Mr CEOs revenge bride

Sierra's POV “You’re what?” The words tore out of me before I could stop them. “Pregnant.” Tara’s voice cracked through the bathroom door. “Three months. It’s Alex’s.” Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the bathroom door, refusing to believe the words I had just heard. Three months. Alex’s baby. My chest tightened so painfully tears instantly burned the back of my eyes. “It just happened,” she added quickly. Desperately. It just happened. Like a spilled drink. Like a wrong turn. Not like sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back for six whole months while pretending to be my best friend. I pressed my palm flat against the door trying to steady my breathing but my entire body was shaking too hard. “How long have you been lying to me?” Silence. “Tara. How long?” “Eight months now.” The tears finally rolled down my cheeks. Eight months of wedding conversations. Eight months of her hugging me while secretly sleeping with the man I loved. God. I felt sick. “Why are you telling me this now?” “Because tonight,” she whispered shakily, “he’ll be proposing to me.” A broken laugh escaped me before I could stop it. At my birthday party. In front of everyone. How humiliating. “Then don’t say yes.” Silence. “Tara. Please.” “I have to.” Her voice cracked harder. “His family knows about the baby. My family knows. Your mother knows too.” My mother. A shaky breath left me and suddenly breathing became difficult because somehow that hurt even worse than Alex cheating. My own mother knew. She knew another woman was carrying my boyfriend’s child and she still smiled in my face tonight. I slowly slid down the wall until I hit the cold bathroom floor. The red heels I bought for tonight suddenly looked stupid. The dress. The makeup. The birthday sash. It all felt pathetic now. “You were supposed to be my best friend,” I whispered. “You were supposed to stand beside me at my wedding.” A broken sob escaped her. “I know.” “Not marry him instead.” The silence after that felt unbearable. I could hear her crying quietly on the other side of the door but somehow she still had everything. Alex, The baby, The future, And I had nothing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered weakly. I wiped angrily at my tears. “Sorry doesn’t fix this.” “I know.” God, I hated those two words. I closed my eyes and suddenly every memory replayed itself perfectly. The lipstick stain on Alex’s collar. The late nights. The smell of perfume once clinging to his shirt. I asked him about all of it. Every single time he lied straight to my face while kissing me like I was the woman he loved. I was such an i***t. “What do you want me to do?” Tara asked softly. “Leave.” “Sierra...” “Leave me alone.” My voice broke completely this time. “Tonight, Tomorrow, Forever. Just leave.” A long silence followed. Then the lock clicked. Her heels faded slowly down the hallway until finally there was nothing. Just me. Alone on a bathroom floor trying to understand how my entire life got destroyed in less than ten minutes. I don’t know how long I stayed there. Long enough for my mascara to dry in black stains down my cheeks. Long enough for the pain inside me to stop burning and become something colder. Something dangerous. Eventually I forced myself up and looked into the mirror. The woman staring back at me didn’t look like the same Sierra who walked into this hotel two hours ago smiling because she thought her boyfriend was finally going to propose. This Sierra looked shattered. My bag, phone and wallet were still inside the ballroom. The tiny pieces of dignity I still had left. So I walked back into the ballroom. The second the doors opened, laughter crashed into me again, and suddenly I hated every single person inside that room. Champagne glasses clinked. People smiled. Music played softly in the background. Nobody noticed me at first. Or maybe they did and simply looked away. I kept my head down while moving toward our table until my mother’s voice floated through the crowd. “…such a shame honestly but Tara’s family has better connections. Sierra will understand eventually.” My chest hurt so badly I almost stopped walking. Understand? Was I supposed to understand my own replacement? A few guests turned towards me. Whispers immediately followed. “She knows.” “Oh my God.” “Look at her face.” “Poor thing.” Poor thing. Like I was something broken people should pity quietly before returning to their expensive dinners. I grabbed my bag quickly and turned away before my mother could see me. Or maybe she already had. She just didn’t care enough to stop me. Nobody stopped me. And somehow that hurt most of all. I walked faster towards the ballroom doors with my head down and tears still threatening to fall when I bumped into someone. A strong hand caught my arm before I could fall. “Careful.” The voice was low. Calm. Smooth. I looked up briefly but didn’t really catch the stranger’s face. