Revenge on my Billionaire Ex

If there was one thing I was grateful to my husband of six years, for, it was that he had reached into the gutter and pulled me out when no one else would.

 Before I became Mrs. Phoenix, I had been nothing more than a disgrace, a piece of trash everyone laughed at because of my poor background. Every cruel word and every mocking glance thrown my way had convinced me that I would never amount to anything.

 Then Crimson Phoenix entered my life. The city's most eligible billionaire had offered me a marriage contract. I would become his wife and bear his heir, and in return, he would give me the financial stability and respect I had never known.

 It wasn't a love story. But to a woman who had spent her entire life begging for a place to belong, Crimson had become my salvation. He gave me a home. He gave me a name people respected. He gave me a life I had never dared dream of.

 For that alone, I had been willing to give him everything. Unfortunately, some things could never be earned through devotion alone. Now, six years later, it seemed our story was finally coming to an end.

 I lowered my gaze to the small white stick trembling between my fingers. One line. Negative again. I let out a slow, shaky breath before dropping it into the trash can beneath the bathroom sink.

 It was the fourteenth pregnancy test I had taken that month. The result had never changed, even though my period hadn't come that month or the one before. It was only reasonable that I go to the hospital to confirm it, but I had stopped hoping.

 "A false alarm, Mrs. Phoenix. We're sorry."

 "The test results came back negative again. We've tried countless treatments, but they don't seem to be working."

 There was little reason to keep hearing the same words from different doctors or seeing the same sympathetic expressions from nurses after announcing my test results. Each time I’ve already figured out what they were going to say before they utter a word. Each time, the disappointment becomes a hard pill to swallow, not just for me but for my husband as well. Each failed attempt stole another piece of the hope we had started our marriage with.

 It hurt less to cry alone in the privacy of my bathroom than beneath the pitying eyes of strangers in white coats.

 I unlocked the bathroom door while holding back my tears. The moment I stepped into the bedroom, I found Celestine, my best friend since high school, waiting at the foot of the bed, biting her lip nervously. The hopeful smile on her face was cautious, as though she was afraid to ask a question that might offend me.

 "Well?" Celestine asked softly. Her eyes drifted to my empty hands before returning to my face. "Is it positive?"

 For a brief second, I tried to answer. I parted my lips, but no words came. Instead, my chin trembled. The tears I had fought so hard to keep inside spilled over, one after another, until they blurred my vision completely.

 Celestine's hopeful smile slowly faded. "Oh, Lizy..." Before another sob could escape, she crossed the room and pulled me into a tight embrace.

 I clutched the back of my friend's blouse as if it were the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

 "I don't understand," I choked out between sobs. "My period is already months late. I thought... I really thought I was pregnant."

 My best friend gently stroked my hair, saying nothing at first. Sometimes, there were no words that could soften this kind of pain.

 "You've done everything the doctors asked," she murmured. "You've taken every medication, gone through every treatment, every test... You have nothing to blame yourself for."

 "It's not fair," I whispered through my tears. "Why does it keep happening to me?"

 My best friend said nothing at first. She pulled me closer, letting me cry against her shoulder without rushing me to stop.

 "Life has been cruel to you for as long as I've known you. But please don't let this convince you that you've failed."

 "How can I not?" I laughed bitterly through my tears. “Years of trying, and all I have to show for it is a negative pregnancy test."

 "You have Crimson."

 "I don't know for how much longer.” I forced a smile that never reached my eyes. "I see it every time another test comes back negative. Every time I apologize, he tells me it's okay... but I can feel his disappointment."

 Celestine sighed. She gently released me, walked to the minibar tucked into one corner of our hotel room, and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

 "Just for tonight. Forget everything."

 "I shouldn't..." I replied hesitantly. I wasn't used to drinking.

 "You deserve one night where you don't have to think."

 Despite my protests, she grabbed two glasses. A few minutes later, we sat cross-legged on the carpet, each holding a glass of wine.

 "To better days," Celestine said with an encouraging smile.

 I managed a weak smile of my own. "To better days."

 The first glass disappeared quickly. Then came the second. By the third, my cheeks had turned pink, and the tight knot in my chest had begun to loosen.

 I found myself talking more than I had in months about the miscarriages and the crushing fear that one day my husband would stop looking at me as his wife and start seeing me only as a woman who couldn't give him the family he wanted.

 Celestine listened, occasionally topping off my glass. Halfway through another pour, I frowned. "My head..." I pressed my fingers against my temple. "I suddenly feel... really dizzy."

 "You've barely had anything."

 "I think... I think I should stop."

 Celestine gave a soft laugh and nudged the glass toward me. "You're just not used to drinking. Finish this one. It'll help you relax."

 I stared at the wine. Something didn't feel right. The edges of my vision blurred for a moment. "I don't know..."

 "Oh, come on." Celestine smiled reassuringly. "One last glass. Then you can sleep the whole evening away in our hotel room."

 Trusting the woman who had been my closest friend for years, I slowly lifted the glass. I emptied it in a few small sips. Minutes later, the dizziness intensified. The bedroom spun. My eyelids grew impossibly heavy.

 "C-Celestine..."

 My voice sounded distant, even to myself.

 "I..."

 The glass slipped from my fingers, rolling across the carpet. The last thing I saw was my best friend catching me before I hit the floor.

 Then everything went black.

A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes, making it difficult to think as I slowly opened them. Sunlight streamed through curtains I didn’t recognize, making me squint.

 I lay there for a while, searching my foggy mind for any clue about where I was or how I had gotten there. But the harder I tried to remember, the more everything seemed to slip away.

 Then I pushed myself upright, making the blanket slip from my shoulder. That was when I noticed something was wrong. I wasn't wearing the clothes I'd had on before I passed out.

 A strange sense of unease settled over me when slowly, I turned my head to the side.

 A man I had never seen before was sleeping beside me.

 Cold dread crawled down my spine. I jumped out of the bed, frightened that he might wake up.

 Terrifying thoughts raced through my mind as I hurried to get dressed, my hands trembling so badly that I struggled with every button. I wanted nothing