4: PAST;Six Months Ago: The Beginning of My Revenge

BRANDON

Being appointed CEO of my grandfather's company should have been a proud moment.Instead, it was giving me a goddamn headache.I barely had time to adjust to the new transition before being thrown into meetings, partnerships, and acquisitions.

My assistant enters, her voice crisp and professional. "Mr. Gracia, you'll be late for your lunch meeting if you don't leave now."I sigh, grabbing my jacket. "Let's go."

This meeting was important.I was trying to acquire a clothing brand, one I saw massive potential in.

With the right investment and planning, it could become something huge.

I just had to convince Mr. Tim Andrews to sell.

But I wasn't planning on taking it away from him, just restructuring it, keeping him as CEO, and controlling 60% of the company.

I knew he'd agree, the deal was too good to pass. After signing some paper work with him, l planned to meet with the company staff on Monday.

On Monday, I visit the company to assess its operations.

I request all employee portfolios to review their performance and qualifications.Some people were definitely getting fired.But as I skimmed through the files, my eyes freeze on a name.I should have ignored it. I should have tossed her file aside like any other.

But the second I saw her name, it was over.

Alexia Harris.

The words blurred as I tightened my grip on the portfolio, my breathing slowing, sharpening. My pulse slammed against my ribs, the sound filling my ears. It couldn't be her. Not after all these years.

My eyes darted to the photo clipped to her résumé.

And there she was.The woman who shattered me. The woman I spent years searching for. Who left, vanished from my life without a damn explanation.

Rage burned through me, raw and all-consuming.

She disappeared. She let me suffer. And now she's here? Living her best life like I never fucking existed?A bitter laugh crawled up my throat.No. She doesn't get to walk free.I slammed the file shut, forcing my hands to unclench. My assistant glanced at me with concern, but I ignored her.

I need to see her. Now."Summon Ms. Harris to my office," I ordered, keeping my voice even.She nodded and left, but the wait felt endless. My mind reeled with every possible scenario. Would she recognize me? Would she stammer, try to explain? Would she lie?Or worse—would she look at me and feel nothing?

A sharp knock on the door.

"Come in," l said bracing myself. The door opened and she walked in. The sight 9f her rendered me speechless for a second.

Her red hair was still the same shade of wildfire, but longer now, flowing past her shoulders. The freckles that once dusted her cheeks like stars were still there, faint but familiar. She looked more mature, her features more refined ,but it was her. She was wearing a pencil skirt that highlighted her long smooth legs.The sight brought back memories,

Her legs wrapped around my waist

Her back arched,

Hands around my neck

Mouth next to my ear

the sweetest mourns living her mouth .

"You asked for me sir. " Her voice brings me back to reality

The reality of her betrayal. My anger returns ten folds. I clenched my fist preventing myself from doing something l will regret. And did she just call me sir? Doesn't she not recognize me? And then it hits me. She won't be able to recognize me. With my long hair trimmed, all of my neck and most of my hand tattoos gone ,my contacts removed .I'm unrecognizable by her.

For a second, I just stared.

Five years. Five fucking years. And not even a flicker of recognition.Something inside me cracked. My jaw clenched, but I forced a smile, leaning back in my chair as if her presence meant nothing.

"Yes. Have a seat."

She hesitated before lowering herself onto the chair, smoothing out the hem of her skirt. She clasped her hands in front of her. She even folded her lower lip inward—a nervous habit she's always had. She looked uncomfortable. Good.

"Is there a problem with my work?" she asked, voice wary.I watched her closely, searching for even the smallest sign of familiarity. Nothing.The last thread of restraint snapped.

You forgot me, Alexia? Let's see if you forget what I do next.I kept my voice measured. "Your team has yet to pitch new designs."She exhaled in relief. Relief. As if she actually thought I called her in for something as trivial as work.

"We have," she said quickly. "Mr. Tim requested to review them first before sending them to you. He might have forgotten."

I barely heard her. My mind was spinning with something far greater than company designs.

How dare she look so… untouched? Unbothered? She had no idea how many nights I lost over her, how long I waited for answers that never came. And now she was here, working a job she loved, completely oblivious to the destruction she left behind.

No. That wasn't how this ended.

She needed to suffer.

I tilted my head, studying her, imagining every way I could break her down. The way she did to me.

And then it hit me.

Marriage.

She wanted stability? A career? A life? I'd take it all. I'd make her dependent on me, trap her in a way she'd never escape. And when she finally realized who I was, it would be too late.She walked away from me once.

This time, I'll make sure she never can.My lips curled into something close to a smirk as I dismissed her.

"Then I guess that's all."She nodded and stood, eager to leave. She still didn't know.

But that was about to change soon enough.

The second the door closed, I picked up my phone.

"Do a full background check on Alexia Harris. I want everything down to what she eats and when she sleeps.

