Serena, Welcome to Your Hell

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For three years, I served Serena Sinclair like a beaten dog swallowing her mockery, her contempt, and every cutting word she threw at me. I even stood there and watched her writhing in the hot spring pool with her so-called best guy friend, water splashing, her breathless moans filling the air.

Everyone laughed at me. They called me a spineless cuckold, a freeloader living off his wife. Even Serena believed I could never leave her.

But what she didn't know was that the man groping her freely in that water I'd paid him a million dollars to be there.

And she had no idea that three years of this humiliating marriage was only the tip of the iceberg in my plan for revenge.

When my identity as the heir to a billion-dollar empire comes to light, when the family she's so proud of collapses overnight, when she's on her knees in the mud begging me to come back I'll simply press my foot down on her face, look down at her, and smile. "Easy now. The gates of hell have only just opened for you."

At the end of a winding mountain road sat a luxury private hot spring resort, wrapped in drifting mist.

The night was ink-black. Cold rain tapped steadily against the floor-to-ceiling windows. I stood in a hidden corridor outside the presidential suite, gripping a small recording camera in my hand. On my wrist, tucked deliberately beneath the cuff of a cheap jacket, a Patek Philippe watch ticked its second hand toward midnight without a care in the world.

Today was the third anniversary of my marriage to Serena.

It was also the beginning of a countdown I'd been planning for five years the fall of the Sinclair family.

On the other side of the door, the open-air hot spring pool rippled and steamed. Through the translucent curtain, two tangled bodies moved in and out of shadow, the sounds of splashing water and heavy breathing crashing against the quiet of the night without a shred of restraint.

"Slower Noah, you're hurting me" Serena's voice seeped through the gap in the door, honeyed and trembling, laced with that practiced mix of resistance and invitation.

"Hurting you? Looks to me like you're loving every second." Noah laughed low and shameless his hands moving freely beneath the water. He grabbed her by her slender waist and shoved her hard against the smooth stone wall of the pool.

Water flew. Serena threw her head back, the long curve of her neck tracing a tempting arc in the dim light. Her eyes were glazed, her lips parted, as Noah's mouth dragged across her collarbone and chest, leaving a trail of red marks behind. The hands that once wore the wedding ring I'd chosen for her were now digging into Noah's broad shoulders, her nails sinking deep into his skin.

"You think if Dominic Harrington that pathetic excuse for a husband walked in right now and saw his precious wife like this, he'd piss himself?" Noah breathed the words into Serena's ear, his voice dripping with cruelty.

Serena let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "Why even bring up that useless man? You're killing the mood. He's probably home right now making me that stupid oatmeal he always cooks. That spineless pushover even if he walked in and saw everything, he'd just drop to his knees and beg me not to leave him."

"You actually know how to treat a woman, Noah. Dominic's like a dead fish in bed. He makes my skin crawl just touching me" Serena's moans grew louder as she gave herself over completely to the moment.

I stood in the cold wind. Rain soaked my hair and ran down my face.

Any other man hearing his wife say those things while tangled up with someone else would have lost his mind. Would have kicked that door open and torn them both apart.

But I didn't.

I just stood there, adjusting the camera's focus, capturing every detail of what they were doing, every filthy word they said, in perfect clarity.

My hands were steady. Not even a tremor.

My nails were digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood but not from jealousy. It was hatred. A deep, bone-carved hatred, boiling through my veins.

The truth was, I'd known about them for a long time. In fact, I'd be more accurate to say I'd arranged the whole thing.

Noah the man currently making himself at home in that hot spring pool was someone I had personally placed at Serena's side.

Five years ago, I found Noah half-dead beside a drainage ditch behind an underground casino. He owed a loan shark operation a million dollars and was about to have both hands chopped off on a table.

I walked over and looked at him the way you'd look at a stray dog. Then I dropped a bank card with two million dollars on it in front of him.

"Do something for me. Get close to Serena Sinclair she's the heiress of Sinclair Group. Seduce her. The fewer limits, the better. Get her into bed if you can. Once it's done, I'll give you ten million more and set you up somewhere overseas."

Back then, Noah's eyes blazed with the raw, hungry gleam of a wild animal. He dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead against the floor, over and over: "Boss, you're my savior! Don't worry I know exactly how to handle women. I'll take care of everything, clean and neat!"

And he did.

Watching Serena's face through the lens twisted with lust I felt something deep inside my chest get carved out and replaced with ice-cold poison.

I captured the clearest, most damning footage possible.

This video was going to Richard Sinclair.

The chairman of Sinclair Group the man who, five years ago, drove drunk and killed my mother, then paid someone to take the fall while he walked free.

