Reborn to Wreck My Sister's Fairytale - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The months that followed brought a steady stream of videos from Jaxon—each one more repetitive than the last.
Same script, same cruel words from Madison, playing on loop.
Over the phone, Jaxon's voice dripped with sycophantic glee. "Ms. Clark, see? This is exactly what she deserves. She's been dragging her feet, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Fine, let her waste her time. Doesn't affect me. And she still thinks she can compare herself to you? She should take a long, hard look in the mirror before running her mouth..."
That was the real Jaxon.
A man who pledged loyalty to whoever lined his pockets.
He thought throwing Madison under the bus would win him points with me. By the end of the call, he even had the nerve to ask if I could help him break into live streaming.
If he'd had the spine to stand up to Madison when she first pressured him into marriage, I might've respected him enough to make it happen. Hell, I'd have turned him into a star.
But now?
He wasn't worth the effort.
There was no real feud between us, so I didn't go out of my way to ruin him. But I sure as hell wasn't lifting a finger to help, either.
Jaxon got the message. After my rejection, he didn't push.
Rumor had it he tried leveraging his connections to revive his streaming career—only to flop spectacularly. In the end, he scraped by as an extra, thanks to some pity hire.
Dominic and I set our wedding date for early March, when spring would just be brushing the edges of Avidon.
The Marshall family had become mine.
So, the procession of luxury cars rolled out from Montgomery Manor, winding through the city before arriving at Marshall Manor to collect me.
The wedding was nothing short of breathtaking.
My dress—hand-sewn by over a hundred artisans across two years—glittered under the lights like liquid starlight.
Mark walked me down the aisle, his grip steady. "Dominic," he said, placing my hand in his, "today, I'm officially entrusting Charlotte to you. You'd better treat her right."
Dominic's voice was firm. "You have my word. I'll never let her down."
The ceremony flowed smoothly—until the ring exchange.
Before the flower girl could even step forward, the police stormed in.
"Mr. Montgomery, we have reports of bribery allegations. You'll need to come with us for questioning."
Dominic wasn't officially on the force, but his hacking skills had made him an invaluable consultant on countless cases. If he'd taken bribes, the fallout would be catastrophic.
This was worse than we'd imagined.
I never thought my wedding day would end with my groom in handcuffs.
My brothers mobilized immediately. The Marshalls pulled every string they could.
Three days later, the truth surfaced: Dominic had received five pounds of gold.
He'd signed for the delivery himself. The gold was found in our kitchen.
If he admitted to it, the case would be closed.
But Dominic refused. "I had no idea. I thought it was just the toys I ordered." He even produced chat logs as proof.
Problem? The seller's records didn't match. Their version claimed Dominic knew about the "gifts."
Two days later, forensics proved the seller's logs were fabricated. Someone had framed him.
Dominic had always been straight-edged. Only one person had motive to destroy him.
Madison.
This wasn't just about petty insults. Her hatred ran deeper.
The investigation confirmed it: Madison had clawed her way out of the psychiatric ward by cozying up to powerful men. One of them—Samuel Harris—had helped her set Dominic up.
"We've pieced most of it together," Kyle said, frustration tightening his voice. "But without hard evidence, Dominic's name stays tarnished."
I had an idea. "What if we go after Samuel's wife?"
Kyle shook his head. "Won't work. She's given up on him—turned to religion. That's why he's been running wild with mistresses, including one in the psych ward. That's how Madison got close."
"Doesn't matter. We have to try."
The next day, I went to Frisland Church.
Finding Hannah Harris wasn't hard. Wealthy, devout, and disillusioned—she stood out among the pews.
"Hannah Harris—"
She didn't let me finish. A single glare, and her security escorted me out.
Her rage told me everything. She wasn't as detached as she pretended.
So I returned. Every day. Rain or shine.
On April Fool's Day, Hannah finally acknowledged me with an icy stare. "I know why you're here. Since you're persistent, I'll help you."
She hadn't just been praying—she'd been watching. Tracking her husband's every move.
Meanwhile, Madison, oblivious to the storm brewing, continued her theatrics. Shopping sprees. Flexing her connections. Tormenting Jaxon and his mistress.
I heard she nearly snatched Jaxon's illegitimate child before he begged on his knees for its return.
Then Hannah struck.
One moment, Madison was preening. The next, she was on the ground, battered and broken.
Samuel, for all his power, cowered before his wife. He didn't lift a finger as Madison's face was ruined.
Before leaving, Hannah made sure Madison understood: "If you dare target Charlotte again, she'll destroy you."
A clear message—this was my doing.
And Madison, predictable as ever, took the bait.
Three days later, she disguised herself as a mechanic at my 4S shop, tampering with my brake lines.
The moment I drove off, it would've been a repeat of my past life—a fatal crash.
But Madison's smug grin vanished when the police arrived.
Every move had been captured on cameras she didn't know existed.
The shop was mine. The "malfunctioning" surveillance? A setup.
"Charlotte, you set me up!" she screamed, eyes wild with fury.
Too late. The brake tampering—on top of her previous assault—landed her a three-year sentence.
Three years should've been survivable.
But I wasn't feeling merciful.
The inmates around her? All on my payroll. They made sure her stay was hell.
Eventually, Madison cracked. She begged to see me.
I let her sweat for days before showing up.
"Charlotte, I'll confess! I'll tell you everything! Just make them stop! I'll never come after you again, I swear—"
Behind the glass, she looked hollow. A broken doll in prison garb.
I, on the other hand, glowed—Dominic at my side.
He wasn't fully cleared yet, but enough allies had vouched for his temporary freedom.
I wanted Madison to see it. To know.
Dominic loved me. He'd never tire of me. He'd never betray me.
And Madison?
In this life or the last, she had no one to blame but herself.