The Playboy's Wicked Revenge (Major editing In Progress)

1: What the hell has happened

Sia's Pov 

It felt unreal – like I was walking through a dream that wasn't mine. Each step down that empty road felt weightless, like the pain I'd carried for so long had finally loosened its grip. I was free. And freedom... it didn't roar. It whispered. Softly. Like something I was scared to believe in.

There isn't a single word that could explain it – no sentence big enough to hold everything I was feeling. The world around me, once dull and silent, suddenly had texture. Even the cracks in the pavement looked beautiful. The streetlights buzzed above me like an old lullaby, and the cool breeze kissed my skin as if it was trying to say, "You're okay now."

For the first time in ages, I wasn't anyone's daughter. I wasn't anyone's friend. I wasn't anyone's disappointment. I was just... me.

I wanted to be nobody, just for tonight. I wanted silence inside my mind.

I walked for what felt like hours. My thoughts were so loud, I didn't notice how far I'd come, or how the sun had long slipped away. The night had crept in slowly – like loneliness dressed in shadows.
And that's when it hit me.
I had nothing.
Not a single coin in my pocket. Not even a way to call for help.

I looked around – just darkness and silence.
Only me. And my shadow.
Which, in that dim light, began to disappear too.

I kept walking. I don't know why. Maybe I was chasing something I couldn't name. Maybe I was just running from everything I could.

I turned a corner and saw a house, tucked quietly between the trees, glowing like it didn't belong to this world. Small, but beautiful in a way that didn't need effort.

The house looked like it had been pulled from a magazine. Fairy lights hung in soft loops across the porch, music played faintly in the background, and the scent of food wafted through the air.

Drawn to it like a moth to light, I walked closer. Maybe someone inside could help.

But before I could knock, I froze.

Someone was watching me.

I turned my head slowly. My heart skipped.

A pair of piercing emerald eyes stared back at me – steady, cold, unreadable. There was something about them that held me in place, like they could see every piece of me I wanted to hide.
And God – those eyes belonged to the most painfully attractive man I'd ever seen.

He didn't need to speak to command attention. His posture, his presence – it screamed control, confidence, maybe even danger. I stood frozen, caught in the storm of his gaze, completely forgetting why I had come here in the first place.

Just being there made me feel smaller than I already did.

I stood there, locked in place. Admiring him? Maybe. But mostly – trying not to break

Then came the sound.
A low, deliberate throat-clear.
Snapping me back to reality like a slap to the face.

Suddenly, I became painfully aware of myself. My baggy sweatpants. My faded Mickey Mouse t-shirt. Hair messy from walking aimlessly for hours. I looked like a lost stray at the door of a palace.

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable, and spoke.

"Done checking me out?"
His voice was deep, sharp and soaked in mockery.
"Now tell me – who the fuck are you?"

I opened my mouth. My throat burned. My voice betrayed me.

"I... I got lost... I need... help..."

He scoffed – loud enough to slice through me. His expression didn't soften. Not even a little.

"You know what? Forget it. You look like a fucking beggar."

It stung.

Not because it wasn't true... but because, in that moment, it felt true.

Without giving me a second look, he pulled a crisp $100 note from his wallet and shoved it into my hand like he was tossing away trash.

"Now fuck off."

I stood there, speechless, staring at the money in my hand. I managed to whisper, "Listen–"

But he was already walking away, muttering under his breath.

"Cheap beggar."

My heart clenched. My cheeks burned.

I looked down at the money. My fingers tightened around it. I stood there in the glow of the fairy lights, holding the crumpled note, too stunned to speak. My cheeks burned with a mix of humiliation, anger, confusion – and something else I couldn't name.

But one thing was clear: I would never forget those eyes. Or that voice. Or how small I had felt in that moment.

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Hey Lovelies,

Long time!!

I've decided to edit The Playboy's wicked revenge from scratch as there is a lot of mistakes and room for improvement. The main reason I couldn't continue with the Part 2 of the book was that I don't resonate with what happened in the end with Sia and Xander. So I'm going to edit this book from scratch and you all are more than welcome to join me in this journey.

Do read and let me know, how is it 

Also, if you guys are on insta, you can follow me there as well. My id is marbilxo.

Xo, Marbil