"I didn't mean to steal your fiancé!" Layla choked out through her tears. "I just couldn't help falling in love with him. I've always been so envious of you, Camila!"
Camila's gaze flickered between them, her heart pounding a relentless rhythm against her chest.
"Envious?" Camila finally spat out, her voice sharp with incredulity. "Envious of what, Layla? My life falling apart?"
"Yes, envious!" Layla sobbed, her voice breaking. "You've always had everything—the perfect family, the perfect life. And I have nothing." Her chin quivered as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"Nothing?" Camila's laugh was hollow, bitter. "You call taking my fiancé 'nothing'?"

***
When Camila returned home, filled with excitement to surprise her fiancé Blake, she was devastated to find him in bed with her stepsister Layla. This betrayal shattered her heart completely.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Layla had also stolen Camila's meticulously designed jewelry pieces, using them to advance her own career dramatically. Even Camila's father and stepmother openly sided with Layla, pushing Camila into unprecedented isolation.
However, Camila was not broken by these blows. Determined to fight back, she began plotting her revenge with the help of Travis Turner, a business tycoon.
On this path of revenge, filled with emotional entanglements and family power struggles, Camila leverages her talent and resolve to the fullest. Yet, on the brink of justice and vengeance, who will emerge as the true victor?

Second Chance? Never Again

　　Camila's fingers danced across the keyboard with a purpose, her deep brown eyes scanning the open call for submissions on her laptop screen. She clicked the 'respond' button before she could second-guess herself, her heart racing with a cocktail of anticipation and determination.


　　"Hope," she murmured to herself, the word hanging in the air like a promise. The cursor blinked back at her expectantly as she started to flesh out her idea in the application form.


　　"Let's see what you can do, Camila Martinez," she challenged her reflection on the darkened screen, a smirk playing on her lips. Her long, dark hair fell over one shoulder as she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with focus.


　　"Hope is not just a whisper in the dark. It's the roar at dawn that breaks the silence of night," she typed out the opening line of her submission. "It's the defiant glance in the face of adversity, the steady hand that holds the brush to paint the future in strokes of possibility."


CHAPTER 13 Hope