STUCK WITH MY BEST-FREIND'S DAD (Revenge On My Cheating Ex-Husband)

VIONNE'S POV

I stood at the edge of our bedroom, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as I watched him. My heart was pounding, but not the way it used to when I looked at him.

Not with love or warmth or hope. This pounding felt heavy. Cold. Like every beat was trying to push the pain out of me.

Harrison Worthington. The man I once thought was my forever. The same man who was now zipping up his suitcase like he couldn't wait to leave.

My husband.

My soon-to-be ex-husband.

I didn't even feel like I was standing in my own body. I was watching this scene unfold like it was a movie, like someone else's life was falling apart. But the ache in my chest reminded me this was mine. Every second of it.

He didn't say a word as he folded his clothes neatly into the suitcase, each motion calm and calculated. There wasn't a single sign of regret or hesitation. Just cold, sharp silence.

The air between us felt suffocating.

"I loved you with everything I had," I said, my voice thick and bitter. It shook with the effort it took to keep myself together. I barely recognized the sound. It was cracked, broken. Tired. "But you betrayed me. You cheated on me-with her? With Nora?"

I didn't mean to say her name with so much disgust, but I couldn't help it. My stepsister. The woman who had once shared birthday cakes and Christmas dinners with me. The one who stood beside me at my wedding and toasted to our love.

Now she was the reason my marriage was ending.

He still didn't look at me. His hands moved like machines, folding one shirt after another, placing them inside the suitcase with perfect precision. As if my entire world wasn't falling apart just two feet away from him.

"You should sign the papers, Vionne ," he said finally. His voice was cold. Lifeless. "I left them on the bed."

I turned my eyes to the manila envelope resting on the perfectly made bed. I hadn't even noticed it there before. The words DIVORCE AGREEMENT were stamped on it like a death sentence.

"I've made my decision," he added, adjusting the collar of a shirt before tucking it in. "Nora is the one I want. She makes me feel alive again."

His words hit harder than I expected. Like someone yanked the ground from beneath me. My knees wobbled, and I grabbed the edge of the dresser to keep from collapsing.

He chose her. Not me. Not the woman he vowed to love and protect.

My throat tightened, my vision blurred, but I refused to cry in front of him. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"You're in love with my stepsister?" I whispered. The words tasted like ash.

That's when he finally looked at me.

And what I saw in his eyes chilled me to the bone.

Nothing.

No sadness. No guilt. Not even anger.