The Arranged bride's vengeance

Vanicah Wayne was the most powerful man in Celest City, a figure everyone respected or feared, depending on where they stood. Meanwhile, in the hospital, Dr. Kenny was in shambles, his hands trembling as he fumbled with his phone. He tried dialing the same number over and over, but only after the fourth attempt did he get it right.

His voice shook as he spoke, "Sir, she's losing a lot of blood, and we've run out of the necessary supplies. Please, if you can, come see her one last time."

The response was ice-cold. "She's not dead yet? Call me when she is," the voice on the other end replied, cutting the call before Dr. Kenny could say another word.

Lying on the hospital bed, Keisha Autumn's heart sank into despair. Was this really how little she meant to him? Even now, when she was barely holding onto life, Vanicah couldn't be bothered to see her?

The beeping from the machine grew louder, then flatlined. Keisha felt the last bit of strength drain from her body, her spirit slipping away. She was only twenty-seven, and this was how it ended-in a sterile hospital room, alone, after giving everything she had for a man who didn't care.

In her final moments, she thought about how she had loved Vanicah deeply, how she had thrown away her birthright as the Autumn family's only daughter for him. But that love had led her here, to a tragic and lonely death.

Her vision blurred, and she let her eyes close for the last time. If she could do it over, she wouldn't make the same mistakes. She wouldn't choose him again.

Then, unexpectedly, she heard a voice. "Madam, Mr. Wayne wants to take you to the auction tonight. What would you like to wear?"

Keisha opened her eyes. It was Allie Lowe, her assistant. The scene around her was too familiar-it was Vanicah's mansion, their home. This was shortly after they got married, a time when she still believed they could have a real marriage.

But that was five years ago. What was happening? Was this some kind of dream, or had she been given another chance?

Allie held up a white gown, her expression hopeful. "This one, maybe?"

Keisha remembered how she used to dress in white because that's what Viole Stale, the woman Vanicah truly loved, always wore. She had foolishly tried to mimic Viole, hoping to catch Vanicah's eye.

But not this time. Keisha glanced at the dress, then shook her head. "No. I'll wear this instead," she said, picking out a bright red gown from the closet.

Allie looked concerned. "But Mr. Wayne prefers the white..."

Keisha smiled faintly, almost bitterly. "I don't care. Get rid of all the white dresses. I never liked them."

Allie hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "As you wish, Madam."

Keisha stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was still young, still beautiful. But she knew how this story ended if she followed the same path. She was determined to change it.

That evening, Keisha dressed in the crimson gown, the rich color accentuating her every curve. Her makeup was flawless, her hair styled into soft waves that framed her face. A beauty mark just below her eye added a touch of allure. She was striking, like a vision from a painting.

As she walked into the auction hall, she felt all eyes turn toward her, including those of Fern Lane, a man known for his sharp wit and even sharper tongue. He took in her appearance with keen interest.

"Who is that?" Fern asked, intrigued.

Vardy Foster, his friend and notorious playboy, grinned beside him. "That's Keisha Autumn, Vanicah Wayne' wife. But rumor has it Vanicah's here with another woman. We might just see some fireworks tonight."

Fern didn't reply, his attention fixed on Keisha as she moved gracefully through the crowd.

Inside the venue, Viole Stale clung nervously to Vanicah's arm, her white dress a stark contrast to the vibrant colors around her. "I'm not sure I should be here," she murmured, uncertainty in her voice.

Vanicah, ever composed, replied, "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending more of these in the future."

As they approached the main entrance, Vanicah's secretary, Larry Lewis, stepped forward. "Mr. Wayne, isn't Madam supposed to join you tonight?"

Vanicah's face hardened. "I told you to tell her not to come."

Larry glanced at Viole, who quickly interjected, "I asked Larry not to. I didn't want people talking about us. It seemed better for Keisha to accompany you instead."

Vanicah sighed, rubbing his temples. The last thing he wanted was Keisha showing up tonight.

"Mr. Wayne," Viole whispered, her voice tinged with worry.

"It's fine," Vanicah replied, though his irritation was clear. He turned to Larry. "Go outside and stop her. Make sure she's sent back home if you see her."

But before Larry could move, a ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

"It's too late," Larry said quietly, his eyes wide as he saw Keisha enter the hall.

Vanicah's eyes followed Larry's, narrowing as they both noticed the striking splash of red among the crowd. Keisha stood out in a wine-red gown that accentuated her every movement. Whether she smiled or furrowed her brow, every gesture seemed to captivate those around her. The media cameras focused on her as if she were a movie star on a red carpet.

It took Vanicah a moment to realize that the woman in red was Keisha. This was not the Keisha he was used to seeing-the Keisha who favored soft, understated colors and simple styles. Tonight, she was a revelation.

Beside him, Viole's face paled. This was her first time seeing Keisha in person, and the contrast between them was stark. Where Keisha exuded sophistication and allure, Viole seemed young, almost out of place, like a schoolgirl who had wandered into the wrong event.

"She's... beautiful," Viole murmured, unable to hide the tinge of envy in her voice.

Keisha had already spotted Vanicah and Viole. With calm composure, she walked toward them, her smile never faltering. Viole expected Keisha to be shocked or embarrassed upon seeing Vanicah with another woman, but Keisha's demeanor remained unruffled, as if she had anticipated this moment.

