**Fate’s Payback: Triumph Over Betrayal**
In the quiet town of Oakbridge, Liam froze in front of the window of an upscale restaurant, unable to believe his eyes.
*She couldn’t have changed this much!* he whispered, staring at his ex-wife. *No, that’s not Emily. There’s no way she’s transformed like this!*
The elegant woman with golden curls sat by the window, typing intently on her laptop. A waiter brought her a glass of fresh orange juice and a dessert garnished with berries.
*How did she become so… perfect? And that bracelet on her wrist—must cost a fortune!* Liam bit his lip and stepped back into the shadows, afraid she might spot him.
Five years ago, Liam and Emily had met. Liam, a young engineer, had just started working for a major construction firm in Oakbridge. His career was on the rise.
At a trade show for construction equipment, he spotted a shy girl behind a display stand.
*What are you doing surrounded by bulldozers? Let’s grab a coffee instead,* he grinned.
They chatted. Quiet, gentle Emily had instantly charmed him.
*This is the kind of wife I want,* he thought. *Obedient, never argues. She’ll make the perfect homemaker.*
*Sure, her figure’s not model material,* he mused, handing her the coffee. *But a gym membership will fix that. And if she gains weight after kids, I’ll just find a mistress.*
*So, what brought you to this exhibition?* he asked as they stepped outside.
*I write stories,* she admitted softly, her big hazel eyes meeting his. *I dream of being a screenwriter. Just graduated with a lit degree, freelancing to pay rent.*
*Perfect,* Liam thought. *No money, no connections. This little mouse can be molded into anything. She’ll cook, clean, raise kids, and obey me without question.*
He immediately launched into boasting about his career, describing how he’d soon be a top executive.
Now, Liam sipped bitter coffee from a kiosk across the restaurant, watching Emily like a hawk. When she stepped outside, his jaw dropped. Graceful stride, a sable fur coat, confident gaze… And when she slid into a gleaming sports car, he nearly choked.
*She couldn’t have changed this much!* he muttered. *Must’ve found a sugar daddy. No other explanation.*
He gulped the scalding coffee, crushing the cup in his fist. Emily sped off into the distance.
That night, Liam couldn’t sleep. After their divorce, Emily had blocked him everywhere. Desperate, he created a fake account to stalk her. Envy, fury, resentment consumed him. Half a bottle of whisky later, he scrolled through her photos: Emily in five-star hotels, designer handbags, glamorous gowns…
*Lost at least two stone! How? Plastic surgery? Personal trainer?* He gripped his phone so hard the screen cracked.
The next morning, hungover, he remembered a conversation with Emily.
*What’s this garbage? Who even reads this stuff?* he scoffed, skimming her latest short story.
*Different strokes…* she murmured. *I already have readers.*
*Readers?* Liam barked a laugh. *Sure, if they’ve got no taste, your scribbles might pass.*
*Liam, why do you do this?* Her voice trembled. *Two years together, and you belittle everything I love. I never mock your work, even when you’re buried in the office.*
*Exactly!* he snapped. *If you acted like a proper wife and helped me, I wouldn’t be stuck there so much.*
He leapt off the sofa.
*Enough nonsense, Emily. Starting tomorrow, no more silly stories. You’re helping me with work.*
*What do you mean—no more writing?* She paled by the window.
*That’s exactly what I mean!* he snapped. *Want to save our marriage? Ditch this rubbish and start being useful.*
*But this is my soul, my dream…* Tears streaked her cheeks.
*I don’t care!* he roared. *Your garbage means nothing. You’re nothing. Tomorrow, I set your tasks, and you obey.*
*I know nothing about engineering… Why take this from me?* she sniffled.
*Ungrateful!* he exploded. *I pay for everything—rent, gifts, holidays! Either help me or get out. Door’s that way!*
Emily stayed.
*Fine. If helping it is,* she whispered, wiping tears on her sleeve. She shut her laptop. From then on, Liam never saw her write again.