I ended the call and exhaled slowly, letting the satisfaction sink in.

Game on, sweetheart.

Three days. That's how long it took to find her weakness.

I leaned back in my chair, rolling the edge of my pen between my fingers as I scanned the background report on Alexia Harris. Every detail was there, down to the brand of coffee she drank every morning.

Her family was is Europe.Few friends. Limited savings.

But the real gift?

Her work visa had expired.

Perfect.

I smirked as I dialed a number, my assistant picking up immediately."Pull some strings," I ordered. "Make sure her work visa application is denied."

A pause. "Sir, that would mean—"

"That she loses her job," I finished coldly. "Yes. That's exactly what I want."Silence. Then a quiet, "Understood."

I hung up and let the satisfaction settle in. Now, we wait.

The knock on my door came three days later.

I knew it would.

"Come in," I called.

Alexia entered, her composure cracking at the edges. She looked different from the last time we spoke—a little paler, a little more desperate. Her hands twisted together as she stepped forward.

"Mr. Gracia," she started, her voice controlled but tight. I could hear nervousness in her voice.I gestured for her to sit.

She hesitated, then did.

"I need to speak to you about something important," she said, inhaling sharply. "I—my work visa application was rejected. I don't know why, but if I don't get it renewed, I'll have to leave the country. And…" she hesitated, clearing her throat. "I need this job."

I almost laughed.

She still had no idea.

I folded my hands on the desk, pretending to consider her words.

"That's unfortunate," I said, watching her closely. "But if your application was denied, there's not much I can do. Immigration laws are strict."

Her jaw tensed. "I know, but… Mr. Tim said he would speak to someone, and now suddenly there's nothing? It doesn't make sense."

She was smart. Suspicious. Good.

"Sometimes these things don't work out," I said smoothly , knowing damn well I made sure of it. Her fingers tightened on her lap. "Right."

The silence stretched.

I let her wallow in her nervousness. I wanted her a wreck.

She swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. Almost pleading.

"Is there… any way you could help me?"

Bingo.

I leaned forward slightly, tilting my head. "That depends."

Her brows furrowed. "On what?"

I let a long pause stretch between us "How quick do you want you problem fixed. She smiles nervously, " soon very soon obviously. "I stare at her biding time before l landed my last blow.

"Would you consider marrying me?"

The words landed like a grenade between us.

Alexia jerked back in her seat. "What?"

"Marriage," I repeated, my tone casual, as if I were suggesting a simple business deal and not a lifetime contract. "It would solve your visa problem immediately."

Her eyes widened. "That's—that's illegal. " confusion all over her face she continues, " besides why would you want to marry me. You don't even know me" 

I know everything about you you just don't remember.

I smiled. "Not if we do it properly and looking at you, " l pause for dramatic effect, " you're just perfect. No emotional attachment and plus l get to bale on my arranged marriage."

A sharp breath. She wasn't just shocked—she was wary.

"You're my boss," she said, shaking her head. "That would be—"

"Unconventional?" I finished. "Maybe. But effective."

She looked like she wanted to run.

Which meant I needed to push harder.

I sighed, shifting back in my chair. "Of course, if you'd rather try to handle this on your own, I understand. I just assumed you'd prefer to stay."

Her throat bobbed. "I do."

"Then think about it." I let my voice soften just a little. "No strings. Just a marriage of convenience. Once you're stable, we can part ways. It's a win win situation."

A lie.

I wasn't letting her go.

She didn't answer right away. The conflict was all over her face.

But she was desperate.

And desperation always won.

"I…" She exhaled shakily. "I need time to think."

"Of course," I said smoothly. "Take the weekend."

She nodded, pushing to her feet a little too quickly. "Thank you," she muttered before hurrying out the door.

I watched her leave, my smirk growing.

She'd think about it.

And by Monday, she'd be mine.

Two weeks later, she stood in front of me in a courthouse, signing away her freedom.

Alexia Harris—no, Alexia Gracia now.

My wife.

She wore a simple white dress, her hands trembling as she held the pen. The way her fingers hesitated over my last name sent a dark thrill through me.

She was finally mine.

She just didn't know the cost yet.

The officiant pronounced us husband and wife.

Alexia turned to me, forcing a small smile as if to say, We did it. Problem solved.

But the moment our eyes locked, I saw something else.

Doubt.Something deep inside her knew she'd just made a mistake.I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers brush against her skin.

She stiffened, but I only smiled.

Let the game begin.

The moment we left the courthouse, the walls started closing in on her.

I could see it in the way her fingers twitched, how she avoided my touch, how her breathing changed every time she looked at me.

Good.

She should be uneasy.

Because her life no longer belonged to her

Our drive home was silent.

Alexia sat beside me in the car, staring out the window, her fingers gripping the hem of her dress. She looked like she wanted to disappear.

Too late for that, sweetheart.

