REVENGE AFTER REBIRTH

Vordon Joel ruled Cruiser City with an iron grip. His name alone commanded respect or fear. Meanwhile, at the city hospital, Dr. Kenny’s hands shook violently as he stared at his phone. He had dialed the number three times already, each attempt ending in silence or a busy tone. Finally, on the fourth try, a cold voice answered. “Sir… she’s losing a lot of blood,” Dr. Kenny stammered, his voice cracking. “We’ve run out of the necessary supplies. Please, if you can, come just see her one last time.”

There was a pause. Then the voice, icy and detached, cut through him. “She’s not dead yet? Call me when she is.” The line went dead.

Dr. Kenny’s hands fell to his sides. He could barely breathe. In the quiet of the hospital room, Veronica lay on the bed, her body fragile and battered. Machines beeped frantically, a harsh reminder that life was slipping through her fingers. She could feel the cold creeping into her bones, the despair settling in her chest. She had sacrificed everything: her family, her pride, her very self for him. And now, even in her final moments, Vordon couldn’t be bothered to care. The flatline rang through the room. Veronica’s eyes fluttered shut. Her thoughts lingered on the life she had tried to build, the love she had offered blindly, and the bitter realization that it had all been for nothing. If she could go back, she would never choose him.

Then, a faint voice broke through the darkness.

“Madam… Mr. Joel wants you ready for the auction tonight. What would you like to wear?” Veronica’s eyes snapped open. She was no longer in the hospital. The sterile smell, the beeping machines, everything had vanished. She was standing in Vordon’s mansion, five years in the past, shortly after their marriage. Allie Lowe, her assistant, held a pristine white gown in her hands. “This one?” she asked, hopeful.

Veronica’s mind raced. White. She had always worn white, trying to mimic Viole Stale, the woman Vordon truly loved. Foolish, desperate attempts to win his attention. But that path had led only to heartbreak.

“No,” Veronica said firmly. She scanned the wardrobe and picked a bright red gown instead. “This. I’ll wear this.”

Allie hesitated. “But… Mr. Joel, he usually prefers”

“I don’t care,” Veronica interrupted, her voice steady, a spark of defiance in her tone. “Get rid of the whites. I never liked them anyway.”

Reluctantly, Allie nodded. “As you wish, Madam.”

Veronica gazed at herself in the mirror. Young, beautiful, alive and determined. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. Tonight, she will rewrite the story.

The crimson gown hugged her curves perfectly, the rich fabric catching the light as she moved. Her makeup was flawless, her hair cascading in soft waves, a small beauty mark just beneath her eye adding an almost cinematic allure. She looked like a masterpiece, every bit the woman who would command attention without apology. When she entered the auction hall, the room seemed to pause. All eyes turned toward her, including Tyrus Lane’s, the sharp-tongued socialite known for dissecting everyone in the room.

“Who is that?” he asked, leaning toward his companion, Vardy Foster.

“That’s Veronica Joel,” Vardy whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But rumor has it Vordon’s here with another woman tonight. This should be interesting.”

Tyrus didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on her, unblinking, as Veronica moved gracefully through the crowd.

Viole Stale clung nervously to Vordon’s arm, her white dress a stark, almost fragile contrast to the vibrancy around her. “I… I don’t know if I should be here,” she murmured.

“You’ll get used to it,” Vordon said smoothly, though his eyes were calculating. “You’ll be attending these events more often.”

As they neared the main entrance, Larry Lewis, Vordon’s secretary, approached. “Sir, shouldn’t Madam be”

Vordon’s jaw tightened. “I told you to tell her not to come.”

Viole stepped forward, voice low and uncertain. “I asked Larry not to mention it. I didn’t want rumors, and it seemed better if Veronica joined you instead.”

Vordon exhaled slowly, irritation flickering across his features. “Fine. But if she shows up, make sure she’s sent back immediately.”

Larry nodded, but before he could move, the murmurs in the hall surged into a low gasp.

“It’s too late,” Larry muttered, eyes widening. Veronica had entered.

In her red gown, she moved like fire through the crowd, every step commanding attention. The cameras swiveled, the whispers grew louder, and even Vordon, for a moment, froze. This was not the Veronica he had known, the soft, compliant wife who faded into the background. This was a woman reborn, radiant and unshakable.

Viole’s face paled as she took in the striking contrast. Where Veronica exuded confidence and power, she seemed fragile and uncertain, a mere shadow in the red glow of her rival’s presence.

“She's stunning,” Viole admitted, the envy in her voice barely concealed.

Veronica’s eyes found Vordon’s. Calm, poised, unafraid. She approached him slowly, a faint, controlled smile playing on her lips. She didn’t falter, didn’t shrink. She had anticipated this moment and tonight, nothing would catch her off guard.

A reporter leaned toward a colleague, whispering in awe, “That’s Mrs. Joel… but who’s the girl with him?”

Veronica’s smile widened, subtle but deliberate. Tonight, the rules had changed.

