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Burned Once, Avenged Twice
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
“I understand, Celeste.” Nathaniel’s voice cut through the stillness of the night. “If you’re choosing Lorenzo over me… then this is where I step away. Goodbye. I wish you happiness in you...
Chương (3)
第1章
“I understand, Celeste,” Nathaniel’s voice broke through the night air, soft but heavy, each word carrying a weight I couldn’t quite breathe under. “You’re choosing Lorenzo over me… well then, it’s time for me to say goodbye. I wish you a happy marriage.”
I blinked.
The roses swayed in the breeze, their fragrance cloying. Candlelight flickered against crystal glasses on the table, and a lone butterfly drifted past, wings brushing my shoulder as if nudging me awake.
Déjà vu.
My heart clenched. This place. This dinner. This exact moment—six years ago.
It was here, beneath this same night sky, that Nathaniel Sinclair, heir of the powerful Sinclair family and my childhood companion, had once proposed to me. We had grown up side by side—his laughter always a steady comfort, his hand always reaching for mine whenever I fell. And yet, I had turned him down. I chose Lorenzo instead.
Lorenzo, the man I thought would love me forever.
At first, marriage had been bliss, painted with soft kisses and sweet promises. But the illusion shattered. Slowly, painfully, Lorenzo drifted from me, pulled away by the shadow of another—Delilah. His mistress and my stepsister.
By our fifth anniversary, the truth clawed its way into the open. I confronted them both, my hands shaking, my voice breaking. But instead of denying, instead of apologizing, Lorenzo had pulled the trigger.
I remembered the searing pain. The blood. My body collapsing onto the cold marble floor.
I had died. So how? How was I here again?
My vision blurred as I looked at Nathaniel, his figure retreating, his shoulders stiff with pain. He had been there, hadn’t he? In that other life. Even when Lorenzo struck me, even when Delilah framed me, even when my world collapsed, it was Nathaniel who tried to save me. Nathaniel who used every ounce of his power and wealth to pull me back from the edge of death.
He was the one who truly loved me.
I failed him then.
But not this time.
“Wait!” My voice cracked as I shot forward, the chair screeching against stone. “Nathaniel, stop! Don’t go!”
He froze mid-step, turning slowly, confusion lacing his sharp features.
“I…” My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “I accept the marriage.”
His brows furrowed. “Accept… the marriage?” He studied me, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure, Celeste? Are you playing with me again?”
My chest constricted. The scene felt too raw, too familiar. Because in my past life, I had been cruel without meaning to. I had given him false hope, keeping him close when I should have let him go, while all the while choosing Lorenzo.
I couldn’t let Nathaniel go, not completely—not when his presence had always been my safety, my comfort. And yet, I still chose someone else, leaving him torn between hope and despair.
Even as I lay dying later, his name had clung to my lips. Because deep down, I knew the truth I had denied for so long—Nathaniel’s love had been the only one that was real.
I drew in a shuddering breath, clutching the edge of my dress. “Please,” I whispered, eyes locked on Nathaniel’s. “I’m sorry. But listen to me. I accept your proposal. But… I can’t just break off my engagement with Lorenzo. Our families… the agreement… It won’t be that easy.”
Nathaniel’s frown deepened. “Then what are you saying?”
I exhaled sharply, a spark of wild desperation lighting inside me. “Help me ruin the wedding. Come. Take me away. Make me a runaway bride.”
For the first time, he faltered. His usual composure cracked, and he stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “Celeste…”
I leaned closer, gripping his sleeve as if he were my only lifeline. “I mean it. Just give me time. Let me handle a few things. But when that day comes… come for me.”
Nathaniel’s eyes searched mine, as if weighing whether this was another cruel game of false hope. For one suspended moment, I feared he would turn away. But then, slowly, he nodded. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll be there for you.”
Something in my chest uncoiled, a fragile thread of relief. For once, I hadn’t let him go.
I decided to go back to the estate to see Lorenzo.
When I stepped inside, Lorenzo was waiting, his arms folded tightly, jaw taut with irritation. “Where have you been?” he snapped, rising to his feet. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You’re not answering your phone. What about the gown fitting?”
