They both left, of course. Whispering about my "breakdown." About needing to "call the doctor again." But this wasn't their Allesha anymore. That is how they've always done it. They kept acting like there was something wrong with her and not them.
I wasn't going to hide in my bedroom and cry into pillows and question if I really did. She always buried herself inside the room while isolating herself from the word that's why no one can tell her otherwise.
I'm gonna do what Allesha failed to do.
I was going to make a list.
First,I needed to know everything Allesha had lost. Her finances. Her legal position. Her family. Or if she completely dependent on Damien? I needed to plan accordingly. If she doesn't have a considerable wealth in her name, a revenge after divorce is gonna be practically impossible.
Second, I needed allies. People they didn't expect me to reach out to. People who might hate Damien and Margot enough to help. I may not like to admit it but money is power. It's true even in my previous world and Damien is not an ordinary CEO but a very distinguished one.
Third, I needed to learn this world. It wasn't my palace, it wasn't my time. But power was power. Whether you wore armor or heels. Allesha has been locked up inside her room and her memories doesn't mean much.
I dug through her things until I stumbled across the drawer in her old vanity mirror who looks like it had withstood the test of time.
Inside I found Allesha's laptop. It was strange how I know exactly what it is as soon as I lay my eyes on it.
I sat down, still in my soaked clothes, and powered it on.
The password?
I typed: IloveDamien againts my will.
Access granted.
Pathetic.
I started reading her emails, her messages, her bank statements. Each one like blocks of bricks falling into my back.
Her name was on nothing. She co-founded his company and retain none of her share.
Everything—all the money, the house, even her car who she hasn't use in decades—was in his name. They had married under a prenup. She had no job. No assets. No family nearby. This woman was entirely, utterly alone.
No. She was designed to be alone. It was a carefully curated trap to drive her on edge.
Just like me, before.
They carefully planned it to the point she walked into it willingly.
"You fools," I whispered. "You really thought this would be your clean escape?"
Not anymore.
A new thought struck me. If Damien and Margot had planned to drive Allesha to suicide... maybe they'd even manipulated doctors into declaring her mentally unstable, if I remember right she has been drinking a lot of prescription medication. I needed to know how deep the manipulation ran. Maybe they'd even planned to commit her after her "episodes" got worse.
I pulled out one of her old doctors appointments file.
Hysteria.
I can't help but chuckle. If they wanted a mad woman... they would get one. But not in the way they expected.
The next day, I cleaned myself up. Put on the brightest red lipstick Allesha owned. I wore her most elegant dress though it was an old dress she never had a chance to wear. I walked into the kitchen like a queen.
Damien was drinking his usual coffee. Margot was there again, pretending to be a guest. A guest so early in the morning, what a jester.
The maid was glaring at me from the sink, a fresh bruise on her cheek. I smirked at her, her face turning into tomato.
"Morning," I chirped, cheerful and cold. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything yesterday." I gaze upon the cup of coffee in their table.
"Too bad I don't drink coffee. I would've like to join you, do we have a tea?"
Damien stiffened. "Allesha, we need to talk—"
"Oh, we will," I cut in. "Over lunch. I'm booking us a table. Somewhere public. Let's have a date, shall we? It's been so long."
Margot raised a brow. "You're not seriously going out in public with him looking like that?"
"I am," I said. "Since when do you have a say to what I'll wear. Don't forget, I'm still Damien's wife. And if we're seen together, people will remember that. Don't you think?" I took a bite of a sandwich lying on a plate. "And it's OUR date? What's that got to do with you?"
Margot scowled. Damien didn't answer.
I walked over and kissed him on the cheek.
He flinched.
"I'll see you at one," I whispered. "Wear something that hides bruises."
Then I turned to Margot.
"And you might want to avoid me for a while. I don't have self-control anymore. Hysteria, remember?"
I left them. I could practically feel the hot air coming out of Margot's ear. The best way to make her feel like a total shit was for me to refused to acknowledge her as Damien's lover. A mistress is a mistress. What can she do? I'm the legal wife.
As I walked outside into the bright sunlight, I pulled out Allesha's phone and opened her social media accounts.
I posted a photo of me smiling. With the caption:
> "Beautiful days are ahead. I've already survived worse."
Within minutes, comments started pouring in.
Old friends, asking how am I.
Strangers reminding me how inactive I've been.
And some pointing out how much weight I've lost.
I had no idea Allesha was famous like that. I can't believe Damien hid a woman like this away from the world. I scrolled through my old post. Allesha's old modeling gigs. Her most recent posted about 2 years ago.
Then one name pop out against thousands others that reacted in my post. Lucien Vale? Why is that name strangely familiar?
Nevermind that, Esther was back. And I'm here to fuck everybody up.
I was happily striding on my way when I finally realized something that made me stop on my tracks. Damien didn't give me any pocket money, and I haven't had a bite of food aside from that one bite of sandwich.
Wife of a millionaire and not a penny on my name. This is so freaking pathetic.
Then an idea came to mind, my lips curved into a mischievous smile. I'll make sure he'll have no choice but the give me that allowance.