My Actress Girlfriend Helped My Rival Destroy Me

I gritted my teeth through the pain, shaking off Steven’s hand as anger flared up inside me.

“Steven, does humiliating me in front of Steve make you feel proud?” I snapped. “You deliberately pressed on my injured left hand—what’s wrong? Are you that scared I’ll outshine you?”

This time, I didn’t care about Margot’s reaction. I had reached my breaking point. For once, I stood my ground and let all the pent-up frustration spill out.

Steven’s expression darkened instantly. His eyes darted to Margot as he put on his usual pitiful act. “Margot, I was just trying to help Frank, but he doesn’t appreciate it. Now he’s accusing me…”

Margot’s cold, indifferent gaze turned to me, her voice laced with disdain.

“Frank, stop making excuses,” she said icily. “You need to play with your left hand—no more theatrics. Steven is helping you out of kindness, and you should be grateful instead of acting like you’re too good for this. Because, honestly? You’re not anymore.”

Her words cut through me like a blade, extinguishing the last shred of affection I had for her. My chest tightened, and my eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Margot,” I said, my voice trembling but steady enough to convey my bitterness, “have you ever genuinely cared about me? Or was I just here today to make Steven look better?”

I could feel the weight of every suppressed emotion rising to the surface. My voice grew louder, steadier. “I’m done. I can’t keep watching the two of you flaunt your ‘love’ in front of me.”

With that, I yanked off the tie she had tied for me earlier and threw it at her feet.

Before anyone could react, I strode up to the stage. My heart pounded as I plugged in a USB drive and hit play. A video montage began to play on the screen, flashing memories of the two years Margot and I had spent together.

“Margot,” I announced, my voice echoing across the room, “even if you want to erase me from your life, you can’t erase the fact that we were together for two years.

“Consider this my final goodbye—I’m officially breaking up with you. From now on, we’re done. You and Steven stay out of my sight. You both make me sick.”

The crowd froze, murmurs spreading like wildfire.

Someone finally dared to ask, “Miss Kent, is it true? Did you date him for two years?”

Margot’s face drained of color. She stormed up to me, her expression twisted with rage and slapped me hard across the face.

“You picked the wrong place to pull this stunt,” she sneered, her tone full of venom.

To her, my actions were nothing more than a childish outburst of jealousy—a pathetic attempt to cling to something that no longer existed. Her slap wasn’t just physical. It was full of contempt, a reminder of how little she thought of me.

I lowered my head, swallowing my pride, as she continued her verbal assault.

“Frank, are you done embarrassing yourself yet?” she spat. “You’re pathetic!”

I felt the fight drain out of me entirely. It wasn’t just her words—it was the years of pain, humiliation, and betrayal finally catching up to me. I was exhausted. This twisted relationship had decayed beyond repair.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to leave.

But, of course, Margot wasn’t done.

“Frank,” she called after me, her voice sharp and biting. “You better think this through. Without me, you have nothing. No one will dare to help you.”

I turned back to face her, and for the first time, I saw my reflection in her eyes—a haggard, broken shell of a man who had endured far more than he should have.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. The world spun around me, and it felt like I was plunging into an endless abyss, the same kind of soul-crushing pain I had felt when my parents died.

But back then, Margot had pulled me out of that darkness.

Now, she was the one shoving me back in.

I clenched my teeth, steadying myself with my injured left hand. A wave of searing pain shot through me as blood dripped onto the floor, vivid and jarring against the polished surface.

“Hey, Steven, the baker said this cake is pineapple, not mango,” someone remarked casually nearby.

My stomach twisted. Earlier, when I tasted the cake, the strong scent of mango had been unmistakable. And Margot had been standing right in front of me, watching me eat it.

Yet, she had believed Steven’s lie and, worse, punished me for calling it out.

Grinding the sharp heel of her stiletto into my injured fingers, she hissed, “Frank, what’s the point of lying? Stop slandering Steven. How does this help you? Apologize to us right now!”

Her voice was sharp, cutting through me like needles. My head buzzed, and the allergic reaction worsened by the second. The room blurred into indistinct shadows, and the chaotic noise around me faded into an eerie hum.

I yanked my hand free from under her heel, desperate to get away. I didn’t care if I had to crawl.

I just needed to escape this nightmare.

But Margot wasn’t finished with me. She barked orders at her bodyguards, who quickly blocked my path and dragged me back to her.