I froze. The gown fitting. How could I forget? In my past life, I had missed it because I was bedridden, too ill to stand due to the poisoned soup that Delilah cooked for me. Back then, I thought it was a mistake but it seemed she tried to kill me.
Right on cue, she appeared, her smile sweet and practiced. “Since you weren’t there, I handled it for you,” she said lightly, looping her arm through Lorenzo’s with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. “Don’t worry, Celeste. The gown is beautiful. I made sure it would fit you perfectly.”
In my past life, I had smiled at her then—grateful, trusting. I had thought Delilah was my stepsister. That she had only wanted the best for me.
But standing here now, the pieces slid together with cruel precision. The looks, the whispers, the quiet moments between her and Lorenzo I had brushed aside as my imagination.
I could only scoff under my breath, the sound bitter in my throat. “Of course you did,” I murmured.
Lorenzo’s brows furrowed, but Delilah only tilted her head with that sickeningly innocent grin.
And in that moment, as I looked between the man I once thought I loved and the stepsister who had betrayed me, I felt it more keenly than ever.
Yes. I was truly reborn. And this time, I wasn’t going to let them destroy me.
第2章
I spun on my heel and stormed toward my room, ignoring Lorenzo’s scowl and Delilah’s pouting, the silence from me hitting harder than any argument could. It unsettled them, and I relished that small victory.
“Wait, Celeste!” Delilah’s high-pitched voice followed me down the hall. “Why are you ignoring me? Are… are you upset with me?”
I froze outside my door, hand tightening around the knob. Slowly, I turned to face her, meeting the glistening tears in her eyes. “And what exactly do you expect me to say?”
Her lower lip quivered, and almost theatrically, the tears began to fall. “So… you are mad at me,” she whispered, voice small, almost childlike. “I didn’t mean any harm, sister. I just wanted to help.”
I clenched my jaw so tightly it ached. I hated it. Hated the performance, hated the way she made everyone else melt—the way she twisted pity to her advantage. My father, Lorenzo, even strangers had fallen for it. And maybe… maybe it had been what destroyed my life in the first place. Delilah had learned to play the victim perfectly. I… I had been too blind, too naive to see it.
Fists curling at my sides, I remembered everything I had buried. How her mother, Helena, had been the reason my father left my real mother. How my mother had faded into grief, body and spirit worn down until she couldn’t survive. And when she died, I was thrown into their house. Into their control.
Father had been kind to me at times, yes, but Helena… she had loathed me. Every day, she made sure I felt it. The bruises, the whispered threats in the night: Tell anyone, and your father dies.
I had obeyed. Swallowed every ounce of pain, fear, and rage. Silence had been my weapon.
Not anymore.
“Celeste!” Lorenzo’s voice snapped me from my thoughts. It was sharp, angry. “You’re making your stepsister cry!”
I blinked at him, disbelief twisting into bitter laughter. “Cry? That’s on me? I didn’t even do anything!”
Delilah sniffled, fluttering her lashes. “Maybe… maybe it’s because you were angry I fitted your gown earlier? You think I’m trying to steal Lorenzo, don’t you?”
The room went still, and I let out a laugh, cold and sharp. “Oh, trust me,” I said, venom dripping from every word, “if it were up to me, I’d be glad for you to take him instead of me.”
I didn’t wait for their reaction. I turned and walked away.
But Lorenzo wasn’t done. He followed me into the corridor, hand clamping down on my wrist. “Celeste! What is wrong with you? Why are you saying things like that just days before our wedding? We’re about to be married!”
I yanked my arm free and glared. “I’m tired, Lorenzo.”
“Tired?” His eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing. “This has nothing to do with Nathaniel, right? You’ve been sneaking around with him, haven’t you?”
The air turned icy.
“You think I don’t know?” His grip tightened. “He asked you to marry him, didn’t he? Did you think I’d just stand aside? You belong to me, Celeste. Only to me.”
“You’re insane,” I spat, fury flaring.
He leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath. “From now on, Nathaniel won’t even glance at you again.”
My heart skipped. “What… what are you talking about?”
