The Vengeful Ex-Fiancée Returns Strong

On my birthday, I went to the resort I designed to tell my fiancé, Elias, that I was pregnant with his child.

Instead, I found him at the altar, marrying my stepsister in a ceremony officiated by my own mother.

When I confronted him, he laughed. "Pregnant? You're delusional, Aubrie. Kallie is dying, and you're here spreading malicious lies."

My entire family agreed. They called me a jealous monster.

During a wildfire at the resort, he shoved me to the ground to save her, breaking my leg and causing me to lose our baby. They left me there, alone and broken, convinced I was insane.

They thought they had destroyed me.

But from my hospital bed, I made a single phone call to my lawyer. I didn't just want to disappear from their lives-I wanted to erase them from the world. And I had the evidence to do it.

Chapter 1

Aubrie McCoy POV:

The air hung thick and heavy, like a shroud woven from humidity and the scent of unfamiliar jungle flowers. My lungs burned with every breath, a sharp contrast to the dull ache that had started deep in my gut hours ago. I stood hidden behind the ancient, gnarled roots of a banyan tree, the tropical heat pressing down on me.

Through a veil of leaves, I saw him. Elias.

He was there, at the altar, on the pristine white sand of the resort beach I had so meticulously designed. My resort. The one we were supposed to launch together.

But he wasn't standing alone.

Kallie Salas, my stepsister, was beside him. Her hand, delicate and pale, rested in his. They were performing a commitment ceremony, a local custom the resort staff had enthusiastically explained to me just yesterday. A fusion of ancient rites and modern vows.

Their eyes locked, a fierce, possessive gaze that made my blood run cold. Elias leaned in, his lips brushing Kallie' s cheek, then her forehead. The crowd, a sea of faces I recognized as our closest friends and family, erupted in cheers. My stomach twisted. The dull ache sharpened, a burning ember igniting into a full-blown inferno.

He held her hand, gently intertwining their fingers. He mouthed something I couldn't hear over the celebration, but her smile, radiant and fragile, told me it was something personal, something intimate. It went on and on, this public display of affection, each lingering touch a hammer blow to my chest. Kallie swayed slightly, a theatrical wobble designed to emphasize her supposed fragility. Elias steadied her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist.

Then, my mother, Donna McCoy, stepped forward. She was dressed in a flowing, cream-colored gown, a garland of local orchids around her neck. She looked like a high priestess of betrayal. I remember her telling me about this ceremony only last week, how special it was for our resort. Now, she was officiating their union. She smiled at Kallie, a loving, soft expression I hadn't seen directed at me in years.