Vengeance So Sweet

Cynthia's Point of View

I stared at my reflection in the mirror after slipping into a simple black jean, a fitted black top, and my favorite black leather jacket. Disgust curled my lips; I despised this face. Longing for my old self consumed me, but Amanda and Victor had taken everything I cherished. Soon, they would pay for their betrayal—I would bide my time.

With determined hands, I grabbed my eyeliner and traced my eyes in stark black, then layered my lips with a bold, velvety black lipstick. Transformation complete.

A sense of satisfaction washed over me as I surveyed my reflection. This was me—the darkness made me feel powerful. After a last glance, I stepped out of the bathroom, my brows furrowing upon seeing Ethan seated on the couch, dressed for an outing.

"I'm leaving now; see you later," I announced, my gaze fixed on him. Ethan rose from the couch, unfazed.

"Let's go then," he replied, grabbing his car keys. Confusion pricked at me as I narrowed my eyes.

"Ethan, where are we going?" I asked, bewildered.

"Didn't you say you were going out? I'm coming with you," he stated. "Hurry; my grandpa doesn't like anyone out late at night."

"I didn't hire you as my bodyguard. This is my personal life, and I'd prefer if you didn't interfere," I shot back, staring at him.

"Trust me, I don't relish meddling in your affairs, but I have no choice. You're still weak and unable to control your emotions, which leaves me no option but to protect you," Ethan responded, his tone steady. I exhaled.

He was right, but I didn't want to burden him with my struggles. He had already done so much for me.

"Well, if you're so desperate to tag along, let's just get this over with," I said, provoking a snort from him.

"I wish that were the case," Ethan replied, rolling his eyes as he made his way to the door, with me following.

Once outside, he opened the car door for me, and I settled into the passenger seat. As he started the engine and pulled away, I entered a destination into the GPS. Hope fluttered in my chest—I needed to find that money. It was the final piece of my plan.

"You're aware that I've changed your identity, right?" Ethan's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I tilted my head, curious.

"Did you change my name?" I asked. My name felt sacred, a remnant of my past I wasn't ready to abandon.

"Nothing has changed. Your name is still Cynthia Marrison, your mother's surname. What's different is that you're now broke, with an empty bank account," Ethan said with a hint of sarcasm. I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"Should I be crying about that?" I retorted.

Ethan chuckled. "Maybe you should. Didn't you see how your husband and friend betrayed you? If you ask me, you brought this on yourself. Trusting is fine, but over-trusting is a mistake."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing larger.

"You're right. It's better to trust a stone than a human being. It's been proven that regardless of the good we do for others, betrayal lingers just beneath the surface," I replied.

"Too bad you realized that too late, but it's alright. We all make mistakes; what matters is learning from them and never repeating them," Ethan said calmly.

My curiosity piqued, I raised an eyebrow, the way he was speaking told me that he was betrayed too and I couldn't help but ask. "Did someone break your heart too?"

Ethan let out a soft laugh, glancing at me briefly before refocusing on the road. "Since I know so much about you, it's fair that you learn something about me."

"I'm listening," I prompted.

"I'm the illegitimate son of the Black family. My mother was my father's mistress, and she wasn't wealthy. I grew up in poverty. After my mother passed away when I was in my teens, I was left alone, but I persevered with my studies. In college, I fell in love with a girl who fell for me too, believing I came from a rich family. We even got married, but when she realized I couldn't provide her with the luxurious life she craved, she left me for my wealthy friend. Since then, my only goal has been to work hard and become the richest man in the city—and I accomplished it all on my own."

I let out a deep breath. "I suppose some of us are just not meant for love. I've exhausted myself chasing an illusion. Love is a fairy tale we're forced to believe—nothing more. After what Victor did, I locked away my heart and tossed the keys into the depths of the sea. No one will ever find them. I'm done with love, fake friends, and all that rotten nonsense." I said, meaning each words..

"Good to know we're on the same page. I don't have to worry about you falling in love," Ethan replied, a hint of relief in his tone.

"Me and falling in love with you..." I let out an amused chuckle. "You can keep dreaming about it." Ethan chuckled.

"Good thing we are on the same page; we should actually become friends, we have a lot in common." He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"We don't have a choice but to become friends; we'll be living in the same room for a long time after all." I said, and Ethan chuckled.

After a few minutes, Ethan drove up to a huge mansion, and the two of us stepped out of the car.

We stood before the mansion's moonlit ruins, shadows dancing across charred walls, darkness pulsing with forgotten secrets. It was hard to believe that this was once my home.

As we walked inside, everything was burnt to ashes; everything was beyond recognition. I exhaled deeply, deciding to do what I came here for.

