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Married to His Rival: Her Perfect Revenge Plan Novel Cover

Married to His Rival: Her Perfect Revenge Plan

After her husband Canaan's betrayal with her best friend costs Ava her marriage and her unborn child, she refuses to remain a victim. To exact vengeance, she secures a marriage of convenience with Isaiah, Canaan's powerful billionaire rival. Together, they form an alliance to dismantle her enemies. However, their revenge plot grows complicated when a ruthless female rival targets Isaiah, and Ava's own manufactured affection for her new husband begins to transform into genuine passion.
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Chapter 3

AVA'S POV

When I woke up, the house was silent. My vision was blurry, my head pounding. I tried to sit up, but I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, and I gasped, falling back onto the floor.

That’s when I noticed the blood.

It was running down my legs, and for a second, I thought I might pass out again. My hands trembled as I pressed them to my stomach, panic rising in my chest.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. My hands shook as I reached for my phone. My whole body hurts and it felt like I was going to pass out again.

I pressed 9-1-1, my voice weak as I spoke into the phone after it was answered. "I… I need help. Please…"

And then everything went dark.

***

When I woke up, I found myself at the hospital. I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light in the hospital room, my head pounding like I’d been hit by a truck. Everything around me felt cold. My body was worse. My limbs were heavy, and I could still feel pain in my stomach.

A doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, her face soft but serious. Her lips moved, but her words felt like distant echoes at first, but then my mind refocused on whatever she was saying.

“You lost the baby,” she said gently. “You were six weeks along. I’m so sorry.”

Six weeks. Six weeks of carrying a life I didn’t even know was there. Six weeks of something I could’ve loved, something that might have loved me back.

My hands instinctively moved to my stomach, but it was empty now.

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. I didn’t even care about holding it together. I sobbed, the kind of crying that makes your chest hurt and your throat burn.

The doctor stood there for a moment, her expression unreadable, before quietly excusing herself, leaving me alone.

I cried until there was nothing left. My mind kept circling back to Canaan.

Would he have cared? Would he have even wanted the baby? Or would he have just rolled his eyes and told me it was inconvenient? Did he even know I had lost our child?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. I looked up to see an officer standing in the doorway, a notepad in hand. He stepped inside cautiously, like he didn’t want to startle me.

“Mrs. Hayes,” he began. “We need to ask you some questions about what happened. Can you tell us who did this to you?”

I stared at him, my lips pressed into a tight line. The words were there, but they refused to come out. What was the point? What good would it do? He could just pay them and he would be free

“Mrs. Hayes,” he tried again, “We can help you, but we need you to tell us what happened.”

I turned my head to the side, my eyes locking on the blank hospital wall. I didn’t say a word.

The officer sighed, clearly frustrated but trying to be patient. He handed me my phone, his voice softer now. “We called your husband. He said he was too busy to come. We also mentioned…” The officer hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should continue. “We'd mentioned that you lost your baby but he said he didn't care….”

I let out a bitter laugh. He knew I'd lost our baby and he still didn't care.

What a piece of shit.

The officer stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before finally nodding. “We’ll check in with you later, Mrs. Hayes.”

And then he was gone.

I stared at the phone in my hand, the screen dark. I couldn’t stay here. Not anymore.

With shaky hands, I pulled the needle out of my arm, wincing as a small drop of blood came out. Luckily my dress was black so the blood wasn't a lot.

The hallway was crowded, with a lot of injured patients. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just needed to leave. But then I saw him.

Canaan.

He was standing by a door at the end of the hallway, holding a bouquet of flowers and a thermos flask.

I watched him push the door open and step inside. I crept closer, until I could see through the small glass window on the door.

Emma was sitting up in bed, her face pale, her eyes lighting up as Canaan handed her the flowers. He leaned in close, whispering something to her that made her laugh softly.

Tears stung my eyes, as I turned away. For a moment, I just stood there in the hallway, frozen. And then I walked away.

When I got home, the house was quiet. I couldn't believe I'd thought Canaan loved me. I was so stupid.

I didn’t bother crying. I was too empty for that now. Instead, I went straight to the closet, pulling out a suitcase and throwing in whatever I could grab. Clothes, shoes, a few essentials. It didn’t matter. I just needed to leave.

Before I walked out, I pulled the white envelope from the drawer in the desk. My divorce letter. I’d written it the day I decided to go back to my family, back to the life I’d left behind for him.

I left it on the kitchen counter, the same place I used to leave him little love notes.

I didn’t look back as I walked out the door.

****

The airport was busy, people moving around hurriedly to get their tickets or board the plane.

The flight to Los Angeles felt like a blur. My mind was too tired to process anything. But when the plane landed and I stepped into the terminal, I saw them.

My family.

My mother, father, and brother were standing by the gate, their faces tense with worry. The moment they saw me, my mom’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I broke down, running to them. My mom wrapped me in her arms, holding me tight as I sobbed into her shoulder.

“Oh, Ava,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What happened to you? Did someone hit you?!”

Oh yeah, I forgot I still had bruises.

My dad and brother came close, their faces filled with anger. My brother’s hands balled into fists as he looked me over. “Was it that bastard, Canaan? Tell me, Ava. I’ll kill him.”

My dad nodded, “He’ll never hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

My mom’s voice was softer, “You’re safe now, Ava. We’ll take care of you.”

I laughed weakly, wiping at my tears. “I’ll explain everything when we get home,” I said, my voice hoarse.

They didn’t push me for answers. Instead, they guided me to the car. The drive home was a blur like the plane ride and before I knew it, I was asleep.

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