He Married Me for Revenge

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Chapter 1

Raindrops drummed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Santangelo estate, echoing the unease stirring within me.

I adjusted the black silk evening gown I wore—a custom piece Lorenzo had ordered from Italy two years ago, its neckline adorned with the sapphire necklace he'd given me.

Tonight was the family's annual gathering, where Boston's most powerful figures would be in attendance.

I gently touched Elena's arm. She was doing well today, showing no signs of an impending seizure. At fifteen, she looked like an angel in her simple white dress.

"Sister, Lorenzo seems different today," Elena whispered in my ear.

I glanced toward Lorenzo, who was deep in conversation with family members. He did seem unusually serious, those deep green eyes holding a coldness I'd never seen before. Maybe it was just business pressure.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Lorenzo's voice suddenly boomed through the hall, cutting off all conversation.

I saw him standing on the marble staircase, holding a small recording device in his hand.

"Tonight, I want to share an interesting story with you all," his voice was low and dangerous.

Lorenzo's gaze locked directly onto mine. "Everyone, let me introduce my wife, Stella Russo—daughter of federal agent Tony Russo, the undercover cop who killed my father."

Time seemed to freeze. Everything around me blurred except for Lorenzo's words, which pierced through my chest like bullets.

He pressed play on the recording device. My father's voice echoed from the speakers, heartbreakingly clear:

"I've infiltrated the Santangelo family. Target Giorgio Santangelo will conduct a major drug transaction at the docks next Tuesday. Please prepare the arrest warrant..."

My legs began to tremble. If Elena hadn't steadied me, I might have collapsed to the floor.

"Six years—did you really think I loved you?" Lorenzo descended the stairs, each step feeling like he was trampling on my heart. "You were just the perfect tool in my revenge plan. Tony Russo's daughter—I wanted you to experience firsthand what it feels like to lose everything."

The guests held their breath, their eyes showing shock, gossipy excitement, and either sympathy or disgust toward me. I felt like I was being stripped naked and displayed before everyone.

"Lorenzo..." Six years of memories flashed by like movie scenes: our first date, his gentle kisses, our wedding, countless nights when he whispered "I love you"...

"Was any of it real?" I finally found my voice.

"Every kiss, every sweet word, every time we made love," his voice was as cold as winter's blade. "All for this moment. To see you completely broken."

Elena trembled beside me, and I could feel her fear.

"Marco," Lorenzo instructed his subordinate.

A tall man approached us. "Ma'am, the jewelry you're wearing belongs to the boss."

"What?" I stepped back.

"The purse, necklace, earrings, and rings," Marco's voice held no emotion. "These all must stay."

I looked down at my wedding ring—the one Lorenzo had personally placed on my finger, the one I'd caressed countless nights before sleep. Now it felt like a burning shackle.

"Sister... I'm scared..." Elena's voice shook, and I noticed she was showing early signs of a seizure.

I held her tight. "It's okay, we're leaving soon."

I began removing the jewelry, each piece feeling like it was tearing at my skin. The guests murmured around us, their whispers buzzing like a swarm of bees.

Then a sharp female voice called from upstairs: "Trash with trash."

I looked up to see Bianca Torrino—Lorenzo's childhood sweetheart who had always resented our marriage. She held a cup I'd handmade, a birthday gift that had taken me two months to complete for Lorenzo.

She threw the cup down, and the shards scattered across the marble floor at my feet.

"Lorenzo, now you can have what you've always wanted," Bianca's smile was vicious and triumphant. "That undercover cop's daughter finally gets her comeuppance."

I knelt to pick up the broken pieces, my hands stinging as the shards cut me. 'Why? Why torture me like this? If he truly hates me, why not just kill me?'

The main door swung open, letting in rain and cold wind.

"Miss Stella, please," the driver said coldly.

I helped Elena toward the door, each step feeling like walking on razor blades. Behind us, I could hear the guests' whispered conversations.

Just as I was about to step outside, I stopped.

For the first time in six years, I truly saw Lorenzo clearly. He stood in the center of the hall, impeccably dressed, expression cold as a statue. But I noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

I released Elena's hand and walked back.

Everyone held their breath, watching as I approached Lorenzo.

Then I raised my hand and slapped him with all my strength.

The sharp crack echoed through the silent hall. Lorenzo's face turned to the side, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Congratulations, Lorenzo Santangelo," my voice was surprisingly calm. "You won."

He slowly turned to look at me, and I caught a glimpse of something unrecognizable in those green eyes. But he quickly concealed it.

"I never needed anyone's love," he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, "especially not from an enemy's daughter."

I could feel tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall. Not here, not in front of them.

"I pray you'll never regret tonight's choice." I took one last look at him, then turned and left.

This time, I didn't look back.

Rain immediately soaked through the thin silk of my evening gown, but I didn't care. Elena gripped my hand tightly, her palm damp with the cold sweat of terror that I couldn't yet explain to her.

The sound of the car door closing felt like the end of my previous life. Through the rearview mirror, I watched the estate's lights fade into the rainy night.

Six years of marriage—an elaborate revenge plot. I was an undercover agent's daughter, kept by my enemy, caressed by my enemy, betrayed by my enemy.

But now it was all over.

"Sister, where are we going?" Elena asked softly.

I squeezed her hand. "We're going home, Elena. Back to where we belong."

Though I wasn't sure where that place was.

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