The Sweetest Revenge

Someone once said you'll find your true love between the ages of twenty-seven and thirty-five.

Is that really true?

Alexa Greisy wasn't sure. In fact, she thought it was complete bullshit. At twenty-six, she hadn't even thought about love in the past five years.

Not once. Not during the chaos of her life.

Her downward spiral began when she found out her boyfriend was cheating. That betrayal drove her to drown her rage in alcohol, which led to a non-consensual one-night stand with a stranger. But the nightmare didn't stop there. When she found out she was pregnant, her parents kicked her out, unwilling to bear the shame. She dropped out of university, lived alone, worked nonstop to survive, and tried to support the life growing inside her.

When the weight of it all became too much, she attempted to end her life by jumping off a bridge.

But she didn't go through with it, not entirely.

She was saved. Her best friend pulled her back before she could fall. A miracle, perhaps, or just dumb luck.

Next year, she'd be twenty-seven. If she really did find her "true love" then, maybe she'd finally forget how close she came to losing everything.

Alexa smirked at the thought, her eyes drifting back to the bustling courtyard of the grand mansion behind her. The party she had designed was in full swing, a dazzling wedding celebration for her best friend, Jane Ryleigh.

Funny. Jane, once a shameless playgirl who jumped from one rich man to another, now swore she had found true love with a billionaire, no less.

So ... does true love actually exist?

"Lexa!"

A familiar voice called out. Alexa turned to see the radiant bride striding toward her in all her glittering glory.

"What an amazing party, Lexa. You totally rock!" Jane squealed, throwing her arms around her. Then she twirled, showing off her dress. "Look at me! Am I stunning or what? This is my dream wedding!"

Her silver gown shimmered with sequins, its tassels sweeping the floor, and a front slit revealed toned thighs and dazzling heels. Jane looked like a fairytale princess, sparkling from head to toe.

Alexa's gaze softened. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart."

Jane blushed, then a man approached, wrapping an arm around her waist. The love in his green eyes was impossible to miss.

Alexa felt a twinge of envy.

Jane beamed. "You've only seen her in photos. This is the real deal, my best friend, Alexa Greisy."

The man reached out with a smile. "Hi, Mrs. Greisy. I'm Kenric Hamilton. Nice to meet you."

Jane had said her fiancé rarely smiled, but when he did, he was stunning. Alexa silently agreed.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Hamilton," she replied, returning his handshake with a stiff smile. Her palms were sweaty. So this was one of the rich men, though his hands weren't soft or manicured as she'd expected. His skin was warm, veined, and calloused.

"Is she the one you wanted to introduce to my cousin?" Kenric asked.

Alexa frowned. "Jane? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jane's expression was like a thief caught red-handed. "His cousin's a lawyer, he's looking for a girlfriend."

"Not anymore, Jane."

"No, no! I meant well! Listen to me, Preston is a good guy. A real gentleman, not like the jerks I introduced you to before. He's different."

"Preston?"

"Yeah. Preston Carnell."

Alexa sighed. "I get it, but not now. This is your wedding. Why are we talking about this?"

Kenric quickly interjected, sensing the shift. "Oops, I'm sorry, Mrs. Greisy. I didn't mean to bring it up."

Alexa grimaced. "No, it's fine, Mr. Hamilton. I just ... don't like discussing these things."

Kenric smiled. "Call me Kenric. 'Mr. Hamilton' sounds like my father. He passed away two years ago."

"Alright, Kenric. You can call me Alexa."

He nodded politely, pulling Jane closer. "Should I leave you two alone?"

"I'll catch up with you later," Jane said.

"Take your time," Kenric replied gently, kissing Jane's cheek before walking away. He looked no older than Jane, but she had told Alexa he was forty. A widower with no children, his first marriage had ended because of relentless pressure from his in-laws to have kids. He couldn't take it anymore, so he divorced.

Jane watched him walk away, admiration in her eyes.

