Chapter 13 Chapter 13

Chapter 13 Chapter 13


Sandra's POV

I was never that normal girl any man could ruin. I was always, always more than that. Men like Dylan and Luis, they operate with a certain playbook, one written for ordinary women with ordinary hearts. My heart was forged in something else entirely—something colder and far more durable.

The shock on Dylan’s face when he saw my family standing there was a delicious appetizer, a mere hint of the feast of consequences to come. His jaw had actually gone slack, his cool composure cracking for one beautiful, revealing second.

You see, I didn't just haul my siblings and my father across the ocean for a simple introduction. That would be a pitiful reason for such a monumental trip. I brought them here for a purpose, one that runs much deeper than family pleasantries. They were my chess pieces, moved into position for a game he doesn't even know we're playing.

They say revenge is a dish best served hot, with the steam of fresh anger. But I’ve taken that saying back to the kitchen. In my world, after everything I've endured, revenge is best served cold. Iced over. So cold it burns to the touch. Luis thought he could take me for granted, that I was just a little girl who would absorb his betrayals without a sound. He saw my silence as weakness, my love as simplicity. That was his first, and most catastrophic, miscalculation. I was never the kind of person you could play with. I was so much bigger and better than that. I am Sandra, the true heiress to the Collins wealth, the daughter cherished and protected by an entire dynasty.

This morning, I walked downstairs to the sound of their laughter. My father, my brother Daniel, my sister—all were gathered in the sitting room, with Delaney chatting happily in their midst. The scene was so warm, so normal. It was a shield. As soon as they spotted me, Daniel stood up, his familiar, easy grin in place. "Hey, Sandra, you're up already."

I offered a nod and a soft smile, a perfect mask of calm, before gliding toward the kitchen. I moved through the motions of preparing breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast, fresh coffee—a domestic goddess hiding a wolf’s heart. I served each of them with that serene smile plastered on my face, wanting them to have this one last, peaceful moment of blissful ignorance. I wanted them to enjoy the sweetness of our reunion before I unveiled the bitter poison I had in mind.

Yes, family is everything. But my plan for Luis is something else entirely. It’s about giving him a mirror of his own cruelty. It’s about returning every single pain, every tear, every moment of humiliation he ever caused me, and this time, I’m charging interest. I don’t care about his feelings anymore. I don’t care if it breaks him. He needs to understand that some fires, once started, cannot be put out.

Sitting there, watching them eat, I could physically feel the transformation happening inside me. The soft-hearted girl who believed in fairy tales was being locked away in a deep, dark dungeon. In her place, a strong-hearted queen was ascending to the throne, a ruler who wouldn't take shit from anybody, least of all a man who betrayed her.

They say love is blind. Well, I'm rewriting that phrase starting today. Love isn't blind; it just chooses to look away. But when it finally opens its eyes, it can see perfectly well—every flaw, every lie, every single crack in the facade.

After breakfast, I retreated to my room. I didn't just get dressed; I armed myself. I chose an outfit that was impeccable and severe, a uniform for the war I was about to wage. I pulled my hair back into a tight, unforgiving ponytail that sharpened my features and left no room for softness. When I walked back down, the sitting room was empty, the cheerful echoes of my family gone. Good. I slipped out of the house, a ghost in my own life, and got into my car.

I drove through the city, my eyes scanning, searching through the corners and shadows of this town for the right tool, the right weapon. I needed someone who could operate in the dark, someone my brother would never think to associate with me. I couldn't just lay my problems at Daniel's feet without having a concrete, brutal backup plan already in motion.

And finally, I found him. His name is Saphriel. He’s tall, yes, and formidable in a way that makes people instinctively cross the street. But his reputation is what truly precedes him. They say he’s worse than the devil, because at least the devil has a certain code. Saphriel, they whisper, has none. He's the most dangerous man in the entire city, a silent architect of ruin for men and women of all calibers who come to him for information and for revenge plans that actually work.

Our meeting was set in one of the most opulent restaurants in town, a place of crystal and linen, now empty and reserved just for us. The silence was heavier than any noise.

“What is his name?" he asked, his voice low, his expression a stone mask, completely unreadable.

I didn't flinch. I met his gaze with my own, pouring every ounce of my newfound strength into it—the look of a female alpha, a queen, not some weak woman seeking help. “Luis," I replied, my voice not just steady, but sharp as a blade.

I reached into my pocket, the movement slow and deliberate, and pulled out the small, damning photograph. I slid it across the polished tabletop. His fingers, long and elegant, picked it up. He studied it, not for a second, but for a solid thirty, his eyes missing nothing. "He looks familiar."

I gave a single, slow nod. "Yes, he does. He's one of the so-called 'eye men' in this city." A pillar of the community, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Then, he did something unexpected. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips—the first he had offered me. It wasn't warm; it was a spark of recognition. I returned the expression, a mirror of cold amusement. Then I leaned forward, closing the space between us until our breath mingled over the table. I let the words out in a low, conspiratorial whisper, like a naughty mafia princess who knew her own power. "How much to complete the deal?"

He let out a soft, almost bored sigh, his dark eyes locking with mine, eyeball to eyeball. "It costs a little… $100,000."

I leaned back, a real smile gracing my lips this time. It was less than I had expected to seal my odious plan. Peanuts, for the price of a man's soul. I looked back at him, my decision final. "Then let this deal begin. Cash or transfer?"

He smiled again, a predator appreciating a fellow predator. "I don't do transfers. Only cash. It prevents… exposure."

I nodded. It was a very good point. Standing up, I felt a new power surging through me. I took three precise steps away, then turned my back to him, a gesture of ultimate confidence, or perhaps recklessness. "Tomorrow. Same time, same place."

When I returned home, the silence was deafening. Still no one was there. I retreated into my room, the adrenaline beginning to fade, and sat on the edge of my bed, my mind racing. I let my thoughts wander, tracing the path that led me here. I couldn't believe I had reached this point in my life, a point where I was coolly planning the absolute ruin of Luis, a man I once loved. I was planning to drag him down from his high position, to destroy him and the mistress he so proudly flaunted. He had looked at me and seen a weak female, a stepping stone. Now, I had to prove to him, and to the entire world, that no woman is little. I wasn't shouting feminist slogans from the rooftops, but I would make him the living example of what happens when you shatter the wrong heart.

I spent years under his thumb. Years of crying and weeping in the dark, all while I had turned my back on the immense wealth and luxury that was my birthright. I thought I had finally found a love that was real, that was raw and true. But it was the exact opposite—a beautifully wrapped box full of lies.

After my mother's death, I was a shell, convinced I could never be loved again. Then, I saw Luis. He was the sun after a long winter, and I, a foolish flower, turned my face toward him without a second thought. I thought I had finally felt what love was. I didn't know that betrayal was the guest of honor at his table. He used me until I was hollow, and then he dumped me like I was normal trash. As if it was just a normal thing men do. But I will prove to him that it is not.

Don't you ever, ever joke with an angry woman when it comes to love.

The thought was still echoing in the silent room when the door suddenly burst open, shattering the quiet. It was my brother, Daniel, his face a storm cloud, his eyes blazing with a mix of worry and fury.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice filling the entire space, a stark contrast to the whispered deals I had just sealed.