Leandro's Revenge

chapter 02

Leandro could not believe what welcomed him upon his return home. After four years in prison, he was looking forward to a decent bath, clean clothes, and warm food. He never imagined his wife would be this shameless. His jaw ticked as soon as he saw her sprawled over the couch earlier, moaning. Above her was a man. It took all his self-control not to murder them both right there and then.

And now, as he scowled at her, he almost wished her dead. Her face paled as she gazed back at him. “Who?”

Ethan. My cousin. Leandro almost said, but he decided against it.

“The man earlier.” He said instead. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s your first time to sleep with another man besides your husband.”

“You don’t care?” she asked, her voice dropping. For a moment, he stared into her eyes. She looked extremely disappointed of his answer and yet he pushed the nagging guilt aside. This was what he wanted, seeing her in pain.

“Not in the least. Should I?”

A frown crossed her face. “Then why do you refuse to sign the divorce papers? I am giving you the freedom you want so bad.”

He smirked. “And let you marry whoever the f**k you’re screwing with? Never.”

He dropped her and she almost lost balance. Unaffected by her momentary weakness, he paced across the room to the bathroom and shut the door close, leaving her speechless.

After a warm shower, he sighed, finally feeling clean for the first time in years. When he came out, Isabelle was gone. He dressed into sweatpants and a white shirt and headed downstairs.

Laura, one of their maids, beamed as soon as she saw him. He frowned. Why wasn’t she here earlier? He wanted to interrogate her how many men Isabelle had brought home in the past few years while he was gone but decided to just keep his mouth shut. Why did he even care?

“Welcome back, Mr. Gonzalez.”

He nodded at her direction and sat down.

Laura served him steaming food which he devoured quickly. Once finished, he went back upstairs straight to Isabelle’s room without bothering to knock.

She laid on the bed with her eyes closed, already in her nightgown. He knew she’s awake but refused to open her eyes. He took the chance to study her, his face darkening with suppressed anger.

Her skin glowed against the light coming from the lampshade, her n*****s puckered against the thin layer of her nightgown, her thighs and legs were inviting. Knowing all too well she wasn’t wearing anything under that damned thing, his breathing hitched. Oh, how much he hated her but at the same time he wanted to f**k her brains out.

“Done watching?” she asked, opening her puffy eyes.

Ignoring her mockery, he marched toward the bed and lifted her, bridal style. A gasp of surprise came out from her pretty mouth. He ground his teeth, feeling her n*****s pressed against his chest as she clung onto him.

“Put me down!”

Disregarding her protests, he went on, kicking the door close and throwing her unceremoniously onto his bed.

She glared at him as he occupied the other side of the bed. The smooth and soft mattress reminded him again that he’s finally out of the prison. It felt surreal. He sighed, closing his eyes, his mind wandering to the future. He left the company in his father’s and brother’s hand while he was away, but he worried he might no longer be qualified. After all, the stakeholders would surely have mixed concerns about letting an ex-convict take over the company.

Feeling her gaze upon him, he asked, “Are you going to glare at me the entire night?”

With a huff, Isabelle finally laid on her back. There was long deafening silence. He sighed again, immersed in his own thoughts. How easily his reputation was ruined because of an accident. How his wife cheated on him with his cousin. How she shamelessly brought men in their home. He clenched his jaw, the anger building up once again. The images of ripping her apart played in the back of his mind.

His time in prison was difficult. There was a point where he thought he was going crazy and just wanted to die. But his hate for her pushed him to endure and now that he’s free, he would make sure to make her pay.

“Was it hard?” Isabelle’s question pulled him out of reverie.

“What is?”

“In prison? Did they give you a hard time?” She rolled to her side, reached out and trailed her fingertips along the small scar on his right cheek. “This wasn’t here before.”

Disgusted of her, he caught her wrist and shove her hand away. “I got it from the accident.”

He forced away the memories, tightly shutting his eyes. The accident and his time in jail when other inmates and guards would pick on them, him included, and beat the hell out of them. He suffered physically and the more he did, the more he hated her.

Silence ensued before she spoke again. “Why didn’t you let me see you? After the accident and in jail.”

“Because I hate you.”

“For what?” her voice was eerily quiet, the earlier defiance and pride had gone missing.

“For ruining my life.”

“How did I ruin your life?” she asked cluelessly.

Not wanting to talk to her, he said, “Just go to sleep.”

A long silence befell them again before she finally broke it with a sigh. “Well, you ruined my life too. This is not the life I wanted for myself.” she said before turning her back on him.

One month and he would break her apart. All he needed to do was make her fall in love with him and leave her with a broken heart. How hard could it be?