Chapter 158 Revenge

Chapter 158 Revenge
Zara’s POV

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the beeping of the machines.

Slow and annoying at the same time.

My head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to it. I blinked against the harsh hospital lights, squinting until the room sharpened into focus.

Hospital. Again.

I swallowed, my throat dry and raw, and scanned the room.

No Sarah.

No Aaron.

Good.

Only one of the house staff stood awkwardly by the window, I couldn’t really tell what she was up to.

The moment she saw me awake, her face flooded with relief. “Ma’am! Thank God you’re okay. We were all so worried—”

I cut her off sharply. “Apart from you, is anyone else here?”

She blinked. “No, ma’am.”

A slow, satisfied smile curved my lips. Perfect.
The woman hesitated, then rushed on. “We were all so scared—”

“Oh, please.” I leaned back against the pillows, careful of the dull ache in my body. “Can we drop the act?”

Her lips parted in surprise.

I tilted my head. “Of course nothing happened to me. This was a plan.”

Her eyes widened.

“Our plan,” I corrected.

She glanced nervously toward the door before stepping closer. “Yes, ma’am… and it’s working.”

I straightened slightly. “How?”

She swallowed. “The news spread fast. People outside the hospital are already talking.”

My smile deepened. “How bad?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “People were shouting. Mostly at Miss Sarah… but at Mr. Aaron too.”

My smile vanished. “What?”

“They’re saying they cheated,” she continued quickly. “That Miss Sarah ruined your marriage and—”

“No.” The word came out ice-cold. I sat up straighter, ignoring the protest in my muscles. “No, no, no. That wasn’t the plan.”

My fingers twisted the bedsheet. “Sarah was supposed to suffer. Sarah was supposed to be the one everyone hated. Not Aaron.”

The woman lowered her gaze. “Sorry, ma’am, but Aaron also hurt you.”

I rolled my eyes, my voice stern. “I didn’t ask for your opinion Rita.”

Silence fell.

“Give me my phone.”

She hurried to hand it over. The moment it was in my grasp, I unlocked it and immediately dived into the internet. Videos. Photos. Breaking headlines. Comments flooding every post.

I watched clip after clip of Sarah outside the hospital—overwhelmed, scared, broken. A dark satisfaction bloomed in my chest.

Finally, there it was. The tiny, vicious smile I couldn’t suppress. Now she knew. Now she understood what it felt like.

“I told her,” I whispered. “I told her I would ruin her.”

The staff member shifted uneasily. “Ma’am… Miss Sarah was really worried about you. She cried. She stayed the whole time, saying she didn’t want to lose you.”

I laughed, sharp and bitter. “You don’t know Sarah. That’s just who she is—always playing the saint. Kind. Gullible. Perfect.”

My smile faded. Perfect Sarah. Dad’s daughter. Aaron’s favorite. Even when she destroyed everything, she still had two people by her side who loved her.

But here I was, struggling to be seen, struggling to be loved. Was I really asking for too much? Was it too much to want someone to choose me for once?
“Stop talking about her,” I said coldly.

The woman lowered her head. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“ Just get out.”

She turned toward the door.

“Wait.” C

She froze.

“My mom,” I said, the words slower this time. “Where is she?”

She hesitated. “We’ve tried calling her. She’s not answering.”

Unease twisted in my chest. That wasn’t like Mom—especially not now, not after Dad.

“She’s fine,” I muttered, pushing the worry down. “She’s just being dramatic.”

Still… Why wasn’t she here? Mom always came.
I stared at my phone, hesitating before dialing her number. It rang. And rang but no answer from her.

I tried again. Voicemail.

Something felt wrong, but pride kept me from calling a third time. Whatever. She was probably crying somewhere. That was her business.

I tossed the phone onto my lap. “God,” I muttered to myself. “I really am wicked, aren’t I?”

But what choice did I have?

Sarah thought she could betray me? Sleep with my husband? Carry his child? Smile in my face while stealing everything?

No.

She started this war. I was simply finishing it.

“You took everything from me,” I whispered, voice cracking despite myself. “You took Dad.” The memory hit hard—him gone, and even in death, somehow still choosing her. “You took Aaron. You took my marriage.” Tears burned my eyes. “And the baby.”

That wound cut deepest. Why did Sarah get to carry Aaron’s child? Why did life always hand her the happy ending while I got scraps?

I looked down at my trembling hands and clenched them into fists.

“No,” I whispered fiercely. “She doesn’t get to win. Not this time.”

I wiped my eyes quickly and glanced at the IV in my arm. Annoyance flared. I yanked the tape loose, ignoring the sting, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m tired of this.”

I grabbed my phone again and opened my social media. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, then began typing.

Too many painful things happening in my life right now. Betrayal cuts deepest when it comes from family. I’m heartbroken, but trying to stay strong. Please keep me in your prayers.

I stared at the words. It was the perfect write up to get the attention of my followers and people out there in the world.

I hit post.

Notifications exploded instantly. Waves of support. Love. Sympathy. And pure hatred aimed straight at Sarah.

Exactly what I wanted.

I leaned back against the pillows, a faint smile playing on my lips.

“Game on, little sister.”

Outside, thunder rumbled softly in the distance.

And for the first time in days, I slept.