I packed up the camera, turned, and disappeared into the dark. I made my way back to the beat-up secondhand car I'd rented outside the resort.

The interior reeked of cheap air freshener. I leaned back against the seat, scrolling through the footage I'd just exported to my phone, a cold smile pulling at the corner of my mouth.

I had been playing a role for three full years to get to this moment.

Everyone believed I was a broke nobody a social climber clinging to people above him.

Every morning at six sharp, I dragged myself out of bed and went to the market to buy the freshest ingredients, just to make Serena the soup she liked. I sliced the meat so thin it was almost translucent, skimmed off every drop of fat, all because she'd once mentioned she didn't like greasy food.

I memorized every one of her preferences and food aversions. No chives. No offal. No cold water during her period. At work dinners, I always trailed behind her like a servant blocking drinks meant for her, carrying her bags.

At Richard's company, I worked the lowest rung: a procurement clerk. When the department manager hurled files at my face and screamed at me, I kept my head down and smiled through the humiliation. I spent two hours crammed in a packed subway every morning, wearing the same white shirt until the collar frayed, too stubborn or too broke to replace it.

Every cent of my meager paycheck, I handed over without keeping a single dollar for myself. At lunch, I ate cold sandwiches.

I played the part so convincingly that even Richard that cunning old fox let his guard down. He genuinely believed he had a spineless pushover he could mold however he pleased.

But what they didn't know

The Dominic who burned with a 103-degree fever, lying on the cold floor, calling Serena for help, only to be told "Noah's dog is sick and I need to be with him just drink more water" before she hung up. In the moment that call ended, his eyes went completely cold.

The Dominic who watched Serena use his paycheck to buy Noah a Patek Philippe, then got a finger jabbed in his face while she sneered, "Are you even a man? So petty." That Dominic was already quietly calculating how to skin them both alive.

The Dominic who let Noah move in under the excuse of having "nowhere to stay" strutting around in his slippers, drinking from his cups, even wandering through the living room at midnight wearing Serena's silk robe had already been weaving an inescapable trap in the shadows.

Over these three years, I had fooled Serena. I had fooled Richard. There were even moments I almost fooled myself.

I scrolled through my photo gallery thousands of pictures I'd taken of Serena over the past three years.

Her smile in the sunlight, bright and open. The look of surprise in her eyes when she unwrapped the bag I'd saved six months of paychecks to buy. The curve of her face as she slept against my shoulder.

I had once been naive enough to think if she could show me even a shred of genuine feeling, if she could hold on to even the bare minimum of loyalty, maybe I would let go of that blood feud. Maybe I would take her somewhere far away and live a quiet, ordinary life.

But she never did.

Again and again, she ground my dignity into the dirt. Again and again, her cruelty and recklessness reminded me exactly why I could never forget.

I pressed delete.

Confirm delete all photos?

Confirm.

I watched the gallery wipe itself clean in an instant. A long, slow breath left my lungs.

The game where the hunter pretended to be the prey it was time to end it.

I opened my phone and sent Edward the message I had been holding for five years.

"Go."

The next afternoon, Serena finally drifted home from the hot spring resort, languid and unhurried.

She had an expensive Herms scarf tied around her neck but it wasn't quite long enough to hide the red marks along the edges.

She tossed her platinum bag worth a small fortune onto the couch without a second thought, kicked off her heels, and stared at me with open irritation.

"Dominic, are you dead? Can't you see I just walked in? You couldn't even pour me a glass of water?"

I sat in the shadow of the room. I didn't get up. I didn't go to her like I always had before.

I raised my head and looked at her. Quietly. Still.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Serena was unsettled by my stare. She stormed over, furious and embarrassed, pointing her finger right in my face. "I was playing poker with my bestie at the resort all night. I'm exhausted. Go run my bath. Now."

"Poker?" I rose slowly to my feet, my voice completely flat. "In the hot spring pool with Noah?"

Serena's expression froze. Her pupils contracted for just a split second before she forced herself to look composed and cranked up the volume. "What the hell are you talking about? Oh, so you've got nerve now? You followed me? Dominic, are you out of your mind?!"

Just then, the front door swung open and Noah strolled in like he owned the place.

He didn't even knock.

He noticed we seemed to be arguing and let out a contemptuous snort. He walked over and threw his arm around Serena's shoulder, staring me down with a smirk.

"What's going on, Serena? This loser giving you trouble again?"

Serena melted into his side like she'd found her anchor. She pouted up at him. "He actually had the nerve to suspect us. And the way he was looking at me"

Noah's eyes went cold. He stepped forward and reached out to shove my shoulder.

