The Ex-Wife's Revenge

Chapter Three: Femme Fatale

The bar's low hum fades as the heavy pulse of the music takes over. I step onto the dance floor, my silhouette framed by the soft, flickering lights. I don’t look back, but my body moves to the beat, fluid, confident, each sway of my hips an invitation, every turn a promise. My hands glide over my curves, fingers tracing my neckline before falling gently to my sides. I’m well aware of him behind me, the heat of his gaze pressing into my back, it’s loud, undeniable, even without looking. I let the rhythm guide me, giving a quiet dance just for him. With every movement, I feel his attention pull me like a magnet, but I keep my focus on the music, on the sensation of the moment. I tease him with the closeness, never fully letting him in. My body arches, the air between us charged, and for a heartbeat, it feels like we’re the only two in the room.

My cheeks flushed. We were so close, I could feel his breath cool with mint and a hint of alcohol. God, I swear I felt worldly desires in that moment. I took a step back, straightened myself, and gave him an innocent smile.

“So... will you buy me a drink?” I asked, giving him a slow, inviting look.

He clenched his jaw, licked his lips, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Without a word, he called someone it looked like a staff member. He leaned in, whispered something, never breaking eye contact with me. Then he just... walked toward the exit.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. Not even a word? No effort? Maybe he was hot, but damn, that was rude. I rolled my eyes in irritation. Still, there was no way I was letting this night go to waste. I followed him to the parking lot and blocked his path before he could reach his car.

He looked surprised for a second, but that shifted into amusement. I hated him more for it. No one had ever made me feel this desperate. His confidence was overwhelming, and I wanted to run.

But the alcohol had other plans. My feet wouldn’t move.

“Don’t you think it’s too early to head home?” I asked, casually combing my hair like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Don’t you want to have a drink with me?”

He chuckled, and that laugh made my knees weak. How could a guy be this attractive? It was ridiculous. He stepped closer. I backed up until I felt his car against my spine.

“As much as I’d love to stay, I’ve got a packed day tomorrow,” he said, licking his lips. “Let’s meet another time.”

His eyes locked with mine before trailing down to my parted lips. He brushed them with his fingers but didn’t kiss me. Then, just like that, he pulled himself together and laughed softly.

Damn. I probably looked desperate.

“I want to make it up to you,” he said. “Can I give you a ride?”

My brain tripped over the word ride, and not in the innocent way. But I pushed the thought aside. I had bigger plans tonight.

“O-Okay,” I managed. Not a bad trade, really. I could still dig for information and maybe even get something useful to stain their reputation.

He opened the door for me. Once we were in, he asked where to drop me off. I gave him the address, and silence filled the car like fog. It clung to everything.

I glanced at him. His sleeves were rolled up, veins visible, arms tense. He looked strong. Controlled. Masculine.

I gulped.

“Like the view?” he said suddenly.

I blushed in embarassment. Was that a smirk I saw? I quickly turned back to the road, cleared my throat, and swore I wouldn’t look at him again!

His phone rang. He answered in a tone too soft to ignore.

“Yes, I’m on my way right now.”

A girlfriend? But I’d done my research and no sign of anyone in his life. Then again, powerful people can hide anything.

“I’ll look into it when I get home. Just kiss them goodnight for me. Don’t stay up too late,” he said gently.

Them? Was he married? With kids? What the hell was I thinking, trusting the online too easily? Of course someone like him would keep secrets.

He hung up, leaning his elbow against the window, his fingers pressed to his temple. He looked serious. Too serious.

Time for a change of plans. I wasn’t going to lose everything over some married man.

We were close to my place now. Even though my feet were killing me from these damn heels, I broke the silence.

“You can drop me off here,” I said, slipping my shoes back on.

Then, casual as ever, “So... you married? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but, you know, we are in your car.”

He gave me that ghost of a smile again. Amused.

“You’re interesting, aren’t you?”

He parked the car and stepped out. I thought he was just going to open the door for me but instead, he leaned one arm on the roof, blocking my exit.

“No, it was my mom,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m too busy for that.”

I looked away. The tension between us was unbearable.

He straightened up, hands back in his pockets, steering the energy like he owned it.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, stepping out. I licked my lips, ran my fingers through my hair. The wind hit us, and I shivered.

Without a word, he slipped off his coat and placed it over my shoulders.

“So... goodbye, then,” I said. “Let’s meet again if fate allows it.”

Not that I’ll leave it to fate, becaue I will be that fate. You’ll be walking on glass before I’m through.

“Thanks for this. I’ll return it another time,” I added, brushing the coat gently. He looked amused again. But just before getting back in his car, he turned.

“You can keep it,” he said. “I’m Hugo, by the way. And you are?”

Oh, right. That.

“I’m Celine,” I lied. I wasn’t ready for him to know who I really was. Not yet.

But what surprised me more? He didn’t seem to know me at all. Was my family really that insignificant to them? Or was he just that busy? Either way, it didn’t matter.

The plan was the plan.

“It’s nice meeting you,” he said, his eyes soft but with that same quiet authority.

He left that night. But I made sure he didn’t leave empty-handed.

In his car, waiting like bait, was my number and a red thong sprayed out with my perfume.

That’s your gift, Hugo.

I watched his taillights fade into the night, my body still warmed by the coat he left behind. The scent of him clung to it clean, expensive, a little wild. Something untamed under all that control. It made my skin prickle.

I clutched it tighter around me, not because I was cold but because I wasn’t ready to let go of the moment. Not yet.

I walked the last few blocks home, heels dangling from one hand, the pain in my feet is a reminder that I was still in control. That I still had a job to do. I smiled, as if I've achieved my biggest dream.

Let him think I’m just a flirt. Let him think I left behind lingerie like some starstruck girl drunk on attention.

Let him underestimate me.

It makes the final blow so much sweeter.