Her Rise After the Betrayal

The life-saving kindness from their youth had, over the years, decayed into resentment. At night, Seraphina Langston lay in bed alone, while her husband spent the night entangled with another woman, their voices filled with passion. It wasn't until explicit photos were sent to her phone that she finally snapped back to reality. In the end, she let go of everything, leaving behind divorce papers before disappearing from his life. When they met again, she had become a shining star in the jewelry design world, admired by many. And for the first time in years, Damien Whitford felt his heart race again. As snow blanketed the ground in winter, he knelt outside her villa, his voice trembling with regret. "Seraphina, I was wrong. I can't live without you..." The bedroom lights inside stayed on all night. At dawn, he finally received a message from Seraphina. Seraphina: Don't wait. She was exhausted last night and has already fallen asleep. ***** "Ms. Langston, I hope you'll reconsider joining Magnate Gems. While the location might be a bit far for you, Mr. Caldwell truly believes in your talent. He's confident you'll carve out a place for yourself in the jewelry design industry." "Can you give me a few days to think it over?" "Of course, Ms. Langston. I hope to hear back from you soon." Hanging up the phone, Seraphina let out a deep sigh. Jewelry design had always been her passion, and Magnate Gems was the leading company in the industry. Pretending she wasn't tempted would be a lie. But she was married. It wasn't like she could just pack up and leave. Dragging her exhausted body home, she planned to discuss it with her husband, Damien. But as she approached the house, she noticed the front door was slightly ajar, with light spilling out from inside. She froze. Voices drifted from within. "Damien, you gave Seraphina's design drafts to me. Won't she be mad?" "Why should she be? If I hadn't released those designs under your name, no one would've even looked at them." The man's voice was laced with disdain and mockery. She didn't need to think twice—she recognized that voice immediately. Her husband of three years. And the woman... Celeste Mercer. Damien's childhood sweetheart. The most renowned jewelry designer at his company. Celeste's words echoed in her ears. Design drafts... Seraphina's hand froze mid-air before she could push the door open. Her mind went blank. She couldn't think. But she vaguely remembered—about two weeks ago, she had shown Damien a set of jewelry designs she had drawn. That collection was meant as a tribute to her late mother. But what had Damien said back then? He told her that her designs were worthless. So terrible that no one would bother taking a second glance. His words had been like a bucket of ice water, dousing any enthusiasm she had left. She even began to doubt herself, wondering if she truly had no talent. Yet now... she heard him say he had given those designs to Celeste. Sold under Celeste's name. If she wasn't mistaken, Celeste's latest collection had been a massive hit. On her way home, Seraphina had overheard people talking about it—praising the designs, saying they would camp out overnight just to buy them. Back then, she hadn't realized those designs were hers. Now that she knew, it felt like a hole had been ripped open in her chest, icy wind pouring through, freezing her from the inside out. Ever since Celeste returned from abroad a year ago, things between Seraphina and Damien had gone downhill fast. She had worried before, suspecting that maybe their relationship wasn't as simple as it seemed. But suspicions were just that—until now. "Don't say that, Damien. Seraphina treats you so well..." "Of course, she does. She has nowhere else to go without me." "You don't feel bad for her at all?" "If I pity her, then who's going to pity you?" Damien's voice carried a teasing lilt. Then, soft gasps filled the room, unmistakable in their meaning. Seraphina shut her eyes in pain. But when one sense was blocked, the others became sharper. The perfume she had once smelled on Damien. The long strands of hair she had found at home. She finally had her answer. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her shaking hands, forcing down the fear and despair surging inside her. Then, she pushed the door open. "What the hell are you doing?!" Damien, sitting on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned, jolted upright. Celeste, half-sprawled over the sofa, was wearing a short skirt that barely covered her thighs. She instinctively stood up, her flushed face and trembling legs leaving little to the imagination. As she moved, a string of dark brown prayer beads slipped from her wrist and clattered to the floor. The beads glistened, coated in a clear, sticky liquid. Seraphina stood frozen. Her mind, already in chaos, went completely blank. That bracelet... It was the only keepsake left from her late mother. And now, it had been defiled by them. "You're back. Why are you yelling? Trying to scare someone to death?" Damien didn't look the least bit guilty. He casually buttoned up his shirt, his gaze filled with nothing but frustration—as if she was the one who had interrupted him. Seraphina's lips trembled as she looked at the man she had loved for seven years. But maybe it was the tears blurring her vision—because he suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "Damien, don't you think you owe me an explanation?"