A year later, Liam struck gold. Sold his inherited flat, networked aggressively, launched his own firm. Emily worked tirelessly—drafting contracts, negotiating deals, organizing meetings.
Another year passed. He built a luxury estate, raking in millions. Their marriage suited him—except for Emily’s appearance. Stress led to binge-eating, and she gained weight.
*Embarrassing to be seen with this cow!* he complained to a mate over pints. *Wasn’t slim to begin with, now she’s revolting.*
*Yeah, not great,* his friend agreed, eyeing a photo.
*Time for an upgrade,* Liam decided, downloading a dating app. *Thought I’d get a mistress after kids, but can’t wait.*
Replacement came quickly. Olivia, a toned fitness instructor, agreed to be his new woman on their first date. Their affair ignited in a VIP lounge at Oakbridge’s trendiest club.
Olivia was demanding.
*You like my figure, don’t you?* she purred in their rented flat with a city view.
*Obviously,* Liam whispered, tracing her spine.
*For starters, two grand a month. Salon, skincare, gym…* Olivia listed, but Liam wasn’t listening, too busy admiring her.
Within weeks, Olivia eclipsed Emily. Liam barely came home, where his loyal wife still waited.
*Made your favorite—steak and mash,* Emily smiled when he returned from another “business trip.” *How was your day?*
*Fine,* he grunted, avoiding her gaze. *Not hungry. Let’s work. Any updates?*
Emily became his unpaid employee. He demanded more from her than anyone else, never appreciating her effort.
Soon, he couldn’t stand seeing her—even at work. His business faltered: deals collapsed, partners left. Maybe Olivia’s demands drained his funds, maybe he’d grown careless. Either way, Liam blamed Emily.
Their breakup was explosive. He divorced her, left her penniless, and kicked her out the same day.
Now, three years later, Liam couldn’t process what he was seeing…
*Photos say she lives in Riverview Manor,* he muttered in his kitchen. *Some rich bloke’s keeping her. Got a meeting nearby tomorrow—I’ll drop in. Something’s fishy. A mouse doesn’t turn into a swan!*
His phone buzzed. A message from Olivia, vacationing in Spain:
*Liam, we’re done. Met someone else. Nothing personal. My friend will collect my things.*
*With MY money?!* he howled, typing a rage-fuelled reply full of insults.
*Liam, you’re emotional,* Olivia voice-noted back. *Talk when you’ve calmed down. Blocking you for now—drama ruins my glow.*
She blocked him.
After an investor rejected him, a furious, bewildered Liam drove to Riverview. Chain-smoking in his car, he waited until Emily pulled up to her mansion in a sleek convertible.
*Liam? What are you doing here?* she asked, startled by his relentless calls.
*Just seeing how you landed on your feet,* he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
Emily tensed. Liam softened his tone:
*Actually, I came to apologize. Realized I was rotten to you…*
*Rotten?* She gave a bitter laugh. *You banned me from writing, worked me to the bone for free, cooked, cleaned, stood by you when everyone laughed. Then threw me out in a day.*
*Apology not accepted, Liam,* she added, arms crossed.
*At least let me inside? Awkward out here…* he muttered.
Eager to flaunt her success, Emily opened the gates.
*Bloody hell!* Liam greedily scanned the marble foyer. *Who’s funding this? Spill.*
*No one,* she said calmly, handing him water. *I bought it myself.*
*Liar!* he spat.
*Why do you think I couldn’t succeed?* She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
*But how… How’d you change like this? That body, this house…* He spun the glass nervously.
*Went back to scripts,* she smiled. *Wrote pilots for studios. They didn’t call it rubbish. Now my shows air on major networks. I’m one of the top screenwriters in the country.*
*You came to apologize,* she reminded him, sitting opposite.
Liam’s rage boiled over. Olivia’sAnd as the years passed, the only reminder of Liam in Emily’s life was the occasional tabloid headline about his failed ventures—while her name glittered on billboards, proving that the best revenge is a life well-lived.
