04: Revenge Part 01

If I were going to cheat on Gabriel, the other man had to be… well, better. Not just a little better, not just different. He had to be a celestial being compared to Gabriel’s mere mortal. More handsome, undeniably sexier, taller, more successful, possessing an aura that made Gabriel look like a flickering candle next to a supernova. It was a ludicrous, almost impossible standard. And yet, as I swirled the lukewarm remains of my wine, one name echoed in my mind, a name that somehow, impossibly, met every single ridiculous criterion: Tony Stark. Of course, sleeping with Tony Stark was about as likely as winning the lottery while simultaneously being struck by lightning. But that was the level of… upgrade I was talking about. Anything less felt like a downgrade, a lateral move at best. And after what Gabriel had done, a lateral move was unacceptable.

The betrayal still stung, a raw, throbbing wound beneath the surface of my carefully constructed composure. I needed support, advice– a sounding board. I reached for my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the familiar name: Emma. I tapped the icon and held the phone to my ear.

“Emma, hey, it’s Ava.”

“Hey, sweetie, I’m actually with a client right now. Can I call you back in…?”

“No, Emma, you need to hear this,” I interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. “Gabriel cheated on me.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Oh my god, Ava. I’m on my way. Be at my place in fifteen.”

Emma’s reaction wasn’t surprising. Our bond went beyond typical friendship. Emma’s father had been my legal guardian since I was thirteen. They hadn’t adopted me from the orphanage, not in the traditional sense. They had simply… taken me in. Offered me a life I hadn’t dared dream of. And Emma, well, Emma was more than a best friend; she was family.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Emma’s house. “House” felt like an understatement. It was a sprawling mansion nestled in the most exclusive part of the neighborhood, a testament to Emma’s success as a high-profile architect. The sleek, modern design, all glass, and polished concrete, seemed to scream wealth and sophistication. Inside, the opulence continued. Soaring ceilings, designer furniture, and original artwork adorned the spacious rooms. Emma, clearly having pulled out all the stops in the face of my heartbreak, had transformed the living room into a shrine to emotional recovery. Junk food mountains rose from the coffee table, bags of candy overflowed from bowls, and bottles of wine stood ready for uncorking.

“Seriously, Ava,” Emma exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have… I don’t even know what I would have done, but I would have done something.”

I shrugged, sinking into the plush sofa. “I don’t know. I was… processing, I guess. Or trying to be.”

As the wine flowed and the junk food disappeared, the two of us talked. Emma was shocked, then furious, then supportive. After a few glasses, the conversation inevitably turned to revenge. And that’s when Liam Moran’s name came up.

“Liam Moran?” Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That Liam Moran?” Emma had once tried, and failed spectacularly, to snag a date with the elusive Mr. Moran. He was Gabriel’s “best friend,” though the air quotes were heavily implied. Gabriel had always been strangely jealous of Liam, warning me to stay away from him.

“He’s perfect,” I declared, a wicked glint in my eyes. “He’s everything Gabriel isn’t. And he’s… well, he’s Liam Moran.”

“But he’s practically untouchable,” Emma protested. “He’s got a reputation. A playboy reputation.”

“Exactly,” I said, a dangerous smile playing on my lips. “That’s what makes him so perfect.”

The idea, however ludicrous, began to take shape. Liam was the ultimate revenge fantasy. But could I actually do it? Could I stoop to Gabriel’s level?

Fortified by another swig of liquid courage, I pulled out my phone and composed a text to Liam. To my surprise, he responded almost immediately. I, emboldened by the quick reply, typed back, “Want to get a hotel room tonight?”

A few agonizing minutes ticked by, my heart hammering in my chest. Finally, a response: “I don’t sleep with my friend’s girls.”

A sly smile spread across my lips as my fingers flew across the keyboard. “He won’t be my boyfriend for long.”

Silence. Liam didn’t respond.

Giving up on the Liam plan for the moment, I texted Gabriel that I was staying the night at Emma’s and threw my phone over to the side, not caring if he replied back. Emma and I stayed up late, watching bad movies, devouring the remaining junk food, and dissecting the male population.

Three long, agonizing days passed. Three days of lies, betrayals, and the constant, gnawing ache of hurt before I received an unexpected text message. It was Liam. He wanted me to meet him. At his house.

I stared at the message, my heart sinking. The reality of what I was considering hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never done anything like this before. It felt… dirty. Underhanded. But then again, so was what Gabriel had done. And hadn’t he been doing it for who knew how long?

With renewed determination, I texted Gabriel, feigning nonchalance. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Working late,” he replied, the lie so transparent it was almost comical. He was going to be with her. His mistress.

My resolve hardened as I texted Liam back. “I’ll be there by eight.”

Before heading to Liam’s, I made a stop at Emma’s. Emma, ever the supportive friend, greeted me with a mischievous grin and a bag full of “intimate” clothing. She then proceeded to work her magic on my auburn hair and makeup, transforming me into a vision of seductive confidence. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a bit much. Was this really necessary? Did I need to go to these lengths? All I wanted was to do the deed, get it over with, and move on. This was to be nothing more than a one-night stand. What did Emma think this was? But as I looked at my reflection, a flicker of something else ignited within me. Something beyond simple revenge. Something… exhilarating.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the upscale neighborhood. Liam’s house loomed before me, even more imposing, and more… luxurious than Emma’s. It was a monument to wealth, a sleek, modern structure that whispered of exclusivity and secrets. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the doorbell.