She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
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Does he seriously think a few bouquets can win me back?
I didn't even glance at the note. "Toss it," I said, waving my hand like shooing away a fly.
The maid shifted uncomfortably. "But Miss... there are presents too. The hallway's practically overflowing—"
"Trash everything," I cut her off, my voice harsher than I meant. "I don't want a single thing from that man."
"Yes, Miss." She scooped up the roses and scurried out.
The deluge didn't let up. Daily deliveries of peonies and orchids, gaudy jewelry boxes I never touched—straight to the dumpster.
When Bryant found out, he exploded.
"He's playing with fire," Bryant snarled, storming back and forth across the Persian rug. I watched his knuckles whiten, his jaw twitching. "I should pay him a visit. Settle this permanently."
"Absolutely not." I straightened on the sofa, my tone leaving no room for argument.
"Amanda—"
"I won't watch you throw your life away over him." My fingers dug into the upholstery. "Gabriel's pathetic. Let him rot in his regret. He'll never touch me again."
Bryant dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling like a bull seeing red. Finally, he gave a terse nod. "Fine. But if that bastard steps one toe out of line..."
The weeks blurred together, stitching our wounds into scars. Between cake tastings and seating charts, we carved out something resembling peace—a small, backyard wedding, no press, no drama. After Nadia's ambush, we couldn't afford spectacle.
For the first time in forever, I caught myself smiling at dress swatches. Maybe we'd actually make it.
The night before "I do," I lounged in silk pajamas, swiping through venue photos. My chest fluttered imagining Bryant's face when I walked down the aisle.
Then my screen lit up with an unknown number.
Probably Bryant with last-minute jitters, I thought—until I read the text:
Call off the wedding. Or your family pays the price.
Ice flooded my veins.
My thumb hovered over 'block,' but another message popped up—this time with a video. The preview made my stomach drop:
Marry him, and I'll expose you and Gabriel. Imagine the headlines.
The clip loaded with cruel slowness. Gabriel's bedroom materialized, the sheets rumpled, the lighting sultry. Then—oh god—there we were. Skin on skin. Moans muffled by the camera's angle.
I gagged. He'd filmed us. Without my knowledge. Without my consent.
The phone clattered onto the duvet. My lungs refused to work.
Nadia. It had to be. This was her endgame—the revenge she'd promised over spilled champagne and shattered glass.
Another buzz. I couldn't look. Tears scorched my cheeks as the truth detonated: my parents' legacy, Bryant's trust, our future—all rigged to blow at dawn.
Tomorrow's sunrise was supposed to gild my wedding gown. Now it might illuminate my ruin.
I didn't even glance at the note. "Toss it," I said, waving my hand like shooing away a fly.
The maid shifted uncomfortably. "But Miss... there are presents too. The hallway's practically overflowing—"
"Trash everything," I cut her off, my voice harsher than I meant. "I don't want a single thing from that man."
"Yes, Miss." She scooped up the roses and scurried out.
The deluge didn't let up. Daily deliveries of peonies and orchids, gaudy jewelry boxes I never touched—straight to the dumpster.
When Bryant found out, he exploded.
"He's playing with fire," Bryant snarled, storming back and forth across the Persian rug. I watched his knuckles whiten, his jaw twitching. "I should pay him a visit. Settle this permanently."
"Absolutely not." I straightened on the sofa, my tone leaving no room for argument.
"Amanda—"
"I won't watch you throw your life away over him." My fingers dug into the upholstery. "Gabriel's pathetic. Let him rot in his regret. He'll never touch me again."
Bryant dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling like a bull seeing red. Finally, he gave a terse nod. "Fine. But if that bastard steps one toe out of line..."
The weeks blurred together, stitching our wounds into scars. Between cake tastings and seating charts, we carved out something resembling peace—a small, backyard wedding, no press, no drama. After Nadia's ambush, we couldn't afford spectacle.
For the first time in forever, I caught myself smiling at dress swatches. Maybe we'd actually make it.
The night before "I do," I lounged in silk pajamas, swiping through venue photos. My chest fluttered imagining Bryant's face when I walked down the aisle.
Then my screen lit up with an unknown number.
Probably Bryant with last-minute jitters, I thought—until I read the text:
Call off the wedding. Or your family pays the price.
Ice flooded my veins.
My thumb hovered over 'block,' but another message popped up—this time with a video. The preview made my stomach drop:
Marry him, and I'll expose you and Gabriel. Imagine the headlines.
The clip loaded with cruel slowness. Gabriel's bedroom materialized, the sheets rumpled, the lighting sultry. Then—oh god—there we were. Skin on skin. Moans muffled by the camera's angle.
I gagged. He'd filmed us. Without my knowledge. Without my consent.
The phone clattered onto the duvet. My lungs refused to work.
Nadia. It had to be. This was her endgame—the revenge she'd promised over spilled champagne and shattered glass.
Another buzz. I couldn't look. Tears scorched my cheeks as the truth detonated: my parents' legacy, Bryant's trust, our future—all rigged to blow at dawn.
Tomorrow's sunrise was supposed to gild my wedding gown. Now it might illuminate my ruin.
End of She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge Chapter 11. Continue reading Chapter 12 or return to She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge book page.