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered before quickly walking past him toward the hotel bar. **** The hotel bar was dimly lit and almost empty except for a jazz band quietly playing. Perfect. I slid onto a stool and wiped quickly at my face before the bartender noticed I had been crying. “Whiskey,” I said quietly. The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” “No,” I admitted. “But bring it anyway.” “That’s usually a bad sign.” I turned slightly and froze. A stranger sat two stools away with a glass in his hand. Dark suit. Blue eyes. Sharp jaw. I looked at his face and then saw he was the stranger I bumped into at the ballroom. I looked away first. “Are you following me?” I muttered. One side of his mouth lifted slightly. “If I was, you wouldn’t have noticed.” I frowned immediately. “Wow. So you’re arrogant too.” “And you’re defensive.” The whiskey arrived and I grabbed the glass too quickly. “I’m not in the mood to be analyzed.” “Good,” he replied calmly. “I’m not interested in fixing you.” That irritated me more than it should have. Most people either pitied me or tried comforting me. This man did neither. I took a sip and instantly regretted it because the alcohol burned all the way down my throat. He noticed. “You hate whiskey.” “You don’t know me.” “No,” he agreed quietly. “But I know heartbreak when I see it.” Something about the way he said it made my chest ache all over again. I laughed bitterly and stared down at the glass in my hands. “My boyfriend got my best friend pregnant,” I whispered. “Apparently my mother helped plan the proposal.” Silence. Heavy silence. The kind that feels understood. “That explains the crying.” I turned toward him in disbelief. “That’s your response?” “What did you want?” he asked calmly. “A motivational speech?” God he was infuriating. And somehow that was the first thing all night that stopped me from crying. “What’s your name?” I asked quietly. He hesitated briefly. “Martin.” “Sierra.” “I know.” I frowned. “How?” He pointed toward the birthday sash still hanging loosely across my shoulder. Heat rushed to my face instantly and I ripped it off before dropping it onto the counter. Martin watched me quietly for a second before signaling the bartender. “Another round.” “You don’t have to do that.” “I know.” There was something strange about him. Cold but gentle. Like he understood broken things a little too well. **** Then suddenly, the ballroom doors bursted open. “Sierra!” My entire body froze. Alex. I turned slowly to see Alex running toward me looking completely desperate while half the guests followed behind him watching the drama unfold. And in his hand, the same ring I found hidden inside his sock drawer. He dropped to his knees in front of me so fast the entire bar went silent. “I made a mistake,” he choked out desperately. “I love you. Not Tara. You. Please marry me.” Behind him, Tara stood near the doorway with one hand resting protectively against her stomach while tears rolled down her cheeks. My stomach twisted painfully. Then Martin stood up. Slowly. Calmly. Like Alex wasn’t kneeling on the floor crying in front of half the hotel. Martin walked past him without a single glance and stopped directly beside me. Close enough for me to smell whiskey and expensive cologne. Close enough to notice the anger hidden behind those cold blue eyes of his. Alex looked up immediately. “Who the hell are you?” Martin ignored him. Instead, he looked at me. Then his gaze dropped briefly to the tears on my face before returning to my eyes again. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “You’re worth more than a man who only chooses you after someone else gets pregnant.” The entire bar went silent. Alex stood abruptly. “Stay out of this.” Martin finally looked at him and suddenly the atmosphere changed. Cold. Dangerous. Controlled. “She said leave,” Martin replied calmly. “You should’ve listened.” “You don’t even know her.” “No,” Martin said quietly. “But I know men like you.” Alex laughed bitterly. “And what? You think you’re better?” Martin didn’t answer immediately. His eyes stayed on mine instead. Then slowly, he reached for my hand. “Come with me.” My breath caught. Alex stared at our joined hands in disbelief. Tara looked seconds away from breaking down completely. And somehow the craziest part wasn’t that I barely knew this man. It was that for the first time all night, I actually wanted someone to choose me. Then Martin looked back at Alex. “She’s not yours anymore.”