The Billionaire's Revenge She Made Him Lose Everything

The last candle flickered out.

"So," Lucas asked, his voice low and smooth. "What wish did you make?"

Under the warm glow of the chandelier, Lucas Delgado looked just as he always had—handsome, composed, his eyes holding a deceptive gentleness.

"Lucas."

I offered a faint smile, reached into the drawer, and pulled out the document I'd prepared days ago. I slid it across the table until it rested beside his wine glass.

"Let's get a divorce."

——

The smile froze on his face.

Silence stretched between us. After a few seconds, the tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by familiar, chilling contempt. He swept a glance over the papers.

"Alex," he sighed, sounding bored. "What kind of tantrum is this?"

He picked up the agreement, his demeanor shifting to cold arrogance.

"Back then, you were the one who screamed and cried, refusing to leave. You threatened suicide just to stay married to me. Now you're playing hard to get?"

"Lucas—"

Click.

His lighter cut me off.

The flame danced in his pitch-black eyes. I watched, unmoving, as he touched fire to the corner of the document.

"You think a piece of paper scares me?" He tossed the burning pages into the ashtray. "You think this little stunt will make me bow down?"

Smoke curled upward, carrying the scent of burning ink.

Lucas rounded the table. Before I could react, his hand clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up, his grip bruising.

"Or is it something else?" He leaned in, breath hot against my ear. "Has it been too long, Alex? Starved for attention?"

His tone was frivolous, insulting. His free hand slid over the curve of my waist.

A shiver ran through me—not pleasure. Revulsion.

His touch triggered a memory, sharp and agonizing. The mistress he kept in luxury. The day I'd finally snapped.

The day I learned exactly what I was worth to him.

I'd stood in the center of our living room, tears streaming, pointing at the girl on the sofa. She looked barely out of college—fresh, innocent, everything I no longer was.

"What did I do wrong?" I'd screamed. "You have to sneak around with her?"

I'd collapsed to my knees.

"I've been with you since I was sixteen, Lucas! I followed you when you had nothing. We lived in a basement! We built this empire together!" My voice cracked. "And now you're throwing me away for this?"

Desperate. Broken. Pleading for a shred of humanity.

Lucas's stare held nothing but ice.

"Did I beg you to follow me at sixteen?"

He stepped closer, looking down at me like something stuck to his shoe.

"Did I ask for your charity? No. You had no shame. You clung to me like a parasite." He scoffed. "What decent girl runs off with a man at sixteen? You were loose. Desperate."

"Disgusting."

The words scraped against my bones. I lunged at him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to die with him—but he caught my wrist and shoved me to the floor.

"Big sister."

Yara Chavez stood up, looking down from the safety of Lucas's side, a cruel smirk on her lips.

"If I were you," she drawled, "I'd find a quiet place and end it all."

Her laughter rang out, high and mocking. "To be despised by your own husband like this... how much of a failure are you?"

She hooked her arm through Lucas's, pouting up at him. "Honey, how did I not notice your bad taste before? Such an old hag... how did you ever stomach her?"

Lucas didn't defend me. Didn't even look away.

"Yeah," he murmured, eyes cold as they bored into mine. "How did I ever stomach her?"

Now, back in the dining room, the memory faded. The nausea didn't.

I felt Lucas's fingers slide under the hem of my dress, presumptuous, demanding. He was about to probe further, assuming I was still the same pathetic woman who'd accept his scraps.

Goosebumps erupted across my skin. My stomach churned, acid rising. I didn't even have time to turn away.

I retched. All over him.

Lucas froze.

He looked down at his ruined bespoke suit, face twisting from shock to pure fury. His hand recoiled like he'd been burned.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Seeing the disgust on his face, I felt no shame.

Only satisfaction.

For the first time in years, I threw my head back and laughed.