When Veronica reached them, she slipped her hand into Vordon’s and turned to Viole with a gracious smile. “You must be Viole, the student Vordon mentioned. I’m Veronica. You can call me Mrs. Joel.”

Viole, feeling the weight of the title Veronica had just introduced herself with, awkwardly released Vordon’s arm and shook Veronica’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Joel,” she managed, though the words felt like a thorn in her throat.

“I hear you’re planning to study abroad soon?” Veronica asked, her tone polite but distant.

Viole shot a nervous glance at Vordon, who quickly intervened. “Viole is top of her class. She’s set to study abroad this year, but she’s a little nervous about it. I brought her here tonight to give her some exposure.”

It was clear to Veronica that Vordon hadn’t yet fallen deeply for Viole. That would come later, after Viole returned from studying abroad. But even now, he was parading Viole around at events, making it obvious to everyone in Cruiser City that he had a particular interest in this young student.

None of it mattered to Veronica anymore. She wasn’t here to compete for Vordon’s affection. She had a different goal tonight.

“Well then, Vordon, do take care of Ms. Stale. I’ll head inside,” Veronica said, releasing his hand with a slight nod.

Vordon blinked in surprise. This was not the reaction he expected from Veronica. By the time he recovered, she had already entered the auction hall, leaving him standing there, confused. Since when had the fiery, defiant Veronica become so composed, so detached?

Veronica took a seat in a quieter corner of the hall. The room was filled with Cruiser’s elite, all gathered for the auction. Veronica recalled that there was a piece of land on offer tonight, a neglected plot that no one seemed interested in. But she remembered its future, how a small business owner had bought it for a song and later turned it into a fortune when the surrounding area was developed. That land had become prime real estate, and the once unknown businessman had risen to power because of it.

If she was going to leave Vordon, Veronica needed to start planning for a future on her own terms. Meanwhile, Vordon was scanning the room, trying to locate Veronica. Viole, sitting beside him, noticed his distraction. “Mr. Joel… Are you sure you want me to bid tonight?” she asked, trying to bring his focus back to her.

“Yes,” Vordon replied, his tone distant as his mind lingered on Veronica. “I trust your judgment.” Viole blushed with pride. She had worked hard for this moment, studying finance in anticipation of playing a bigger role in Vordon’s life.

From her seat on the second floor, Veronica watched Vordon and Viole exchange quiet words, their heads close together. She knew that Viole had talent that was one of the reasons Vordon eventually fell for her. In her previous life, Viole had impressed Vordon by securing a valuable piece of land at an auction just like this one. But Veronica also knew that the land was already valuable because of the Joel’ other developments in the area. Viole had simply pushed the price up with Vordon’s money, making it seem like a brilliant move.

The auction began, and Viole, bolstered by Vordon’s confidence in her, started bidding aggressively. She won three prime properties in quick succession, each time glancing at Vordon for approval, which he gave readily.

“The New Moon Project, starting bid at one billion dollars,” the auctioneer announced.

Without hesitation, Veronica’s voice cut through the room. “Two billion.”

Gasps rippled through the audience. Vordon’s brow furrowed as he turned to look at Veronica. What was she playing at?

Viole leaned in close, whispering, “That land isn’t worth much. Veronica is going to lose a fortune on that bid.”

Vordon pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to Veronica. “What are you doing?”

Veronica glanced at the message on her phone, but she didn’t respond.

“Two billion going at once, twice.” The auctioneer’s voice echoed through the hall. Tyrus Lane, sitting a few rows behind Vordon, raised his paddle. “Three billion.”

Vardy Foster, sitting beside Tyrus, nearly choked on his drink. “Tyrus, have you lost your mind?”

Veronica’s eyes flicked up to see who was challenging her bid. When she saw Tyrus, she frowned. Why was he interested in this piece of land? She vaguely recalled that Tyrus had connections to some shady industries, but since when had he started investing in real estate?

“Four billion,” Veronica said calmly, raising the stakes.

Vordon’s frown deepened. He quickly typed another message. “Veronica, stop this right now.”

Veronica didn’t even glance at her phone this time. She turned it off and focused back on the auction.

“Five billion,” Tyrus countered, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Veronica’s temper flared. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, she’d play.

“Ten billion,” she declared, her voice unwavering.

The room erupted in whispers. “She’s lost it. No land is worth that much!”

Even Vordon, usually composed, stood up in shock. What on earth was Veronica thinking?

Tyrus looked across at Veronica, his smirk widening. He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “I’m out.”

“Ten billion going at once, twice. Sold!” the auctioneer announced, his gavel coming down with finality.

Veronica let out a breath, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. The land was hers, but she had spent far more than necessary thanks to Tyrus’s meddling.

Vardy nudged Tyrus, laughing. “You’re lucky she didn’t jump across the room and throttle you. I know I would.”

Tyrus just shrugged, unbothered by the ordeal.

Meanwhile, Viole tugged on Vordon’s sleeve. “Mr. Joel, Veronica’s going to bankrupt you at this rate.”

Vordon’s expression was cold. “She made the bid. She’ll deal with the consequences herself.”