Lorenzo pulled out his phone and shoved it in my face. A video played—blurry, intimate. Us. In a bed. Exposed.
Except… no. That wasn’t me. My stomach turned cold.
“You’re lying,” I hissed. “Nothing like this happened. That’s fake—edited—AI—whatever.”
His lips curved in a cruel smile. “Oh really? Then explain the scar on your breast. He knows about that too.”
My voice trembled. “You… you saw me while I was sleeping?”
He smirked, unapologetic.
“I’m warning you, Celeste,” he said low and dangerous. “If you even think about backing out of the wedding… or running to Nathaniel… this video goes public. And everyone will know.”
Tears stung my eyes, not from fear but from burning anger. “Why?” I demanded. “Why would you do this?”
“Because I love you,” he said simply. “And I can’t stand to see you with him.”
“That isn’t love,” I snapped.
“Call it what you want,” he sneered. “In this life, you belong to me. Only me. Only my wife.”
He stormed away, leaving me trembling, one hand pressed against my chest. Damn him. Damn him and his twisted threats. He thought he could trap me, control me… Nathaniel had to know the truth. He had to.
Unless…
A thought flickered. Delilah had always wanted him. Maybe… I could use that. Push her toward Lorenzo, let her persuade Father to swap the engagement. After all, it was a business arrangement. My feelings had been irrelevant. Back then. But now? I knew better.
I headed toward Father’s office when voices stopped me—coming from the library.
I crept closer.
“…why not just be with me?” Delilah’s syrupy voice dripped with temptation. “Why waste it on her?”
Lorenzo’s laugh followed, dark and amused. “Because she owns the largest share from her father. My parents want her. You? Your mother was just a mistress. They’ll never accept you.”
My breath caught.
“But after she signs everything over,” Delilah pressed, “you’ll get rid of her, right?”
“Of course,” he replied, voice mockingly cruel. “Then it’ll just be you and me. She’s a placeholder, nothing more.”
I stifled a laugh, sharp and cold. Perfect. Keep talking. Keep proving it.
I turned to leave, but a movement down the hall froze me. My stepmother, Helena, stood in the gallery, yanking my mother’s portrait from its frame and hurling it to the floor.
“No!” I rushed forward, catching the painting, my chest tightening at the sight of my mother’s gentle painted smile. “Don’t! That’s my mother!”
Her eyes narrowed. “And I am the mistress of this house. Never forget it.”
I squared my shoulders, clutching the portrait like a shield. “And I am the legal daughter.”
Her lips twisted in anger. “So, you’re defying me?”
Before I could even react, her hand struck my face.
第3章
Before I could even think, my hand moved on its own. Smack.
The sharp sound echoed through the hall. Helena’s eyes flew open, her hand flying to her cheek. “You… you dare hit me?”
“Yes,” I ground out, my voice shaking, raw with years of bottled-up fury.
Her face twisted in rage. She yanked at my hair, dragging me toward the stairs. “Ungrateful little brat! Hitting your stepmother? You need to learn a lesson!”
“Let go!” I clawed at her hands, but she didn’t relent. She shoved me into the room, slamming the door behind us. And then her palm met my face again. And again. Over and over. My skin stung, my ears rang, my head swam.
“Stop!” I screamed, tears scalding my cheeks. “Stop, or Father will find out! He’ll—”
Her face leaned close, breath sharp and poisonous. “And then what? You’ll stress him? You’ll risk his fragile health? You want his death on your hands?”
The strikes didn’t end. One. Two. Ten. A hundred. My face throbbed, my knees wobbled, but I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
A creak at the door. Lorenzo.
A flicker of relief sparked… then died as he leaned against the frame, smirk curling on his lips. “She deserves it,” he said coldly. “For being nasty to your stepsister.”
And he walked away.
Another blow landed, and this time, the weight of betrayal pressed down harder than the pain itself.
Then came the voice that finally made her stop.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Father.
The door swung open, and he stood there, red-faced, a storm of shock and fury.
“She hit me!” Helena cried immediately, clutching her face as if she were the victim. “Your daughter slapped me!”