"Is that Mrs. Wayne? Then who's the girl beside Mr. Wayne?" one of the reporters whispered, adding to the murmur of curiosity that followed Keisha's every step.

When Keisha reached them, she slipped her hand into Vanicah's and turned to Viole with a gracious smile. "You must be Viole, the student Vanicah mentioned. I'm Keisha. You can call me Mrs. Wayne."

Viole, feeling the weight of the title Keisha had just introduced herself with, awkwardly released Vanicah's arm and shook Keisha's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wayne," she managed, though the words felt like a thorn in her throat.

"I hear you're planning to study abroad soon?" Keisha asked, her tone polite but distant.

Viole shot a nervous glance at Vanicah, who quickly intervened. "Viole is top of her class. She's set to study abroad this year, but she's a little nervous about it. I brought her here tonight to give her some exposure."

It was clear to Keisha that Vanicah hadn't yet fallen deeply for Viole. That would come later, after Viole returned from studying abroad. But even now, he was parading Viole around at events, making it obvious to everyone in Celest City that he had a particular interest in this young student.

None of it mattered to Keisha anymore. She wasn't here to compete for Vanicah's affection. She had a different goal tonight.

"Well then, Vanicah, do take care of Ms. Stale. I'll head inside," Keisha said, releasing his hand with a slight nod.

Vanicah blinked in surprise. This was not the reaction he expected from Keisha. By the time he recovered, she had already entered the auction hall, leaving him standing there, confused.

Since when had the fiery, defiant Keisha become so composed, so detached?

Keisha took a seat in a quieter corner of the hall. The room was filled with Celest's elite, all gathered for the auction. Keisha recalled that there was a piece of land on offer tonight, a neglected plot that no one seemed interested in. But she remembered its future-how a small business owner had bought it for a song and later turned it into a fortune when the surrounding area was developed. That land had become prime real estate, and the once-unknown businessman had risen to power because of it.

If she was going to leave Vanicah, Keisha needed to start planning for a future on her own terms.

Meanwhile, Vanicah was scanning the room, trying to locate Keisha. Viole, sitting beside him, noticed his distraction. "Mr. Wayne... Are you sure you want me to bid tonight?" she asked, trying to bring his focus back to her.

"Yes," Vanicah replied, his tone distant as his mind lingered on Keisha. "I trust your judgment."

Viole blushed with pride. She had worked hard for this moment, studying finance in anticipation of playing a bigger role in Vanicah's life.

From her seat on the second floor, Keisha watched Vanicah and Viole exchange quiet words, their heads close together. She knew that Viole had talent-that was one of the reasons Vanicah eventually fell for her. In her previous life, Viole had impressed Vanicah by securing a valuable piece of land at an auction just like this one. But Keisha also knew that the land was already valuable because of the Wayne' other developments in the area. Viole had simply pushed the price up with Vanicah's money, making it seem like a brilliant move.

The auction began, and Viole, bolstered by Vanicah's confidence in her, started bidding aggressively. She won three prime properties in quick succession, each time glancing at Vanicah for approval, which he gave readily.

"The New Moon Project, starting bid at one billion dollars," the auctioneer announced.

Without hesitation, Keisha's voice cut through the room. "Two billion."

Gasps rippled through the audience. Vanicah's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Keisha. What was she playing at?

Viole leaned in close, whispering, "That land isn't worth much. Keisha is going to lose a fortune on that bid."

Vanicah pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to Keisha. "What are you doing?"

Keisha glanced at the message on her phone, but she didn't respond.

"Two billion going once... Twice..." The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall.

Fern Lane, sitting a few rows behind Vanicah, raised his paddle. "Three billion."

Vardy Foster, sitting beside Fern, nearly choked on his drink. "Fern, have you lost your mind?"

Keisha's eyes flicked up to see who was challenging her bid. When she saw Fern, she frowned. Why was he interested in this piece of land? She vaguely recalled that Fern had connections to some shady industries, but since when had he started investing in real estate?

"Four billion," Keisha said calmly, raising the stakes.

Vanicah's frown deepened. He quickly typed another message. "Keisha, stop this right now."

Keisha didn't even glance at her phone this time. She turned it off and focused back on the auction.

"Five billion," Fern countered, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Keisha's temper flared. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, she'd play.

"Ten billion," she declared, her voice unwavering.

The room erupted in whispers. "She's lost it. No land is worth that much!"

Even Vanicah, usually composed, stood up in shock. What on earth was Keisha thinking?

Fern looked across at Keisha, his smirk widening. He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "I'm out."

"Ten billion going once... Twice... Sold!" the auctioneer announced, his gavel coming down with finality.

Keisha let out a breath, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. The land was hers, but she had spent far more than necessary thanks to Fern's meddling.

Vardy nudged Fern, laughing. "You're lucky she didn't jump across the room and throttle you. I know I would."

Fern just shrugged, unbothered by the ordeal.

Meanwhile, Viole tugged on Vanicah's sleeve. "Mr. Wayne, Keisha's going to bankrupt you at this rate."

Vanicah's expression was cold. "She made the bid. She'll deal with the consequences herself."