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I Go from Betrayal to Possession Novel Cover

I Go from Betrayal to Possession

When the Delaunay family's reputation is threatened by a devastating leak, a shocking truth comes to light. Raphael Moreau, the man she trusted, secretly recorded their most intimate moments. His goal? To blackmail her family and eliminate them as rivals to the Moreau empire. Realizing her entire relationship was nothing but a calculated ploy for leverage, she refuses to be a helpless victim. Heartbroken but fueled by fury, she vows to make Raphael pay for his ultimate betrayal.
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Chapter 8

Raphael frowned and quickly checked the mirror again. His jaw tightened as he spotted the lipstick stain on his collar.

"This is normal, right?" he said, brushing at it as if that would make the evidence disappear. "I was carrying her earlier. Maybe it accidentally got on me."

Keep making excuses, Raphael. I knew better. The smell in this car, the heat of his skin, the unmistakable proof of what had happened before he came to me.

I turned my face away, staring out the window. What was the point of arguing when he would only twist the truth?

Raphael sighed heavily, then, as if trying to prove himself, he pulled out his phone and handed it to me.

"Here," he said. "Check it yourself. The only girl I chat with is you. All my other contacts are just guys."

I was shocked at first, he really made it easy for me to take revenge on him.

But I forced my expression to remain neutral. If I showed even a hint of what I was thinking, he might get suspicious.

"Okay," I said coolly, my voice void of emotion. "I'll check it. You just focus on driving, I don’t want to get into another accident."

“Don’t worry.” Then, Raphael sighed, relieved. Maybe, to him, the first problem had been solved.

Poor fool. He had no idea that he was the one who had just lost.

While he focused on driving, I took advantage of the moment. My fingers moved swiftly, deleting the videos and any trace of me on his phone.

I had spent nights making sure that no hidden cameras or CCTV had captured that moment. His phone was the only device that held the evidence.

Raphael was no tech genius—he would not have backed it up somewhere else.

He thought a single video was enough to ruin me.

Then I would show him just how much damage a single piece of evidence could do to him.

The moment we arrived at our destination and stepped into the boutique, an idea took shape in my mind.

As Raphael browsed through the selections, I sank onto a plush seat, pressing a hand to my stomach with a slight grimace.

"Raphael," I muttered, my voice laced with irritation. "I think my period just started. Can you grab me some sanitary napkins?" I sighed dramatically.

Raphael hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright. There's a convenience store nearby. Wait here and pick out a dress you like, okay?"

I offered him a small, weary smile, watching as he turned and walked away—exactly as I had planned.

The moment he stepped out, I moved fast.

I reached for the car’s dash cam first. My fingers hovered over the screen, and there it was, the footage.

The camera had faced the road ahead, but the sounds… they told the entire story.

“You better keep your promise, Colette,” Raphael murmured, his voice thick with desire.

The car was soon filled with the sounds of feverish kisses, their mouths colliding as they greedily exchanged breath and warmth.

Hands fumbled, clothes slipped away, and when the sharp sound of a zipper being undone echoed in the silence, it was quickly followed by Colette’s breathy moan.

“Raphael… gentle, please,” she pleaded.

Raphael let out a low, guttural groan. “It’s too late for that, Colette. You’re the one who made me lose control.”

Shaking, I pulled out the car footage’s SIM card and took it with me before leaving his phone abandoned on the seat and stepped out of the car, walked to the street to hail a taxi.

As I entered the taxi, I cursed Raphael in my heart. ‘I know it. Since then, the woman you truly wanted was never me, it was Colette. So, enjoy my revenge, you shameless man!’

I took out my phone and sent him a message.

[I'll head back to the banquet first. I want to surprise you with my dress choice at your heir announcement.]

Then I blocked his number.

I tossed my old, cracked phone into a trash bin as I walked through the dimly lit airport.

It had survived too many falls, too many painful memories, and that time, I was leaving it behind—just like I was leaving him.

I pulled my coat tighter around me as I reached the private plane Victor had arranged.

Paris awaited. And this time, I was not running away.

I was starting over...

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