The rain battered the windows of Eva's apartment like a relentless drum, each drop a reminder of the storm raging inside her. She sat curled on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest, her raven hair plastered to her tear-streaked face. The dim glow of a single lamp cast long, jagged shadows across the room, mirroring the fractures in her heart. Twenty-four hours ago, her world had been whole—imperfect, but hers. Now, it lay in ruins, shattered by the two people she'd trusted most: Liam, her boyfriend of three years, and Sophia, her best friend since childhood.
Eva's phone lay beside her, its screen cracked from when she'd hurled it against the wall. The video was still paused on the frame that had gutted her: Liam and Sophia, tangled in each other's arms, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no room for doubt. She hadn't meant to find it. She'd borrowed Sophia's phone to check a restaurant's hours, only to stumble on a hidden folder labeled "Us." Curiosity had turned to dread as she opened it, revealing a video timestamped from last week. The thumbnail alone had made her stomach lurch—Sophia's blonde hair spilling over Liam's bare chest.
She'd played it, unable to stop herself, and now the images were burned into her mind. The sounds. Their words. Every second of that video was a blade, carving deeper into her soul.
Eva's breath hitched as she pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to block out the memory. But it was no use. The scene played on a loop in her head, vivid and merciless.
The Video
The footage had been shaky, clearly filmed on a phone propped against something—a nightstand, maybe. The room was dimly lit, but Eva recognized it instantly: Sophia's bedroom, with its fairy lights strung along the headboard and the velvet throw blanket Eva had helped her pick out last summer. The bed was a mess of sheets, and in the center of it were Liam and Sophia, their bodies entwined in a way that made Eva's heart stop.
Liam's hands roamed Sophia's bare back, his fingers digging into her skin as she straddled him. Her head was thrown back, her lips parted in a moan that echoed through the phone's speakers. The sound was raw, primal, and it hit Eva like a punch to the chest. She'd seen Liam like this before—passionate, hungry—but always with her. Never like this. Never with someone else.
"God, Soph, you're so fucking perfect," Liam growled, his voice low and rough. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements with a possessive intensity. "You feel so good. Better than anyone."
Sophia laughed, a sultry sound that dripped with confidence. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear. "Better than her, you mean?" she purred, her voice laced with venom. "Say it, Liam. Tell me I'm better than Eva."
Eva's breath had caught in her throat as she watched, her hands trembling. She wanted to stop the video, to fling the phone away, but she was frozen, paralyzed by the betrayal unfolding before her.
Liam's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dark. "You're so much fucking better," he said, his voice thick with desire. "She's nothing compared to you. Never was."
Sophia's laugh was triumphant, and she kissed him hard, her tongue sliding against his as their bodies moved together. "That's right," she whispered against his lips. "She's boring. Clueless. You deserve this, Liam. You deserve me."
He groaned, his hands sliding lower, pulling her closer. "Fuck, Soph, you're gonna make me lose it. Keep talking like that."
"Oh, I'm just getting started," she teased, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You like it when I'm bad, don't you? When I take what I want?" She rocked her hips, drawing a sharp hiss from him. "Tell me how much you want me. Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," Liam rasped, his voice raw with need. "All fucking yours. Always have been."
The words had hit Eva like a physical blow, each one a dagger twisting in her chest. She'd watched, numb, as their bodies moved faster, their moans growing louder, their dirty talk filthier. Sophia's taunts about Eva—calling her "pathetic," "oblivious," "a placeholder"—mingled with Liam's grunts of agreement, his declarations of how Sophia was everything Eva could never be. The video ended with them collapsing together, laughing breathlessly, their limbs tangled in a way that screamed intimacy, connection, love.
Eva's hands clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms until she felt the sting of blood. The pain was a welcome distraction, grounding her in the present, pulling her away from the abyss of that video. But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough to drown out the sound of Liam's voice, the way he'd said Sophia's name like it was a prayer. Or the way Sophia had laughed, so smug, so certain of her victory.
