The Heiress' Revenge-Chapter 121 Prologue

SARAH

Five Years Ago

The mirror never lied, and right now, it was telling me I looked like a happy bride, which I am.

I turned slowly, watching the white lace fabric swirl around my feet. The wedding dress is so beautiful, it has long sleeves and a train that goes on forever, tiny little pearls sewn into the bodice.

The seamstress had just finished the final fitting, and now I stood here in my bedroom, unable to take it off.

"Sarah, you have to eat something," my maid, Rosa, called from the doorway. "You’ve been staring at yourself for two hours."

"I’m not hungry, Rose... thank you," I whispered, not taking my eyes off my reflection.

Tomorrow at this time, I will be Mrs. Damon Specter.

Our parents arranged our marriages to strengthen their bond and build up their business.

My relationship with Damon started stoic, but somewhere along the way, something changed.

Damon started leaving me little notes, flowers showed up at my door, at work... he held my hand under the dinner table.

He kissed me for the first time in his car during a rainstorm, and I felt it everywhere.

"I love you, Sarah," he whispered that night. "I know this was arranged, but I mean it. I really love you."

And I believed him.

Cause I also fell in love with him, and it’s the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.

Tomorrow, I will walk down the aisle toward him and become his wife.

My phone buzzed on the bed.

I walked over and picked it up. It was a text from Monica.

"SOS! Emergency, come to my room right now, please, hurry!"

My brows furrowed in confusion. What is it now?

Monica was my step-sister... since my mother passed away when I was 8 years old from lung cancer. When she got sick, it was fast.

Too fast.

Six months from diagnosis to funeral.

I was still drowning in grief when my father came home with news that he was remarrying.

Her name was Victoria, and she worked at his office... which I later found out that they’ve been having an affair since Mum got sick.

That’s why my relationship with my father has been a little bit rough.

Victoria never liked me.

I could feel it from day one, the way her smile never reached her eyes. The way she "forgot" to invite me to family dinners. The way she told my father, I was being dramatic when I cried about my mother.

But Monica? Monica was different.

Monica was Victoria’s daughter. She was sweet and soft and never had a mean bone in her body.

Monica is a sister I never had, and honestly, she’s the only good thing in my father’s remarriage, and I won’t trade that for anything.

I quickly unzipped the dress and stepped out, leaving it carefully on my bed as I pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Good enough.

I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

Our house was huge.

Old money is kind of huge.

Long hallways, expensive paintings, and chandeliers everywhere.

My room was at one end while Monica’s was at the other.

I started walking toward Monica’s room.

I rushed to Monica’s room, and as I got closer, I slowed down. Her door was slightly open, and a hushed tone was coming out.

Who was she talking to?

A laugh, very soft and breathy.

Monica’s laugh.

I stopped walking as my heart started beating faster. I didn’t know why. For all I know, she probably had a friend over or was probably watching something funny on her phone.

Then I heard a voice.

A male voice.

"Oh baby... fuck! You’re so tight."

My blood turned cold.

I knew that voice.

But no! It can’t be... no.

It can’t be Damon, what? Why am I even thinking of that?

I couldn’t move. My feet were glued to the floor. My brain was screaming at me to walk away, to go back to my room, to pretend I didn’t hear anything.

But my body wouldn’t listen. I took one step forward, then another until I was standing right outside that slightly open door.

I looked through the crack.

And my whole world ended.

Damon was on Monica’s bed naked, on top of Monica... having—

No!

Hell no!

I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

"You’re so bad," Monica giggled against his lips. "You’re getting married tomorrow."

"So?" Damon laughed. It was the same laugh I loved, but now it sounded ugly.

Cruel.

"So your poor fiancée is probably in her room crying happy tears right now thinking about her big day."

Damon pulled back and looked down at her. "She’s so naive, she actually thinks I love her and will marry her?"

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

"She does," Monica agreed, smiling. "She talks about you constantly... she has a lot of plans for you two."

Damon laughed again.

It was the worst sound I ever heard.

"I’ll be damaged to ever marry her.. I plan to leave her hanging in the Aisel."

"And then you and I can be together," Monica teased, running her fingers down his chest.

He kissed her, "Yes, my love."

Monica laughed. "She’s so stupid."

"She really is," Damon agreed.

They both laughed together.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t see through my tears.

I stumbled backward away from the door. My foot hit something, a small table against the wall—and it rattled.

I froze with my heart pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it inside the room.

"She’s going to find out eventually," Monica said.

"Find out what? That I never loved her? Who cares? By the time she figures it out, we’ll be married, and we’ll both have access to her money and her greedy father."

I didn’t wait to hear more.

I ran.

I ran down the hallway as fast as my legs could carry me with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t see where I was going I just ran back toward my room.

I rounded the corner and almost crashed into someone.

Victoria.

My step-mother was standing right there, blocking my path with a smile.

That smile.

The one that never reached her eyes.

"Well, well, well," she said softly. "Look who’s crying."

I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my arm. Hard.

"Let me go," I choked out.

"Did you see something interesting?" Victoria asked, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Something in Monica’s room, maybe?"

I looked at her face, and I knew she knew.

She knew what was happening in there cause she probably planned it.

"You," I whispered. "You knew."

"Of course I knew," Victoria said, still smiling. "I know everything that happens in this house. Including what happens between your fiancé and my daughter."

"How could you? You knew Monica was sleeping with my fiancé, yet you let her?"

"Correction," Victoria said, tightening her grip on my arm. "She’s sleeping with her fiancé."

I blinked. "What?"

Victoria leaned closer to me, her face was inches from mine, and I could smell her perfume.

"Listen to me carefully, Sarah," she said quietly. "You don’t belong here. You never belonged here. This house, this money, this family—it should have been mine from the start. Your father was supposed to be mine, but your mother got in the way. She took everything from me, and now I’m taking everything from you."

"You’re crazy," I whispered.

"Crazy? No I’m patient. I waited years for your mother to get out of the picture, and when she finally did, I moved in.... And just like that, I’m going to take away everything from you and your miserable father... Damon Knight is a gold ticket that only Monica deserves and not you; besides, he seems to have more interest in Monica than you, you were just the bridge to get to the money."

"How dare you?" I said, but my voice was weak.

"Isn’t it? Did you hear what he said in there? Did you hear him call you boring? Stupid? Naive? That’s not love, Sarah. That’s business, and in business someone always loses."

Tears were pouring down my face now, and I couldn’t stop them cause I knew she was right.

Victoria let go of my arm and stepped back, looking at me like I was garbage.

"If you know what’s good for you," she said coldly, "you’ll call off the wedding tomorrow and save yourself the humiliation."

She turned and walked away.

I stood there in the hallway, shaking, crying, broken.

No one loves me.

She was right.

My mother died.

My father married her enemy.

My fiancé was in bed with my step-sister.

My best friend—the one person I trusted—was laughing at me behind my back.

I stumbled into my room and closed the door. I leaned against it and slid down to the floor. My wedding dress was still on the bed, white and beautiful and perfect.

Waiting for tomorrow.

Waiting for a wedding that would never happen.

I sat there for hours.

I don’t know how long, but you could have done as much as I could, and at some point, I stopped crying.

There were no tears left.

Just emptiness.

What if I left?

If I disappeared?

Then I won’t have to go through the pain anymore.

So I did... I picked up the remaining piece of my heart and walked away from my past.