The Revenge Photo

Start Reading

Everybody in Port Haven knew it: Ethan Forrester would sooner make love with a nightclub hostess than make love with me.

Daily headline: When would Mrs. Forrester finally give away her precious virginity?

Facing the cameras, Ethan tilted his gaze toward me without a trace of shame.

Fine, we can each do our own thing. If you can't stand it, you're free ti find someone too.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away as if nothing mattered.

That same night, news of his latest fling's photos with him in bed topped the trending charts again.

When everyone expected me to sit there and wither until dawn, I did something else.

I reached out to a paparazzo and booked myself a trending story.

Then I tore up the lace nightgown, messed up the sheets, and took a photo from a 'he-just-left' angle, one that looked convincingly intimate. Then I anonymously sent it to Ethan:

"Bro, your wife was amazing. Let me know when the divorce is final"

Watching the story I bought rocket to the top of the trending list, I was ready to sleep.

Not half an hour later, heavy, hurried footsteps thudded through the house.

"Lena Mercer! Are you fucking kidding me? Is that some kind of revenge? Who's that hell man?"

A photograph was slammed into my face.

Half of it showed suggestive 'aftermath' shot, the other half showed Ethan pinning Maya Hale up against a window in an actual passionate shot.

That was the exact story I'd paid the paparazzo to release.

"FORRESTERS REACH NEW AGREEMENT OPEN MARRIAGE, NO INTERFERENCE."

I sat on the edge of the bed, I tightened my robe casually.

"Isn't that exactly what you wanted?" I asked.

"You should never have, of all things, humiliated me by sleeping with my father's illegitimate daughter!" Ethan's breath hitched. He ignored my point, teeth clenched, he demanded, "Who is he?"

"You don't need to know. That's only fair."

I used to swear I'd know every detail about his mistresses.

Young and intolerant of any slight.

But I learned something later, every time I reached for the truth, he'd already moved on to a new one.

So I stopped humiliating myself by asking.

Ethan let out a sudden, chilling laugh.

"You're really something."

Then his eyes landed on the red mark at my collarbone.

In an instant he pinned me down on the bed.

I fought and screamed. A sharp knife sliced into my collarbone.

Blood bloomed, obscuring the suspicious mark.

"You're crazy! Let go of me!" I screamed.

Ethan's eyes were bloodshot as he pressed down on me, a vein bulging on his forehead. "First time, and last time!"

"I'll take the trending down. Before I lose it, you'd better act normal again!"

By "normal" was me watching his bedroom scandals flood the news without batting an eye.

Receive the used condoms they mailed me, the stained underwear, and I was supposed to accept it all graciously.

He stared at me with hard eyes for a long moment.

Only when he saw the reflexive tears streaming down my face did he let go, pulling bandages from a drawer.

I shoved him away. "Don't touch me."

His expression darkened completely.

"You staged that to get at me. Now who are you pretending to be?"

"You put on a show to get my attention. What does that make you proud of?" His knife grazed my arm by accident.

Blood soaked the silk sheets.

Pain made sweat spring to my brow, but my heart felt like it was being ripped out a thousand times over.

Ethan's eyes did not flicker, his gaze was merciless.

"My mother was right. Women clawing their way up from the bottom like you...your methods are just as tasteless. Why put on a show for me? If you're so capable, get a real divorce. Your sister's a thousand times better than you."

He left with that final sneer and didn't look back.

Not long after, a divorce agreement, signed with his name, slid into my phone.

Even the split of assets was seven to three in my favor.

He had always been sure I couldn't live without him.

But I signed it. Then I called a number to confirm my departure.

Ethan, what makes you so certain that man doesn't exist?

When I hung up, the tears that had been held back edged out quietly.

I remembered when Ethan was determined to marry me, against everyone's wishes.

His parents looked down on my ordinary background, the President of the Port Haven Business Association nearly tried to have him ostracized.

Still, he took the heat and gave me a lavish wedding.

Everyone said I was the happiest woman in Port Haven.

Unfortunately, I wasn't the only woman who had fallen for that godlike man.

On our wedding night he'd answered a phone and not come back.

I sat awake until dawn.

At dawn he came home drunk and, soothing me, "Do you know what I love most about you? You're so sensible, you don't stir trouble. The Forrester family needs a wife like you."

In that moment, the rage that had been boiling inside me was extinguished by cold water.

