Book two of 'The Vengeance Duology'
Five years ago, the lads and I made the biggest mistake of our lives-a reckless decision that shattered everything.
We destroyed what mattered most, but my deepest regret is how much I hurt her.
Every moment of pa...
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It's been a week since I shot Alessio and his little brunette friend. I'm still amused by how that played out—though I doubt he finds it funny, limping around like that. I've been keeping my distance since then, letting the dust settle. After two years of tormenting them, it's hard to just... stop.
Today's also my one-year anniversary with Tom, and honestly, the timing feels surreal. One part of me is still caught up in old grudges, while another is pretending to be a normal girlfriend, playing my role in this little game. We're going out for dinner tonight, somewhere fancy like always.
I glance at myself in the mirror, adjusting the black strapless corset dress that hugs me in all the right places. The fluffy cropped jacket adds just the right touch of elegance, balancing the boldness of the dress. I slip on my strappy heels, feeling the way they elevate my posture—and my confidence.
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I feel really sexy. It's a look that commands attention, one that will make every head turn when I walk into that restaurant. Tom's been looking forward to this, probably expecting me to dazzle tonight. I have no doubt that I will.
"Wow, you look fit," I hear from behind me. I turn to see Jacques leaning against the doorway to my wardrobe, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips.
I smile, feeling a little flattered. "Thanks."
"So, where's he taking you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I actually don't know," I reply, adjusting the strap of my dress. "He says he's been planning it for weeks, so I'm assuming it's somewhere fancy."
Jacques chuckles softly, pushing off the doorway. "Well, let's hope it lives up to the hype. You look like you're about to walk into a gala, not just a dinner."
I give him a playful eye roll. "We'll see. You know Tom—everything's always a spectacle with him."
My phone pings, but I don't even glance at it. I already know what it is—another message I don't want to read. I've been getting a lot of those lately. The kind you want to pretend you haven't seen, even though you have.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I tense slightly as Jacques moves to answer it, my heels clicking softly on the floor as I follow behind him.