"Well? Isn't he even more handsome in person? And rich too, who wouldn't want to marry him?"

Alexa rolled her eyes. "So you married him because he's handsome and rich? Not because he's your 'true love'?"

"Oh, come on! Are you still mad at me? I told you, he is my true love. The money and looks are just perks."

Before Alexa could respond, Jane dragged her to the buffet and grabbed a plate of desserts.

"Ugh, I'm done with dieting. Let me eat in peace."

"Manners, Jane!" Alexa scolded. "You're the billionaire's bride now."

"So what?"

Alexa snatched the plate from her hands. "Oh no, not my cake!" Jane cried.

"You'll gain weight again. You'll look like a pig," Alexa paused, wincing. "I mean, you're the queen of the night. Everyone's watching. You don't want to embarrass yourself-or Kenric."

"He doesn't care about people's opinions. Especially about my weight."

Jane pouted at the stolen cake, her stomach aching in the tight dress. Alexa was ruthless.

"Don't you usually care about your public image?" Alexa asked.

"Kenric doesn't, so why should I?"

"Okay," Alexa sighed.

She gave up. Jane happily reclaimed her cake.

"By the way, where's Fillo?" Jane asked between bites. "You didn't bring him?"

"Too crowded. He'd cry."

"Really? Most kids love parties."

"Not him," Alexa replied, sipping wine. "I'd rather raise a quiet boy than a future jerk."

"Lexa, he's just a kid."

Fillo Greisy was Alexa's son. He was four years old now. A miracle born from pain. She'd been mentally broken, abandoned, shamed, left to raise a child alone. He was born prematurely because of her stress.

But thanks to Jane, Alexa had rebuilt her life. She now ran a small, promising wedding planning business. The entire event tonight had been her work.

If someone said a child could bring luck to their parents, Alexa would wholeheartedly agree.

Jane suddenly commented, "Fillo really looks like Ray. Like a twin. But he won't be Ray."

"Don't say that bastard's name."

Jane ignored the warning. "Kenric actually knows him."

"Jane--"

"They're not close, don't worry," she continued. "But Kenric has his number. Do you want it?"

"No," Alexa said coldly. Her brown eyes darkened.

She had thrown away Ray's business card long ago. It was the last remnant of his presence. She didn't need it.

Jane finally let it go, moving off to greet other guests.

Alone now, Alexa felt a little hungry. She wandered to the buffet, picking a piece of red velvet cake. If Fillo were here, he'd devour it with a smile. She smiled at the thought.

Even if she hated his father, she adored her son.

Maybe Jane was right. She should have brought Fillo.

This place was breathtaking like a royal palace with gold covered furniture and high ceilings. Jane was so lucky.

Most people needed an entire venue for a wedding. Jane said buildings were too confining. The hall in Kenric's mansion was the size of a football field. Alexa's team had spent two days and nights just decorating it.

She swallowed her envy.

Back in school, she once dreamed of getting married at twenty-five. But that dream was long gone. After all that had happened, who would want to marry a single mother?

Alexa wasn't even a widow.

She had chosen to put her own dreams aside-for Fillo.

As she walked through the grand halls, she looked up at the crystal chandelier glittering above, mocking her with its extravagance.

What a cruel world.

"Excuse me, could you move aside? You're blocking the way."

A low, magnetic voice came from behind her. She stepped aside, startled. Her eyes traveled up from polished shoes to a boutonniere that matched Kenric's. A VIP.

And then she saw his face.

Her heart stopped.

She staggered, bumping into someone. She nearly fell, but a strong hand caught her by the waist and pulled her upright.

"Are you alright?"

Alexa instinctively pulled away. No answer.

"Miss?"

Still nothing. She was dazed, her heart clenching, old wounds ripping open.

Ray Sanders.

That face. That man.

How could she ever forget?

He was the bastard who got her pregnant five years ago.

... to be continued ...