"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

　　Travis paced the length of his pristine office, each step a measured beat in an otherwise silent room. The city skyline stretched beyond the glass pane, indifferent to the turmoil churning within him. He had laid bare the complexities of Blake's situation to Camila, expecting... what? Disdain? A sardonic quip? Instead, he was met with an unsettling quiet.


　　"Come on, Travis," he muttered to himself, raking a hand through his neatly styled hair. "You're not some lovelorn teenager."


　　He stopped by his mahogany desk, fingers dancing over its polished surface before reluctantly picking up a photo frame - a candid shot of him at a charity gala. His laugh, frozen in time, seemed to mock his current state of unease.


　　"Two days," he whispered. The words felt like sandpaper against his throat. "Forty-eight hours, and nothing."


CHAPTER 20 Two Days