Trapped in a Marriage Fueled by Revenge

Courtney's POV

"Sorry, Courtney, turns out this chocolate drink is actually mine."

Tamara walked over, holding the drink I had just lost. Her smug smile stretched across her face.

"But if you really want it, I can ask Clive to let you have a sip. You don’t mind, do you, Clive?"

The heavy scent of her perfume was suffocating, making my chest tighten.

I pressed a hand against my chest and tried to get out, but she stepped in my way.

I moved to walk around her, but she suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward her. The next second, her face twisted in shock, and she let out a dramatic gasp before falling backward.

"Courtney! How could you push her?" Clive roared, but I ignored the chaos behind me and hurried out, covering my mouth.

By the time I finished throwing up and slumped weakly against the toilet, my phone buzzed with an angry message from Trina.

[Trina: Tamara's really unbelievable. Her hand is just a little red, but she’s clinging to the boss and urging him take her to the hospital.]

Then, as if realizing I might be upset, she unsent the message.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

I had already promised myself—I wouldn’t get angry over him again.

I just needed to live out the rest of my days in peace.

Two months ago, when Clive disappeared from my life, I started getting frequent nosebleeds. Then a hospital visit confirmed the worst. The doctor told me I might not make it through the winter.

For a moment, I froze. Then I accepted it later.

I only felt one regret though—if only I could hold on until spring, I’d get to see the flowers bloom.

"Miss Russell, have you informed your family?" the doctor asked me, pulling me back to reality.

"I only have a cat, Doc. No family. Can I… just not go through the treatment?"

The doctor paused and looked at me with quiet sympathy. Then, he soon offered, "There’s a new imported drug. It’s better at managing the pain, but the side effects might cause weight gain and skin changes. It won’t be very… flattering. Do you want it?"

I shook my head lightly. "No, thanks."

I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of becoming ugly. Afraid that one day, if Clive ever thought of me, the image in his mind would be a bloated, unattractive woman.

Not that it mattered. He didn’t even need to see my face anymore. There were plenty of women who looked just like me—ones with my nose, my eyes, even my silhouette. He would always have a younger version of "me" by his side.

I forced a small laugh, trying to comfort myself. But my cheeks felt warm.

Ugh. Even my tear glands were failing me now.

Suddenly, a message popped up on my phone.

[Miss Russell, we have received your deposit for the burial plot. Please complete the remaining balance within seven days.]

[Got it.]

After replying, I checked my account, only to see it was not enough. I’d have to ask Clive for money again.

He hated me for being a gold-digger. Hated me for deceiving him.

But he had never once hesitated to give me money whenever I asked. Except this time—because of Tamara.

That night, I took the sleeping pills the doctor prescribed, finally drifting into much-needed rest. Then my phone rang.

"Courtney, get to Royal Court, Room 1088. Now."

I glanced at the time and it was just 1:00 AM.

"Are you insane? Do you even know what time it is?"

"Courtney, please come! Clive is drunk—he’s crying and calling your name!"

"...Clive, you're bleeding!"

The call ended in a burst of chaos. When I tried calling back, it wouldn’t go through.

Panic clawed at my chest. I threw on my coat, rushed downstairs, and begged the driver to run several red lights.

By the time I arrived, I was breathless, my heart pounding. I shoved open the private lounge door and there he was—completely unharmed.

Clive smirked and raised his glass in a silent toast before downing it in one go.

Cheers then erupted behind him, drowning out the sound of my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Clive, she really came! Hahaha!"