I learned to behave. No fuss, no drama. A quiet ornament.

But now he'd chosen Maya Hale, the person I hated above all else, as his new mistress.

Years ago my father brought Maya home and insisted my mother accept her as "a daughter."

My proud, strong mother simply held me, silent.

She gave my father two choices..

Send Maya away, or she would leave the family with me.

My father stayed silent, stood on the balcony and let the cold wind hit him all night.

When he came back into the room, my mother had jumped from the window.

It rained that night.

The rain washed the blood from my mother's face.

Ethan came and held me while I pounded fists into his chest, murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay"

But he chose Maya as his new favorite anyway.

As Mrs. Forrester, what dignity could I possibly have left?

That night Ethan didn't come home.

The trending news I'd arranged had been buried by him so deep no one could find it.

Yet he openly brought Maya to a gala and let her stand in for "Mrs. Forrester."

He invited all of Port Haven to celebrate Maya's birthday the next day.

A birthday that, in case he forgot, happened to fall on my mother's death anniversary.

He meant to make me see how utterly inferior I was.

Ethan sent a private doctor to dress the deep wound on my collarbone.

"Mr. Forrester still cares for you. He remembers your condition, your wounds take longer to heal."

I laughed bitterly and didn't answer.

Then an anonymous video plopped into my inbox.

Maya in it was unraveling.

"The night I went to persuade Aunt to accept me as a daughter, she hit me and said I wasn't worthy," Maya sobbed. "We argued and I pushed her it was self-defense, I swear, Dad, Ethan, what am I supposed to do now?"

She slapped her own mouth frantically, apologizing over and over. My head rang; the world spun.

My father slapped her hard, clutching his chest with rage.

"How could I have a daughter like you? That was my wife!" Maya stared stubbornly at Ethan's back.

"You'll help me, won't you? You have feelings for me, right?" she pleaded.

Ethan's face darkened, then he said, cold and resolved, "Go hide for a while. Leave the police matters to me."

Every word Ethan uttered cut me cleanly.

About my mother's death, the whole world had been hiding things from me.

Including the man I had trusted without question.

The night I ran through the rain to the police station, Ethan had tried to chase after me and crashed his car.

He had crawled out, grabbed my ankle with his bloody hand and said, "Lena, go back home. Leave this to me."

I naively thought he'd give us justice.

I could not imagine my mother abandoning me. But the truth was worse.

My father and my husband had both betrayed me!

The next day I showed up, bedraggled, at Maya's birthday gala.

Maya clung sweetly to Ethan's arm, proudly showing off the family heirloom ring he'd given her.

When I entered, everyone's eyes fell on me some scornful, some mocking.

Only Ethan looked calm, expecting the old, subservient Lena to beg for peace and open his arms.

He was disappointed. I had no intent to beg.

"Ethan Forrester , it was Maya who killed my mother, right? You helped cover it up, didn't you?" I shouted.

His breath stopped. Guilt flickered across his face and vanished.

"Today's Maya's birthday. Don't make a scene." Even my father rushed up from the audience and slapped me hard.

Seeing their warning looks, I accepted reality. The video was real.

Maya flung herself at me in crocodile tears.

"Lena, I know Aunt hated me, she would have starved me to death if she could. But we're sisters. From now on we have to depend on each other. Please don't hurt me anymore. I won't tell on you about the abuse. I'll be good."

She unconsciously revealed scars on her arm, and I felt a flash of sympathy.

Ethan watched and his face twisted with disappointment.

"Lena," he said, "she's your sister. How could you be so cruel?"

A hush spread among the guests; whispers cut like knives.

"You heard? Lena Mercer's mother tried to kill Maya Hale and instead killed herself. Serves her right."

"Can you believe Lena tried to turn it on Maya? She's shameless."

"They're just products of a rotten upbringing. Poor breeding shows."

The torrent of insults washed over me.

My mother's final, desperate fall flashed before my eyes.

I couldn't take it. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands were at Maya's throat.

"You'll pay for this!" I hissed.

She writhed in my grip. A moment later a huge force shoved me aside.

Ethan raised a trembling hand and slapped me without mercy.

"Lena Mercer, what do you think you're doing? Clear this up right now and tell everyone you lied, that you framed Maya, or"

His voice dropped to a low, merciless whisper.

"Or I will level your mother's grave. Isn't today her death anniversary?"