The morning after the wedding, the city buzzed like a disturbed hive. My phone wouldn't stop vibrating—messages, notifications, social media alerts, endless news articles.
"Shen Liya stuns at Xu Rou's wedding!"
"CEO Lu Shiyuan weds abandoned bride!"
"Ex-groom Xu Zeyan humiliated in public!"
I scrolled through my phone, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. That humiliation, once meant for me, had been expertly redirected. And it tasted sweeter than I had imagined.
Beside me, Lu Shiyuan poured coffee into a pristine white cup, his dark eyes following every movement I made. He looked effortless, calm, untouchable, as though orchestrating this entire spectacle were child's play.
"You're enjoying this," I said, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked, the kind of smile that made my stomach twist—not fear, not lust, not entirely—but a mixture that left me dizzy. "I enjoy watching someone finally realize their position in the world isn't fixed. And neither is their fear."
I sipped the coffee, feeling its warmth seep through me, and thought of Xu Zeyan. The man who once held my heart like a fragile trinket, now shattered, confused, and humiliated. I had only one word for him: too late.
By noon, my family's villa had become a war zone of whispers and tension. My father's face was red, his eyes flicking nervously to his phone every few seconds. Rou sat stiffly at the dining table, her hand trembling as she scrolled through news feeds.
"She… she's married to him?" my stepmother finally managed to choke out.
"Yes," I said calmly, my voice smooth, deliberate. I leaned against the doorway, my scarlet dress catching the sunlight, my hair perfectly styled, diamonds glinting at my ears. "And she—excuse me—I am his wife now."
Rou's gasp was audible across the room. My father's hand clenched the edge of the table. For the first time, I felt no fear. Only satisfaction.
"You can't… You can't do this!" Rou shrieked, her voice breaking.
I stepped closer, calm, predatory. "Do what, exactly? Marry the man you wanted? You should've thought of that before you schemed to replace me."
Her lips quivered. "But… he promised me—"
"Promises are cheap," I said. "Actions speak louder. And look around, Rou. You've lost the spotlight."
My father finally spoke, his voice trembling with barely controlled fury. "Liya… you're still family! Don't push things too far!"
I met his gaze, unflinching. "Family?" I asked softly, my voice like ice. "The family that threw me out, that celebrated my humiliation? I am done with that word. From now on, I answer only to myself."
His face paled. My stepmother looked like she might faint. Rou's eyes were wide with disbelief, as if the world had shifted beneath her feet.
Later, Lu Shiyuan arrived at the villa, sleek and unbothered, as though he had been expecting this chaos. He greeted my father with a polite nod and ignored my stepmother entirely. His gaze, however, found me immediately, warm but loaded with silent warning.
"You handled that beautifully," he murmured as he guided me to the balcony. The city spread out beneath us, glittering, sprawling, indifferent to our personal vendettas.
I rested my hand in his. "I've never felt more powerful… or more alive."
He smiled. "Good. That's the first step. Now comes the harder part—making sure they understand that you are untouchable."
I looked at him, curiosity piqued. "And how do we do that?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted my chin, his thumb brushing my cheek, dangerous and possessive. "Watch, listen, learn. The world reacts to fear… and desire. You'll need both."
His touch lingered, faintly warming my skin, leaving a flutter I hadn't expected. I blinked and tore my eyes away. This wasn't about desire. This was about power.
Meanwhile, news of our wedding exploded online. Photographs of me in the scarlet gown, standing proudly beside Shiyuan while Xu Zeyan cowered in the background, were shared across every social media platform. The comments section was a battlefield:
"She's glowing… finally standing up for herself!"
"Poor Xu Zeyan… he deserved it."
"Shen Liya just became the ultimate face-slap queen."
I laughed softly, leaning against Shiyuan, feeling a thrill I hadn't expected. Revenge wasn't just sweet—it was intoxicating.
That evening, Zeyan called.
I didn't answer.
He texted.
"Liya… please… don't do this. I can explain."
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the delete button. I could feel my chest tighten, but I didn't feel the old pull of love—only the sharp, delicious satisfaction of power reversed.
Instead, I sent a single reply:
"Explain? You've already explained. You chose her over me. And now you're irrelevant."
The ping of his phone sounded like a gunshot in my mind.
Later that night, I sat in the office of Shiyuan's penthouse, the city lights stretching endlessly below us. He had me sit behind the large, gleaming desk, gesturing for me to observe.
"Consider this your first lesson in public power," he said. "Your enemies are like chess pieces. Watch how they move, anticipate their panic, and strike when it matters most."
I leaned forward, taking in every detail. He poured me a glass of red wine, his hand brushing mine, warm, possessive, intimate.
"Do you… do you want me to participate in this?" I asked cautiously.
He met my gaze, eyes burning. "No. I want you to lead. I'll back you, but this is your story now. Make them fear it."
A thrill ran through me. This was no longer just revenge—it was reclamation.
The next morning, news broke that Xu Zeyan had publicly humiliated himself in an interview, pleading with reporters to clarify that Shen Liya was "misunderstanding everything." The video clip went viral, earning millions of views.
I watched it with Shiyuan, his arm resting possessively on my chair.
"You see," he said softly, "he's groveling. Just like you imagined."
I smiled faintly, savoring the image of my ex reduced to desperate apologies, of Rou trembling beside him, realizing the tables had turned.
"Isn't this… cruel?" I asked, almost whispering.
Shiyuan's smile was half teasing, half warning. "No. It's justice. And tonight, we continue."
I felt a shiver run through me—not from fear, but excitement. My heart raced at the thought of the battles ahead, the power I could wield, the humiliation I could deliver. And for the first time, I didn't feel small or powerless.
The storm of scandal, humiliation, and public intrigue had only just begun.