They'd been cheating for months, the video made that clear. Months of stolen moments, secret texts, and whispered promises behind Eva's back. And she'd been blind to it all. She'd trusted them, loved them, built her world around them. Liam, with his easy smile and promises of forever. Sophia, with her late-night confessions and fierce loyalty—or so Eva had thought. How had she been so stupid? How had she not seen the signs?
The memories flooded her now, each one a fresh wound. The times Liam had canceled plans, claiming work was crazy. The way Sophia had started pulling away, her hugs less warm, her texts less frequent. The glances they'd exchanged when they thought Eva wasn't looking—glances she'd dismissed as nothing. She'd been a fool, and they'd played her perfectly.
Eva's gaze drifted to the photo frame on the coffee table, one she hadn't yet smashed in her rage. It showed the three of them last summer, laughing on a beach at sunset. Eva's arms were around both Liam and Sophia, her smile wide and unguarded. She looked happy. Whole. The girl in that photo didn't exist anymore.
With a scream, Eva lunged for the frame and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, glass scattering like her broken dreams. She collapsed back to the floor, sobs wracking her body, her chest heaving with the weight of her grief. The rain outside roared louder, as if mocking her pain.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Why wasn't I enough?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the memories of Liam and Sophia's betrayal replayed in her mind. Their bodies, their words, their laughter—it was a symphony of cruelty, and Eva was its unwilling audience. She could still hear Sophia's taunts, could still see the way Liam's eyes had burned with desire for someone else. Someone who wasn't her.
But beneath the grief, something else was stirring. Something dark, sharp, and dangerous. Anger. No—rage. It coiled in her chest like a snake, hissing promises of retribution. They thought they could break her, humiliate her, and walk away unscathed? They were wrong. Eva wasn't the naive girl they'd mocked. Not anymore.
She wiped her tears, her jaw tightening as the first seeds of a plan took root. Liam had taken her heart and crushed it, but she'd take something from him too. Something he valued more than anything: his perfect life, his family, his future. And she knew exactly how to do it.
His father. Victor. The man Liam idolized, the patriarch who held their family's legacy in his iron grip. Eva had met him a handful of times—dinners at the family estate, charity galas where Liam had paraded her as his "good girl." Victor was older, commanding, with a presence that filled a room. His dark eyes had lingered on Eva more than once, a flicker of interest he hadn't bothered to hide. Liam had laughed it off, calling his dad a "charmer." But Eva had felt the weight of those gazes, the unspoken hunger in them.
She hadn't thought much of it then. She'd been loyal, devoted to Liam. But now? Now, Victor was a weapon. A way to destroy Liam from the inside out. If she could seduce him, pull him into her orbit, she'd have the power to unravel everything Liam held dear. And Sophia? Sophia would watch, helpless, as Eva turned their betrayal into her triumph.
The thought sent a shiver through her, not entirely unpleasant. It was twisted, wrong, but it felt right. For the first time since she'd seen that video, Eva felt a spark of control, of purpose. She wasn't just a victim. She was a storm waiting to break.
Eva rose to her feet, her legs shaky but her resolve ironclad. She crossed to the mirror above her dresser, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale, but there was a fire in her gaze now. A hunger. She wasn't the broken girl from an hour ago. She was something new—something dangerous.
"Liam," she whispered, her voice low and venomous. "Sophia. You're going to regret this."
She turned away from the mirror, her mind racing. She'd need a plan, a way to get close to Victor without raising suspicion. She'd need to be calculated, seductive, ruthless. And she'd need to bury her pain, lock it away where it couldn't weaken her. This wasn't about love anymore. It was about power. Revenge. And Eva was ready to play the game.
As the rain continued to pound against the windows, Eva's lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. The girl she'd been was gone, drowned in tears and betrayal. In her place was a woman forged in pain, ready to burn the world down to get what she wanted.
And she wanted blood.