Abandoned Wife Rebirth To Slap Faces - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Crack!
Cora's hand struck Georgia's face, sending her crashing to the floor.
Georgia lay there, broken like a tossed-out doll, as Cora's rhinestone-studded heel dug into her cheek.
Cora's smirk was pure poison. "Georgia, don't blame anyone but yourself. You were just too damn dumb. Think I'm the only one who's got it in for you? Think again.
"You really believe Samuel screwed you over for kicks? And Daphne—think she snapped your arm in a random rage?"
Cora's voice dripped venom. "Oh, and that miscarriage at seven months? You bought that Louis 'tripped' and pushed you down the stairs? Nope. You stole her spot."
She leaned in, words sharp as knives. "And your mom? You think she died because you stressed her out? Three years ago, she caught Gemma spiking your drink and tried to play hero. Bad move.
"I knocked her out cold. Gemma shot her up with some mystery junk, and—poof—two days later, she was gone."
Georgia's nails clawed into her palms, blood seeping as Cora's truths gutted her.
For three years, she'd drowned in guilt over her mom's death, thinking her in-laws' cruelty was her mom's ghost getting even.
But it was all lies. The mastermind? Gemma Kirkland.
All because Georgia married Louis and took the "Mrs. Rathbone" crown Gemma wanted. They'd teamed up to drag her straight to hell.
Georgia screamed, raw and ragged, her fury breaking free.
"What's that? Wanna make us pay?" Cora scoffed, lifting her heel off Georgia's face.
She sank into a chair, wiping her shoe with a tissue like she'd stepped in crap. "You? A pathetic, washed-up nobody? You've got no shot.
"I could crush you like a roach. Your life's headed for the gutter, where trash like you belongs."
She flicked the dirty tissue onto Georgia's face and strutted off, heels clicking like a taunt.
At the door, she tossed back, "Oh, Gemma says check your phone."
As Cora's footsteps faded, Georgia's phone pinged.
It read: [How's it feel, Georgia? Everyone's turned on you. Your man hates you. Sucks, huh?]
Staring at the text, Georgia didn't budge. Her sanity was shredding, rage swallowing her whole.
Samuel, Daphne—they were just Gemma's pawns. Her entire tragedy was Gemma's sick revenge.
She didn't know how long she lay there, shattered. Eventually, she crawled up. Her eyes, once soft and warm, were now ice-cold—like her naive heart had been ripped out, bleeding raw.
Rain drizzled as Georgia staggered to the Rathbone Group tower.
The receptionist, snotty as ever, didn't let her get a word in. "Security! Toss this trash out! Who lets riffraff in here? Call the cleaners—this place is gross now."
Georgia ignored the jabs. Pale as a ghost, she slid a folder across the desk. "Give this divorce agreement to Louis. Thanks."
Time to ditch this pathetic excuse for a marriage.
The receptionist gawked as Georgia turned away. Something about her frail, rain-soaked frame screamed rebirth—like a phoenix rising from ashes.
Outside, the drizzle turned into a downpour. Georgia dialed a number she hadn't touched in three years but knew by heart. It picked up on the first ring.
"You little brat! Thought you'd ghosted your old man forever!" Her dad's voice was warm, no trace of bitterness despite their three-year silence. "It's pouring—where you at? I'm coming for you."
Tears blended with the rain, invisible on her face. "It's a damn monsoon, Dad. How you gonna get me?"
She choked back a sob, gave her address, keeping it light.
"Trust me. I'll roll up on my magic carpet for my girl!" her dad replied.
The rain hammered down, and through the blur, she saw him—a middle-aged guy in foggy glasses, drenched in a cheap raincoat, pedaling a rickety tricycle.
He looked rough but still had that gentle spark. Spotting her, he yanked off his raincoat and threw it over her.
"You dummy, standing in the rain? Getting dumber every day," he teased, hoisting her onto the bicycle.
He adjusted his soaked glasses and grinned. "Check out my sweet ride, kid. Backseat VIP, hang on—your driver's ready to roll!"
He pedaled hard into the storm.
Georgia stared at her dad's back, aged way too fast. He didn't mention his struggles, but she knew.
Three years ago, her stubborn choice to marry Louis had cost him everything. She'd looked it up earlier, and the truth hit like a punch to the gut.
Her marriage had tanked Murray Group. Rathbone Group, Louis's family empire, cut all ties with them.
The corporate world was a shark tank—once Rathbone turned on Murray Group, others piled on. Her dad, crushed, was forced out as CEO.
Her uncle Victor Murray took over, and with Cora's fake "sisterly" act, conning Georgia for strategies, they'd turned Murray Group around. Everyone forgot her dad, the guy who built it from scratch.
Pain twisted Georgia's chest. Rain or tears? She couldn't tell. She'd been so wrong.
For three years, she'd groveled at Louis's family's feet, tossing her pride away. Meanwhile, Victor and Cora, with Gemma pulling the strings, had driven her dad into the dirt.
No more. She was done being selfish. Those who'd hurt her and her family—they'd pay. Big time.