Revenge Wears Red

Ethan

I clenched my fists and slowly pushed myself off the cold ground, my legs trembling beneath me. Every movement ached, but the pain inside was louder than anything my body could scream.

I looked at the money scattered around me like the broken pieces of my pride. I wanted to leave it. I wanted to walk away and never look back. But I had nothing. Not even my phone. No wallet, no ID, no place to go. This... this was all I had left.

With shaking hands and tears dripping from my chin, I bent down and gathered the crumpled bills, swallowing the shame like poison. Every note I touched felt like another slap to the face.

When I finished, I turned and walked away.

The mansion faded behind me, a cruel castle of memories now tainted beyond repair. The road to the main street wasn’t far, but every step felt like a mile. My shoes scraped against the gravel, my body heavy with heartbreak.

Then I heard it—music. Loud, vulgar, pounding from a bar down the street. The kind of place that smelled like beer, sweat, and bad choices. Perfect.

I dragged my feet toward it, uncaring of the people packed inside. Drunk men hollered. Women danced with glassy eyes and careless laughter. But I didn’t see any of them.

I was here for one thing, to drown.

To bury the pain at the bottom of a bottle.

Or ten.

If someone offered me poison, I would’ve taken it. Gladly. What was the point of living when even love had spat me out like trash?

But as the thought crept in, I clicked my tongue in disgust. No. Death wouldn’t fix this. It wouldn’t stop Lucas from holding Veronica. It wouldn’t undo the betrayal or make them pay.

They were doing just fine without me.

So why should I give them the satisfaction of my end?

I marched to the counter, voice hoarse. “Give me a crate.”

The bartender raised a brow. “A crate of what?”

“Alcohol. The strongest you’ve got.”

And when it was set before me, I opened the first bottle and drank like it was air.

Maybe if I got drunk enough, I’d forget how much it hurt to still be breathing.

I drank.

Two.

Five.

Seven—eventually, I lost count.

The loud music faded into a dull hum in the back of my mind. I was no longer in that bar. I was floating somewhere between heartbreak and numbness. The alcohol wrapped around my thoughts like fog, blurring everything but the pain.

How foolish I had been, to believe he’d rush to my hospital room the moment my eyes fluttered open. That he’d fall to his knees, tears in his eyes, whispering that he missed me.

But no. Lucas had moved on.

And Veronica… she was pregnant. Pregnant with the child of the man who still wore the ring that bound us.

Tears slipped down my cheeks again. Silent, hot, endless.

“One bottle of vodka,” a deep voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned my head sluggishly and caught the side profile of a man standing beside me, placing his order. The bartender handed him the bottle, and instead of walking away, the man crouched beside my chair.

“This one’s stronger,” he said, holding it out to me. “You look like you need it.”

I blinked at him, my head swaying slightly. What was with this guy? Did I have 'broken girl' written on my forehead?

“I’m fi-fine,” I slurred, the words tumbling over each other. “T-thank you…”

I didn’t want company. I didn’t want kindness. Not from him. Not from anyone. I just wanted to sit here and forget that the people I loved had stabbed me straight through the heart.

But he didn’t leave. He stayed crouched in front of me, eyes dark and curious, studying me like I was a puzzle.

I huffed and pushed myself up from the stool, only to lose my balance. The ground rushed toward me.

But it never came.

Warm arms caught me. Strong, steady. He gently guided me back to the seat, his hands lingering just long enough to make sure I was safe.

“Thanks,” I muttered, the shame of it all pressing down like a weight. I wasn’t used to this. I wasn’t an alcoholic. I wasn’t weak. But here I was, broken and drunk, falling apart in a bar full of strangers.

All because of Lucas.

Because of Veronica.

Because everyone I loved had turned their backs on me.

I gritted my teeth, fury bubbling beneath the sorrow.

“You just wait,” I hissed under my breath. “Karma will find you. Both of you.”

The man beside me tilted his head, watching me. And then, in a voice that sent a chill down my spine, he said,

“What if you didn’t wait for karma?”

He leaned in just slightly. “What if you got them yourself?”

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

But it was too late.

My heart was pounding, wild and erratic, thundering against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest. The alcohol had spread through my veins like poison, making everything spin. My hands trembled as I tried to steady myself, but my body was betraying me.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

His face wavered in front of me like a shadow.

The bar’s lights flickered, the noise drowned beneath the sudden rush of blood roaring in my ears. My vision swam.

And then.

Thud.

I hit the floor hard.

The noise faded. My limbs felt heavy, useless.

A pair of strong arms caught me again, lifting me gently.

Then, darkness.

The first thing I felt was pain, splitting, dull, and pulsing behind my eyes. The second was panic.

I shot upright, breath hitching in my throat.

Where the hell was I?

The ceiling above was high, unfamiliar. The sheets smelled of something masculine and expensive. I sat up abruptly, and a wave of dizziness hit me like a brick. My temples pounded. My body ached.

Then I saw him.

A man sat beside the bed, still, composed, watching me.

I froze.

He was… beautiful. Dangerously so. Like something sculpted to deceive. But it wasn’t his face that stole my breath, it was the fact that he was a stranger.

And I was alone with him.

I scrambled backward, the sheets tangling around my legs. My mouth opened, but no sound came.

My head throbbed again, and I clutched at it, trying to breathe. Memories surged in like a flood.

Lucas. Veronica. The betrayal. The bar. The drinks. The stranger.

Oh God.

My eyes locked on him again, wide with fear.

“Who are you?” I managed to choke out. “Where am I?”

He didn’t move. Just kept watching me, his eyes like ice and fire all at once. Then his lips parted, and his voice was quiet… velvety smooth.

“Easy, pretty,” he said, like I hadn’t just woken up in a stranger’s bed, “you asked for this.”

I blinked, confused. “What?”

He leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. His stare never wavered.

“You wanted revenge,” he said, like he already knew everything. “And Ethan?”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“Ethan delivers.”