I brought out my phone from my pocket and switched on the torch, and Ethan did the same. He followed me as I made my way to the basement.

As we reached there, I pushed the door open. It was kind of like the outer house of the mansion; it might be possible that the fire didn't reach here.

As we walked down the long stairs, heading down,

Ethan questioned, "Weren't you scared to come here alone?" I let out a sarcastic scoff.

"I'm coming back from the dead; that's the scariest experience ever. Now, I don't think anything can ever scare me." I said.

"Fair enough," Ethan replied.

We finally reached the bottom of the stairs; the place never caught fire. Everything was covered in webs and dust, but nothing was burned. I walked over to the huge library, where there was a small locker.

I pressed my grandma's date of birth on the button, and the library turned, revealing another room. Ethan and I walked inside.

As we entered, there was another door, and I pushed it open. A kaleidoscope of gold and gems dazzled me, radiating opulence. I knew my grandma was rich and all, but I never expected her to be this rich.

This was too good to be true. She never allowed anyone to enter the basement, but she had always told Anna and me that we were only allowed to enter here when we were desperate for money. I never actually thought I would ever be desperate for money, but now that I was here, I was beyond shocked.

"Wow." That was the only word that came out of my mouth. Everything was too good to be true; it felt like my grandmother knew Amanda and Victor would betray me and that I would need money.

"Seems like you're becoming rich again," Ethan said, bringing me back to reality.

"Amanda and Victor should count their days; they are numbered now," I muttered under my breath. "They will regret what they did to me, every single thing."

Ethan and I spent the whole day dividing everything into halves. This was for Anna and me, and it was only fair that I leave some things for her. There was also money in the safe, and I took half of it, leaving some for Anna.

By the time we finished, it was already midnight, and I was tired, maybe because I hadn't healed yet. But we finished and finally went back home.

I sat on the couch, resting my head against it, my legs on the coffee table, as I waited for Ethan to finish taking a shower.

Now that I had money, I needed many things. First, I needed a lawyer, opening bank accounts with my new identity card, and then I would get all my businesses back.

Then Victor and Amanda would face their doom. But first, I needed to deal with the goons and make sure the police wouldn't give Victor and Amanda peace of mind while I dealt with those goons. When I finished with the goons, I would deal with Amanda and Victor.

"You can go in," Ethan said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I rose off the couch, grabbing my nighties, and made my way to the bathroom.

Taking a quick shower, I stepped out of the bathroom and found Ethan sleeping on the couch, facing the ceiling.

"You know, instead of either of us sleeping on the couch, we should find a way to share the bed. I'm too little for such a huge bed alone," I said.

Ethan turned his attention to me as I walked over to the bed. I grabbed the pillow and divided the bed into two, putting the pillow in between.

"You can sleep on that side, and I'll sleep on the other side," I said. I wouldn't let the poor man suffer in his own room; he was helping me, after all.

"Do you snore?" Ethan questioned, and I threw him a glare.

"Of course, I don't snore. Why does he think I snore at all?"

"It's okay if you want to sleep on the couch, Ethan, but you can't ask me such a question," I retorted.

Ethan burst into laughter.

"Why get offended if you don't snore?" Ethan questioned.

I rolled my eyes, deciding to ignore him. I climbed into bed and covered myself with a sheet, leaving another one for him in case he changed his mind.

Ethan had saved my life; he stayed with me for three years. I trusted he wouldn't do anything to harm me; he was true to his intentions, which is why I was open with him.

I dozed into a deep slumber.

....

"She's all yours tonight; do everything you want with her," one of the goons said, and they all burst into laughter.

I couldn't move a muscle; my whole body was numb, in so much pain. I desperately wanted to do something, but I couldn't.

They all started walking towards me; their laughter filled the whole place, like a scary song from a horror movie.

"Please, please stop," I stammered, tears welling up in my eyes. One of the goons grabbed my face and ran a sharp knife against my skin; blood dripped from my face.

I screamed my lungs out; a sharp pain cut through my skin.

"Cynthia," I jerked into a sitting position, my heart racing against my chest, dread washing over me.

"Cynthia, are you okay?" I heard a voice but couldn't recognize it. All I could hear was the laughter… the kind of laughter that sent shivers down my spine.

I brought my hands to my ears, covering them, trying to stop the laughter, trying to stop the sound of the gunshot, but I couldn't.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Cynthia, are you okay?"

I clutched the sheets, moving back. All I could see was those goons.

"Stay away from me; stay away," I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

"Cynthia, it's me, Ethan. You know I won't harm you, right?" Ethan's voice rang in my ears, shutting out the sound of the laughter.

I moved to him and wrapped my arms around him, bursting into sobs.

I was having a nightmare, the most terrible nightmare ever.