He Slept With Me for Revenge

Chapter 3 What It Looks Like

Helena stepped back, dodging his embrace, and headed straight for the bathroom. "Just wandered around. My phone died."

Sebastian watched her retreating figure, a faint frown crossing his face, but he didn't think much of it—dismissing her coldness as fatigue from the rain.

After she emerged from the bathroom, Sebastian went to take a shower.

Seizing the opportunity, Helena picked up his phone, her hands trembling slightly as she unlocked it.

A pinned contact named "Maggie" caught her eye. She tapped it open, her heart sinking with every message.

Maggie: Seb, Singerion's so boring. I already bought a ticket back to Rington City—you better come pick me up, okay?

Sebastian's reply was short and sweet.

Sebastian: Of course, can't wait to see you.

Scrolling back, she found daily messages filled with affectionate check-ins.

Even his so-called "business trip" three days ago had been a lie—he'd been traveling with Margaret.

The chat was filled with photos Margaret had sent him, the two of them grinning, their bodies pressed close, every gesture oozing intimacy.

Helena felt a bitter laugh bubble up in her throat.

In three years of marriage, she'd never once traveled with Sebastian.

Every time she'd brought up a honeymoon, he'd brush her off with the same excuse. "Helena, your dad and brother trusted me with the group. I can't let them down."

She'd been understanding, never complaining, never pushing.

Yet here he was, lying about work to jet off with another woman.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as she hurried to put the phone back in its place, just as Sebastian's shower turned off.

The mattress dipped beside her as he slid into bed, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his warm breath fanning her ear—a familiar, wordless invitation.

Helena couldn't wrap her head around it.

'How could he even fake physical desire? When he loses himself in me, who is he really thinking about?'

Fighting back the bitterness in her chest, she gently pushed his arm away, her voice cold and distant. "I'm getting my period soon. My stomach hurts."

Sebastian froze for a second, then patted her waist lightly, forcing down his desire.

The night passed in silence.

Sebastian was up bright and early the next morning, slipping into the high-end suit Helena had bought him last week. He even sprayed cologne—a rare occurrence—his face lit up with excitement he couldn't hide.

Helena watched him, her expression neutral as she asked, "Something good happen?"

Sebastian quickly wiped the smile from his face, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing. Just meeting an important entrepreneur today. I'm heading out, Helena—don't call me unless it's an emergency."

His steps were light as he left the house. As Helena stared at his back, tears streamed down her face.

'So this is what it looks like when he truly loves someone—excitement that can't be contained, joy just from the thought of seeing them.'

It was nothing like the way he was with her—calm, distant, his smiles never reaching his eyes.

Once he was gone, Helena picked up her phone and started digging into Margaret's background.

After several calls and favors, she opened the document she'd been sent—and her blood ran cold.

Margaret was Sebastian's first love from college.

The Thorne family had once been a big name in the fashion industry, until they'd collapsed after being caught selling counterfeit goods.

Margaret had been forced to flee the country to avoid debts, breaking up with Sebastian in the process.

But Helena could never have imagined—Margaret had lied to everyone, claiming the Thorne family's downfall was caused by the Asher family's sabotage.

That lie had filled Sebastian with hatred, driving him to plot his revenge.

Every step he'd taken to get close to her—offering to be her model at graduation, pushing her out of the way of the drunk driver—had been part of his plan.

All to bring down the Asher family and help the Thornes rise again.

Helena collapsed to the floor, staring at the wedding photos and mementos filling their home—all lies, all part of his charade.

She felt as if two invisible forces were tearing her apart: one clinging to the fantasy that Sebastian loved her, the other screaming the ugly truth.

She hugged her knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably, on the verge of breaking.

Suddenly, her phone pinged, and through blurry eyes, she opened i********: to see a new post from one of Sebastian's friends—captioned "Welcome back, goddess."