When we arrived at the mansion, she hesitated before stepping out."You coming in, wife?" I asked, letting the word settle between us.She flinched, then squared her shoulders. "Of course."I led her inside, watching as her eyes swept over the grand marble floors, the glistening chandelier, the expensive furniture.Everything about this place screamed power, wealth, and inescapable luxury.

But for her?

It was a cage.

I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, as she took slow steps inside.

"You should get comfortable," I murmured. "This is home now."She turned, forcing a tight smile. "Right."She started walking toward the guest room.My smirk widened. Not happening."Alexia," I called, and she stopped. "That's not our bedroom."She froze, then turned to face me. "I—I assumed I'd be staying in a different room."

I let the silence stretch, watching her shift under my gaze."You're my wife," I said smoothly. "What kind of husband would I be if I let you sleep alone?"I watched the panic flicker in her eyes.

Her lips parted, struggling for a response. "I just… I thought this was a business arrangement."

I stepped closer, letting the air between us thin. "It is."

"But—"

"But I didn't say you'd get to live like a stranger in my house." I traced my fingers along her jaw, feeling the tension coiling beneath her skin. "You're my wife, Alexia. And that means you'll play the part."

Her breathing hitched.

"I—"

"Go change," I murmured, tilting my head toward the master bedroom. "Your side of the closet is already filled."

Her fists clenched.

She knew she had no choice.Slowly, she turned and walked toward our room.The moment the door shut behind her, I exhaled, my smirk fading.

This should have felt like victory.Then why did I feel something else?Why did my chest tighten when I saw the look in her eyes?She looked at me like I was a stranger.Like I was a monster.I clenched my jaw and loosened my tie.Good. Let her fear me. That's exactly what she deserves.

Days passed, and Alexia started realizing just how deep she was in.

She tried leaving the house? Security didn't let her.Days later her termination letter arrived. She tried questioning me but l ignored her. I could see the frustration the confusion. Wheels turning in her head. Why is he doing this?

She tried accessing her bank account? It was empty.

She stormed into my office one her face red with fury.

"You took my money," she seethed.I barely looked up from my glass of whiskey. "I protected it.""Protected it?!" She slammed her hands on my desk. "That was everything I had!"I took a slow sip before setting my glass down. "And what were you going to do with it? Run?"Her silence told me everything.

My smirk returned."You're my wife now," I said. "You don't need to worry about money. Everything you need is provided for you.""I don't want your money," she snapped.

I leaned back, twirling the glass between my fingers. "Then what do you want, Alexia?"Her breathing was ragged. For a moment, I thought she might cry.

But then she lifted her chin, fire burning behind her hazel eyes."I want my life back."

I exhaled, standing slowly. "That's the thing, sweetheart."

I walked around the desk, my presence towering over her as I leaned in.

"You don't have a life anymore. You have a husband."

She inhaled sharply, stepping back.

And for the first time, I saw it in her eyes.

True, bone-deep realization.

She was trapped.

And there was no way out.

That drove her crazy. She cried for days. A little part of me felt sorry for her but remembering how she left me!? I didn't give a fuck.

She tried applying for jobs but no one would employ her. Then l made our relationship public knowing fully well she will receive the backlash. Chloe Harper,the woman who l was to marry had announced to the whole world that l was her fiance. She had one hell of crazy fans and they were shipping us.

The couple made from heaven they said. After my marriage announcement,Chloe's fans breathed down her neck. Comments flooded all her social media with insults and that's when she figured out who l was. Yes it took her 2 fucking months of marriage for her to finally remember me. That hurt more than the heartbreak. It infuriated me. How could she forget me that easily. I saw the look of betrayal on her face after finding out. And that look ?

God ,,, it made so fucking,,,, angry!!

How dare she look at me as if l hurt her. She is the one who decided to live. Abandoning our love. She is a fucking hypocrite.

This was the final blow but it felt like a blow on my face

Her face was pale, eyes wide, hands trembling.

She took a step forward, fists shaking. "You set this up. You— you got my visa denied. You stole my money. You made sure I had no choice but to marry you!"

I let her words settle in the air, watching her slowly unravel.

Then, I smirked.

She finally put the pieces together.

"Smart girl," I murmured.

Now you know what it feels to be betrayed by someone you trusted.

She staggered back like I had slapped her.

"You… you ruined me," she whispered, voice breaking.

I walked toward her, slow, deliberate.

"Do you know how long I waited for this?" I said. "Do you know how many nights I spent looking for you, wondering why you left? Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned without an explanation?"

Her lips parted, but she had no defense.

"You took everything from me," I continued, my voice low, dark. "So I took everything from you."

Tears welled in her eyes.

For the first time, I saw real fear.

"You're a monster," she breathed.

I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear—a gentle touch, masking the violence underneath.

"No, sweetheart," I murmured, my lips brushing against her ear.

"I'm your husband."