Father turned his gaze on me, stern, disappointed. “Celeste. Is this true? I never taught you such behavior.”
I shook my head, words tumbling out in desperation. “No! She was throwing Mother’s painting to the floor. I was only protecting it—”
His expression hardened. “That painting is my choice. I don’t want reminders of the dead cluttering this house. You should have obeyed.”
My breath caught. His words weren’t his own—they were hers, poisoning him from the inside out.
“Apologize to your stepmother,” he said, voice firm.
The world tilted. Pride screamed inside me, but his eyes left no room for refusal. I clenched my jaw until it hurt, and forced out the word. “Sorry.”
Helena’s lips curled in triumph.
Once they left, I collapsed against the floor, pressing my shaking hands to my sore cheeks. Silent tears ran freely, despair pressing down like a weight ready to crush me.
Then clarity.
Not this time.
I wouldn’t waste this second chance. I wouldn’t let them destroy me again. I would survive. Rewrite everything. Only days remained before the wedding. Days I would use to seize control of my fate.
That night, I began moving my assets. Every penny legally mine, every document and account, I shifted where Helena could never touch it—no matter what schemes she tried, no matter what happened to Father.
Then I went to him.
“Father,” I whispered, stepping into his study. He looked smaller, weaker than I remembered.
“Celeste? What is it?”
I drew a deep breath. “Please… don’t drink what Helena gives you. Don’t sign anything over to her. I know you won’t believe me, but she’s been hurting me. If you care about me even a little, don’t let her destroy you.”
Confusion clouded his eyes. “Celeste—”
I didn’t wait for him to answer. I turned and left. He wouldn’t believe me—not yet. But maybe… just maybe, a seed of doubt had been planted.
By morning, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
Lorenzo.
“Where are you?” His tone was sharp, accusatory. “Why didn’t you come home? What are you trying to do?”
My chest tightened, but I forced myself into the living room. The muted television cast a cold blue glow across the walls. I grabbed the remote, turned up the volume, and froze.
There I was. My face. My name.
Celeste Arden: Two Birds, One Stone? Heiress Plays With Hearts, Old Flame Reappears.
My pulse slammed in my ears as the anchor droned on, each word twisting like a knife.
“Just days before her wedding to Lorenzo Santoro,” the woman said, voice smooth, almost gleeful, “Celeste Arden was spotted with Nathaniel Sinclair, heir to the Sinclair fortune. Rumors suggest an intimate dinner… and questions arise whether she’s playing both men. Is this the biggest scandal of the year?”
My hands shook violently, nearly dropping the remote.
“It’s not true,” I ground out.
“Then come home. Now,” came the next message from Lorenzo.
I walked in reluctantly.
As soon as I stepped through the door, a sharp slap landed on my face.
Helena’s hand. Again.
This time, Father caught her wrist midair. “Enough! Violence will solve nothing.”
She huffed but obeyed, hiding a victorious smirk behind downcast eyes.
“What is happening here?” Father demanded.
“It’s not me!” I cried. “I’ve done nothing. Someone is spreading lies. Maybe they want to ruin the wedding!”
“This is why you are unfit for the Sinclair family,” Helena said, sweetness dripping from her tone. “Delilah should be marrying him, not you.”
Father paused. Then slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded.
“Delilah marrying Lorenzo… that would solve everything,” he said, calm now. “Scandal disappears. And if Celeste admits her feelings for Nathaniel, the merger can still happen. Two birds, one stone.”
I blinked, stunned. He was serious.
Delilah shook her head, wringing her hands. “No, Father… I can’t. They love each other. I won’t ruin their happiness. I could never make Celeste hate me.”
False. All of it.
Father cut her off. “No. That’s final. Delilah will marry Lorenzo. I’ll handle his parents; they’ll agree once this scandal breaks.”
I didn’t argue. Didn’t need to. For the first time, I felt satisfaction.
Let Delilah have him. Let her rot in the hell I barely escaped.
That night, I messaged Nathaniel.
You didn’t believe him, did you?
His reply was instant. Of course not. Since your wedding is off… I’ll see you soon.
I hesitated, then typed again.
Can you do me one more favor? Help me fake my death.