His Perfect Trap, My Perfect Revenge

Chapter 8

Without a word, he snatched a wine bottle from the table and smashed it over the head of the man pinning Chelsea down.

"Who the hell—" The guy spun around, clutching his bleeding scalp, but the anger drained from his face the second he recognized who stood before him. "Mr. Colon?"

"Get out." Magnus's voice was ice.

The four men didn't need telling twice. They scrambled from the room like rats from a burning building.

When Magnus turned back to the couch, his breath caught. Chelsea sat trembling, tears streaking her cheeks, her clothes nearly torn off. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Just as he bent to lift her, a voice cut through the silence.

"Magnus, what are you doing?" Sabrina's confusion was palpable.

"Yeah, Magnus," Michaela chimed in, stepping forward with a frown. "We agreed to wait until they finished and then release the photos and videos. Why'd you interrupt?"

Chelsea went rigid.

So he knew.

He'd known the whole time. The trap. The setup. The plan. And he'd been part of it.

Fresh tears blurred her vision.

"There are other ways to get what we want," Magnus said flatly. "This ends now."

He reached for her again—

"Ahh!" A sharp cry pierced the air. Sabrina doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"Sabrina? What's wrong?" Michaela rushed to her side.

"I—I think it's just cramps," Sabrina gasped, tears welling as she looked pleadingly at Magnus. "Maybe... my period. Magnus, please—take me to the hospital?"

He hesitated, torn, his gaze flickering between her and Chelsea, who sat motionless, her eyes hollow.

"What are you waiting for?" Michaela snapped. "Sabrina's in pain! You should be rushing her to the ER!"

Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed his arm and steered him toward the door with Sabrina.

Magnus cast one last glance at Chelsea—still frozen, broken—before walking away.

As the door clicked shut, Michaela turned back, her lips curling in disdain. "Don't blame us for this," she sneered. "You're the one who forced my brother into marrying you."

With a cold laugh, she strutted out, heels clicking, leaving Chelsea utterly alone.

The room spun. Chelsea didn't move. She stared blankly at the kaleidoscope of lights on the ceiling, her heart in shards. Time blurred until the door creaked open again.

Alaric.

Something hadn't sat right after he'd left earlier. The look in Chelsea's eyes—something was off. Unease had gnawed at him until he turned back.

He'd arrived in time to see Magnus smash that bottle. He'd stayed silent, watching everything unfold.

The rumors about their picture-perfect marriage? Lies. All lies.

Wordlessly, Alaric sent for fresh clothes. But when the staff member went to help Chelsea change, a scream tore through the room.

Alaric burst in—and froze.

Blood. So much blood. Chelsea sat motionless in the middle of it, dazed.

His heart lurched. In one fluid motion, he scooped her into his arms and raced to the hospital.

Unseen, a camera captured the moment he carried her away.

Chelsea had lost the baby.

Now, sitting vigil by her hospital bed, Alaric gripped her hand. "Chelsea," he said softly. "Magnus doesn't love you. Come with me instead."

At Magnus's name, she finally stirred, turning hollow eyes toward him.

"My flight leaves tomorrow night," he added. "Let's go. I'll take you home."

That word—home—shattered whatever was left inside her. She clutched the blanket and sobbed, great, heaving cries that shook the bed.

———

The next morning, after handling her discharge, Alaric drove Chelsea back to the Colon estate.

Stepping through the doorway, she felt nothing. The house that had once been hers now felt alien. Numbness gave way to cold clarity.

Ignoring the staff's questions, she marched straight to the bedroom. Methodically, she pulled a suitcase from the closet and packed.

Not another minute. Not another second in this house.

These walls had held her love for Magnus. Now they echoed with his betrayal.

When the last item was packed, she paused, surveying the room she'd lived in for three years. Then she turned and walked out—without a backward glance.

Alaric waited outside. Together, they left.

At the airport, just before boarding, Chelsea pulled out her phone. She sent Magnus one final message—and scheduled a video upload.

Then she powered it off and dropped it into the trash.

Chelsea: Magnus, if you ever learn the truth about that video, will you still love Sabrina?

As the plane ascended, the city lights twinkled below.

But the light in Chelsea's heart?

It went out for good.

From that moment on, she and Magnus would never cross paths again.