"Dominic, who the hell do you think you are? Serena can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants. You're just some guy living off her money. What gives you the right to say a damn word? Keep it up and I will end you."

He seemed to have forgotten how he'd knelt at my feet five years ago, begging.

He also seemed to have forgotten who had actually paid for everything.

I shifted slightly to the side, letting his hand miss me, and looked at the two of them like I was staring at a pair of corpses.

"Is that so?" I let out a cold laugh and pulled a thick envelope from the coffee table drawer.

I slammed it down on the glass tabletop with a sharp crack.

The sound echoed through the empty living room. Serena flinched.

"What is wrong with you?!" she shrieked.

I ignored her. I unwound the clasp, letting everything spill out.

The first document was a divorce agreement, already signed with my name.

The second was a fifty-page evidence file. It contained every hotel check-in record from the past three years, explicit screenshots of their messages, bank statements showing Serena quietly siphoning off my paychecks, and high-resolution photos from the hot spring pool last night.

The third was the agreement Noah had signed back then the "seduction contract." The transaction amount was written out in plain black and white, right next to his bright red thumbprint.

"Take a look." I stood there with both hands in my pockets, my tone stripped of any emotion. "When you're done, sign the papers and get out of my house."

What I didn't say was that this was only the second envelope.

Another one had been delivered to her father's office five minutes ago.

Serena's eyes landed on the scattered photos. The color drained from her face instantly.

Her hands trembling, she picked up the evidence file. The further she flipped through it, the harder her body shook. When she got to the contract with the red thumbprint, it was like she'd been struck by lightning. Her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

"What what is this" She looked up in disbelief, eyes locked on Noah, her voice cracking into something raw and desperate. "Noah! Tell me this isn't real! You were with me because you loved me right?! That's the only reason right?!"

Noah panicked. He snatched the contract out of her hands, and every trace of arrogance vanished from his face, replaced by sheer terror.

He spun toward me, jaw clenched, and snarled. "Dominic! You said if I got her into bed, you'd give me ten million and set me up abroad! You gave me your word!"

"My word?"

I walked toward him slowly. My gaze cut into him like a blade, and the pressure I was putting off hit him like a wall.

"I'm supposed to keep my word to a dog who'll hump anything for money?"

Noah faltered under the weight of it. He stumbled back two steps then rage overtook fear. He raised his fist and swung it at me. "I'll kill you!"

I didn't move. I just said, quietly, "Try it. See what happens. Take a look outside and tell me whether those dozen bodyguards out there will leave anything of you worth burying."

Noah's fist stopped dead in midair. He turned to look out the window. Somehow, without any of us noticing, the villa's courtyard had filled with bodyguards in black suits, stone-faced and still, surrounding the entire property with no way in or out.

That was when Serena finally broke.

She launched herself at Noah like she'd lost her mind, clawing and scratching at him. "You bastard! You lied to me! You were only ever after the money! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

Noah shoved her away with an impatient push, and Serena slammed hard into the sofa, her forehead splitting open and bleeding.

I stood over them, watching this ugly little spectacle play out. No satisfaction. Just disgust.

"Enough." My voice came out cold and sharp.

The room went silent. The only sound was Serena's muffled sobbing.

"Serena, I'm giving you two options."

I walked over and crouched down in front of her, meeting her terrified eyes head-on.

"Option one sign the divorce papers and walk away with nothing. Take your lover and get out."

"Option two I hand everything over to the courts and the press. You won't just lose your reputation. You'll go to prison for hiding marital assets."

Serena clutched my pant leg with both hands, tears mixing with the blood running down her forehead. She looked completely broken.

"Dominic, I was wrong I'm so sorry Please forgive me. He tricked me, I swear. I know you love me. You love me so much how could you do this to me?"

"Love?"

I grabbed her jaw and forced her head up, making her look at me. Five years of hatred and rage burned in my eyes.

"You think I spent three years waiting on you hand and foot because I loved you?"

I leaned close to her ear and said each word slowly, through gritted teeth: "Every single day I looked at your face, I felt sick. I wanted to tear you apart you and your murderer father piece by piece."

Serena's eyes went wide, like she was staring at a stranger. A monster. "What what are you talking about?"

"Five years ago, on the ring road, a black Maybach hit a woman who was carrying a birthday cake. She died. Your father Richard didn't stop. He sped away. Then he paid someone to take the fall for him."

My voice was ice-cold, like it was coming from somewhere far underground.

"That woman was my mother."

"And I am the sole heir to the Harrington Group, Dominic Harrington."

Serena froze completely. She stopped breathing.

She stared at me like something inside her had gone hollow. Her hands slowly released their grip on my pant leg.