Bride of my revenge

The Garcia mansion was never loud, but it was never warm either. Jenna Garcia had grown up understanding that difference. Morning light spilled through tall glass windows, stretching across polished marble floors that reflected elegance but no comfort. Everything in the house was perfectly arranged, controlled, untouchable. It felt less like a home and more like a place designed to impress. She sat alone at the long dining table, her breakfast untouched. Her father was already awake, but not present. He rarely joined her anymore. Even when he did, conversations were brief and practical, never personal. Jenna had long stopped expecting anything more. Soft footsteps broke the silence as Melissa Brooks entered the room. Elegant, composed, distant, she carried herself like she belonged, yet never truly connected. She glanced at Jenna briefly. “You’ll be attending a charity event this weekend,” Melissa said, pouring herself coffee. “Your father wants you there.” Jenna nodded. It wasn’t a request. Melissa’s eyes flicked to the untouched food. “You should eat.” “I will,” Jenna replied softly, though she didn’t move. When Melissa left, the silence returned, heavier than before. Jenna stood slowly, her gaze drifting to a framed photograph by the staircase. Her mother smiled warmly in it, her presence almost alive despite the years. Jenna had been four when she lost her. She didn’t remember everything, but she remembered enough the warmth, the laughter, the way the house had once felt like a home. After her mother died, everything changed. The silence settled in, and it never left. By the time her father remarried, Jenna had already learned how to live quietly within it. School was different. Louder. Brighter. Filled with voices and careless laughter. Students walked in groups, their lives loud and visible. Jenna moved through it unnoticed despite her name. She preferred it that way. She took her usual seat by the window, her gaze drifting absentmindedly until it stopped. Jake Saint. He sat a few rows ahead, shoulders slightly hunched, his attention fixed on his desk. His uniform was clean but worn, the fabric faded with time. While others talked and shared food, Jake remained silent, distant, as though he had learned not to expect anything. Jenna had seen him before. But this time, she noticed him. When lunch break came, the classroom emptied quickly. Jenna stayed behind, pretending to arrange her books. She watched Jake stand slowly, hesitate, then sit back down. He didn’t leave. He didn’t eat. A strange tightness formed in her chest. She didn’t understand why it bothered her, but it did. After school, instead of going home, Jenna stopped by the cafeteria. She bought extra food without thinking too much about it. It felt like something she had to do. When she returned to the classroom, Jake was still there. She hesitated at the door. Then stepped in. “Jake,” she said quietly. He looked up, surprised, as if no one had called his name in a long time. “You forgot this,” she said, holding out the bag. “I had extra.” He stared at it, uncertain. “I’m fine.” "It’s okay,” she replied quickly. “I didn’t want it to go to waste.” It was a lie, but a gentle one. After a pause, he reached out and took it. His fingers brushed hers briefly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. That moment lingered. From then on, it became routine. Jenna brought food. Jake accepted it. Sometimes they spoke simple things about school, nothing too personal. Other times, they sat in silence. It was easy, in a way Jenna hadn’t experienced before. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. But nothing stayed hidden for long. Whispers followed her through the halls. Curious looks turned into judgment. It wasn’t about Jake, it was about her. The Garcia heiress. And the poor boy. The contrast was too obvious, too tempting for gossip to ignore. The news reached home. That evening, Jenna returned to raised voices echoing from her father’s study. She paused, her breath catching as she heard his tone sharp, controlled. “This is unacceptable,” he said. “Do you understand what people are saying?” Melissa’s voice followed, calmer but firm. “She doesn’t see it that way.” “It doesn’t matter what she sees.” Jenna stepped back quietly, her heart pounding. Something had changed. That night, sleep didn’t come easily. Unease settled deep inside her, heavier than anything she could name. The next day, as she sat beside Jake in silence, she felt it again, that quiet, creeping feeling that something was wrong. That something was coming. And that, whatever it was… it would change everything.