right toward her.

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