Chapter 4
The next morning, I woke up under house arrest.
Charles had taken my phone, wallet, and car keys. Two stone-faced bodyguards in black suits now stood watch at the villa entrance.
Before leaving, he loomed over my bedside, his voice cold as ice.
"Evelyn, you're staying put until I sort this out. Don't even think about trying anything."
He spoke like he was scolding a disobedient dog.
I pulled the covers over my head, not bothering to look at him.
Did he really think he could lock me up like this? That I was still the Evelyn who'd let him walk all over her?
He was dead wrong.
At ten in the morning, the doorbell rang.
One of the bodyguards called up from downstairs. "Mr. Rivers, Ms. Linwood is here."
I jolted, threw off the covers, and sat up.
She was here.
Mrs. Rivers, whom I'd only ever heard of but never once saw.
I didn't hide in my room. Instead, I walked out and stood at the top of the stairs, glaring down at her coldly.
Claire wore a custom-tailored suit, flawless makeup, and three-inch heels—looking every bit like royalty surveying her kingdom.
She stepped into the villa I'd called home for three years, completely at ease, as if she were the real lady of the house.
Her eyes swept across the living room before landing on the cartoon mural I'd painted on the wall.
She chuckled—disdainful, dripping with contempt.
Walking straight up to it, she didn't even touch it herself. Just motioned to the bodyguard behind her.
"Take it down."
The bodyguard immediately stepped forward and removed the mural.
Claire didn't spare it a glance. She just pointed at the nearby trash can.
"Throw it out. Charles hates cheap, childish junk in his home."
I'd spent a whole week on that mural, pouring all my sweetest dreams and hopes into it.
Now it sat in the trash like worthless garbage.
My heart crashed right along with it.
When she finished, Claire lifted her head, her eyes locking onto me.
She strode toward me, heels clicking against the wooden steps—each one landing like a punch to my chest.
She stopped right in front of me, standing half a head taller, her gaze sweeping over me like she was appraising livestock.
"You must be Evelyn?"
Her voice was gentle, but every word cut deep.
She eyed my silk pajamas and let out a quiet, condescending laugh.
"Charles' taste really is unpredictable sometimes."
She turned and walked into the kitchen. The moment she spotted my breakfast—a sandwich and a glass of milk—her perfectly shaped brows furrowed.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the plate, strode to the sink, and dumped everything down the drain.
"Charles has stomach issues. He can't eat greasy food like this."
She wiped her hands with a paper towel like she'd touched something filthy.
"He only drinks the exclusive goat milk I have flown in from abroad. Make sure he never sees this junk again."
She spoke like the undisputed queen of the house, dictating my habits as if she owned the place.
Humiliation crashed over me like a tidal wave. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms.
She sauntered back to me, her manicured hand—nails painted with some ridiculously expensive polish—reaching out. One nail traced lightly down my cheek.
The touch was cold, sticky with malice.
"You've got that pure look."
She leaned in, her voice low and venomous.
"Charles likes girls like you—naive, docile, no baggage. Fun for a little fling, but don't you dare take it seriously. Understand?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped her hand away, glaring at her coldly.
"Who are you to tell me that?"
She laughed like I'd just told the world's funniest joke, her whole body shaking.
She pulled out her phone and waved it in my face.
The lock screen showed a photo of her and Charles, looking sickeningly in love.
They stood in a lavender field. Charles held her from behind, chin resting on her head, wearing a gentle smile I'd never seen before.
Claire was nestled in his arms, looking blissfully happy.
The perfect couple.
"Who am I?"
She put her phone away, her smile turning cold and proud.
"I'm the sole heir to Linwood Group, and our engagement party will be the biggest event in the city. It'll send Rivers Group's stock soaring by ten percent overnight."
She stepped closer, her eyes brimming with contempt.
"And you? What do you have? That face? Those cheap little tricks?"
Just then, the front door swung open.
Charles strode in, worry etched across his face.
But the moment he saw Claire, all that anxiety melted away, replaced by gentleness and concern.
"Claire, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting at home?"
He walked over and wrapped her in his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, acting like I didn't exist.
Claire instantly switched to damsel-in-distress mode, pointing at me.
"Charles, I just wanted to see the woman who's kept you so occupied."
Charles turned to me, his eyes going cold and commanding.
"Who allowed you to leave your room? Get back upstairs. Now."
His voice was quiet but left no room for argument.
Holding his beloved before me, he branded me with cruel words as nothing but an unwanted intruder.
I watched them, Charles leaning in close, murmuring something gentle in Claire's ear.
At that moment, all my anger, resentment, and pain just faded into nothing.
My heart was completely dead.
I clutched the marriage license in my pocket so tightly that my nails dug deep into my palm. Blood oozed out, sticky and metallic.
Good. Pain kept me awake.
I wasn't going back. Not now, not ever. And I was done taking orders from him.
That humiliation was what finally broke me. It fueled my resolve and set me on a dark path of revenge.
Charles, Claire, everything you did to me together today, I'd repay you double.