THE BILLIONAIRE'S REVENGE: RUTHLESS REDEMPTION

ARI'S POINT OF VIEW

The cab ride was a blur. Streetlights smeared against the windows like they were mocking me, like even the city knew I was unwanted. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and when the driver finally pulled up in front of Wendy’s house, I barely had the strength to hand him the fare.

The second the door opened and Wendy’s familiar face appeared, everything inside me shattered.

“Wendy…” My voice broke, and then so did I. Tears came rushing down before I could stop them, pouring out in heavy sobs that shook my chest.

She didn’t hesitate. She pulled me into her arms, her warmth swallowing the cold I’d carried from that house.

“Hey, hey… Ari, breathe. What happened?” she asked softly, brushing my hair back from my damp cheeks.

But I couldn’t stop. Words tumbled out between gasps, broken pieces of my story spilling too fast for either of us to hold onto.

“Derek—papers—anniversary—he brought her—Tasha—kids—they—Wendy, they chose her!”

I was rushing, spitting the sentences out like if I stopped, I’d collapse entirely.

“Okay, okay,” Wendy whispered firmly, her hands gripping my shoulders to steady me. “Breathe. Just… slow down. Chill, Ari. I’m right here. Tell me everything, but slowly. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

And just like that, the sobs came harder. Because for the first time that night, someone actually meant it.

“Wendy…” I hiccupped through the sobs, my chest burning. “Today was supposed to be our anniversary.”

Her arms tightened around me, steadying me.

“Our anniversary, Wendy. Me and Derek’s.” My lips trembled as I tried to get the words out. “But instead—he walked in… with her. With her. And then—” I swallowed hard, bile stinging my throat. “He threw the divorce papers in my face.”

Wendy’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything, the rest spilled out of me, bitter and sharp. “Do you know the worst part?”

“What?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask.

“They sided with him, Wendy.” My voice cracked, raw. “My kids. My own children… they chose him. Chose her. They didn’t even want me.”

For a moment, the room felt so heavy I thought it would crush me.

Wendy cupped my face in her hands, her expression fierce but soft all at once. “Okay, dear… okay. Lay down. Rest your head while I get you some tea, hmm?” Her voice was calm, soothing, even as her jaw tightened with anger.

She gently eased me onto the couch, adjusting a pillow under my head like I was a child again. “Derek was an asshole anyway,” she muttered under her breath as she tucked a blanket around me. “Always hitting you, cheating, making you feel like you weren’t enough. Ari, you never deserved that. Never.”

But her words barely touched me. All I could do was cry. My tears soaked the pillow as my chest ached, and the only thing that rang in my ears was my daughter’s voice saying sign it already, Mum.

And I broke all over again.

I don’t even know how long I laid there, staring blankly at nothing, my tears long dried on my cheeks. My chest still hurt, my body heavy, like I’d been carved out and left hollow.

That’s when Wendy’s voice cut through the silence. Sharp. Decisive. “That’s it. Get up.”

I blinked at her from the couch, my throat hoarse. “No…” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes.” She folded her arms, glaring down at me. “Get. Up.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You’re going to.” She marched into her bedroom, and before I could even protest again, something soft landed on my chest with a thump.

I glanced down—tiny black fabric. A short, skin-tight dress.

“Wear that,” Wendy ordered, hands on her hips.

I pushed it away weakly. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere.”

Her eyes narrowed, like she dared me to try her patience. “You’re going.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I sat up, clutching the blanket tighter around me, glaring right back. “I said I’m not.”

She smirked, the kind of smirk that told me I’d already lost. “Oh, sweetheart… you are.”

After what felt like hours of bickering, threatening, and Wendy’s stubbornness, I found myself standing under a glowing neon sign that screamed Get Dirty’s.

A club. Of course.

The bass thumped so loud it rattled my chest, the air thick with sweat, perfume, and smoke. My stomach twisted. “I wanna go back to your house,” I muttered, already half-turning.

Wendy hooked her arm through mine before I could take another step. “Oh, no, sweetheart. You’re staying. You’re going to have fun, clear your head, and remember that Derek Whitmore isn’t the last man on this damn planet.”

“I don’t want fun.”

“Which is exactly why I dragged you here.” She smirked, tugging me deeper inside until we were swallowed by flashing lights and pulsing music.

Before I could resist, she waved down the bartender like she owned the place. “Two scotches. Neat. Keep ‘em coming.”

Minutes later, small shot glasses lined the counter, and Wendy shoved one into my hand.

I stared at the amber liquid. Maybe I should say no. Maybe I should—

But then I thought of Derek. Of Tasha in her black skimpy dress. Of my kids, my kids, choosing her over me.

I tilted the glass back, letting the burn scorch my throat.

One became two. Two became three. And with every swallow, the sharp ache inside dulled a little more.

Until I felt it. That pull.

My head turned, and across the crowded room—through flashing lights and moving bodies—my eyes locked with his.

The most striking, magnetic eyes I’d ever seen.

He wasn’t just looking at me. He was watching me.

And in that moment, I couldn’t look away.