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The Sweet Poison Of Revenge
Victory Storm
Victory Storm
THE SWEET POISON OF REVENGE
Victory Storm
Text copyright © 2020 Victory Storm
http://www.victorystorm.com
Translator (ita --> eng): Maria Burnett Publisher: Tektime
Cover: Victory Storm's graphic design - Stock: https://stock.adobe.com
This is a work fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or disseminated by any means, photocopies, microfilm or otherwise, without the author's permission.
THE SWEET POISON OF REVENGE
Zane Thunder is wealthy, charming, single, desired by many, and at the head of the Thunder Company, one of the most famous and respected advertising agencies in Chicago. In life, he always had to struggle but, in the end, he managed to get everything he wanted. Everything except Audrey. The only woman he ever loved and who betrayed him, destroying his happiness. Audrey Larson lost everything. Her happy life ended with the divorce from the only man she ever loved, Zane.
When they separated, her descent into hell started, but just when it seems like she had lost everything, Zane reappears in her life.
It has been four years since the last time they met.
Will these years make her forget and start a new page, or will their meeting only rekindle old grudges and the need for revenge that has been there all along?
1
Audrey
"Great job, Miss Larson," Peter Anderson mumbled quickly, seeing me run back to the kitchen to take yet another order to take to the table.
“Thanks,” I whispered excited for the compliment, before leaving for the elegant dining room of the prestigious restaurant, my hands loaded with dishes.
"I cannot believe it. Anderson just complimented you. You can now consider yourself hired! Congratulations, Audrey!” My colleague Sharon exclaimed in a low voice, as I was trying to avoid running into her, moving towards the tables assigned to me.
That day Prestige was full.
All the tables were taken, except one.
The bar counter was crowded and everywhere there were people coming and going in every direction.
The risk of colliding with someone was extremely high.
A risk that I absolutely could not afford.
That was my third day at work as a waitress for Prestige and it would have been my last trial day before deciding whether to hire me permanently or let me go if I was not suitable for the job at the restaurant.
Actually, I never wanted to be a waitress.
I was a Marketing graduat e with a concentration in Administration and Public Relationship.
In addition, I had studied advertising.
That had always been my world.
I had worked for advertising agencies all my life, until my divorce and my transfer to Gatesville to be near my father, who ended up in a wheelchair after a terrible stroke that had paralyzed him from the neck down.
Now I was back in Chicago, that I considered my city, the place where all my dreams had always come true.
However, I had soon discovered that, due to the four years I spent far away, many doors were now closed to me.
After years in Gatesville to take care of my only parent who was still alive, Chicago had changed.
Now requests, experiences, and competitiveness had reached levels that made my reintegration into what had always been my job almost impossible.
Seemingly, nobody cared if I had planned and organized prestigious advertising campaigns. The only thing that everyone stopped to look at was that four-year-old interval during which I had been cut off from the working world.
And now, here I was, being a waitress in a luxury restaurant, surrounded by buildings that gathered the offices of some of the largest advertising and IT companies in the city.
I had looked for work desperately after my father's death, overwhelmed by healthcare costs yet to be paid.
All my savings and money inherited from my father were gone.
The only thing left for me to do was to go back to work in Chicago, the only city I knew and that could offer me job opportunities that a small town like Gatesville could never give me.
Because of my financial problems, I had not been able to wait to find the perfect job, so I had to really search and in the end I had decided to find a job that would allow me to get in touch with the upscale world, without showing it .
Being a waitress at Prestige meant this to me.
It was not only the beautiful uniforms that made me feel at ease, but it was the possibility to meet the new owners of the advertising world that had aroused my interest.
Now the only thing I had to do was pass the three-day trial period and get that job, in order to pay the house rent, I had three-months in arrears, and I needed to start probing the ground for my future.
That day I knew that I had made the right choice.
While serving drinks as well as elaborate and tasty dishes, I overheard extremely interesting conversations: a certain Savannah, annoyed by the advertising work she had requested for her cosmetics line, a creative director who had resigned leaving the Marshall Company in a difficult situation, since they did not know now how to satisfy the requests of new customers, a certain Farlight who was discussing with a woman his desire to revamp his liqueur’s brand logo ...
In short, in front of me, I had infinite possibilities of getting a hold of the right customer and getting a job in public relations of an advertising company in exchange for some of the tips I had learnt.
I knew very well there were those who would pay handsomely for that information.
I felt in seventh heaven. Despite the effort of that large and demanding clientele, always in a hurry, I had not slowed down or wished for a break.
"Bring this to table seven," Anderson suddenly ordered, handing me a tray full of appetizers.
That was the last of the free tables.
I looked at the clock.
A few more hours and my day at work would be done.
Zigzagging between a table and another, between a client and a colleague, I arrived at the tables assigned to me, but just as I quickly turned to the right to avoid the dog of a client who had lost control of it, I suddenly found myself facing a figure in black.
Before I could turn or focus my gaze on what was happening, I felt the tray crash abruptly against that obstacle, knocking all the glass goblets to the ground, which shattered in a thousand pieces.
“Oh, my God!” I whispered in desperation, in front of the carpet of broken glass, while my eyes went up on the silhouetted figure in front of me. “I'm ... I am sorry ... I did not see you ... The dog distracted me and ...,” I continued to sputter in shock, looking at the man’s white shirt, now completely soaked and stained by several drinks.
I was continuing to babble apologies, when I finally had the courage to look up and meet the man’s furious look.
Suddenly I experienced a rapid heartbeat.
As soon as my eyes met his blue ones, I could not catch my breath and was not able to compose myself for several seconds.
"Zane," I uttered, still unable to breathe, while every part of my body that had been touched and kissed by him in the past seemed to awaken.
"Audrey," he replied dryly and annoyingly.
"What are you doing here?" I managed to ask, unable to think about anything else except that unlucky coincidence, which might only lead to two things: risking to lose my job and bring back the memories of our married life together that I had tried for four years to erase from memory.
"Mr. Thunder, I am mortified," the owner of the place uttered immediately, followed by two other workers who had come to clean up the damage immediately and to remove the glass from the floor before it could harm anyone.
"Anderson, I thought you were more careful in choosing your employees," Zane hissed sternly, wiping his jacket and shirt with a napkin.
That sentence hit me like a punch in the stomach.
I remembered that unyielding, harsh tone when he was after something.
I stared in perplexity at my ex-husband and what I saw made me feel like I was hovering over a precipice.
He kept looking at me as he spoke to my boss.
What I read there was not mere irritation, but also a veiled satisfaction masked by a smile at the sound of Anderson's words when I tried to fix the damage.
“I apologize for what happened. If I can do something ...” I tried to say, trying not to think how much it was costing me to apologize to the one who had destroyed our marriage.
“Miss Larson, there is only one thing you can do: take your stuff and get out of here. Immediately,” Anderson replied furiously, without even looking at me.
Oh no! I had just lost my job!
Shocked and unable to react, I took one last look at Zane.
He was not smiling, but he had a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.
"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" I figured out at some point. "I need this job," I added, despite his silence.
“How dare you? Get out of here! Did you hear me, or do I need to call the police?” My ex-boss intervened, stepping between me and Zane.
"I'm leaving," I surrendered destroyed.
Four years had passed since the divorce, from the day Zane had managed to win and take away everything, everything I had.
After all that time, I had hoped that my fortune had changed and instead ...
Zane had won again.
He just got me fired.
I was sure: that confrontation had been intentional.
Hurriedly, I went to the back, took off my uniform and emptied my locker.
I did not even notice that I had started to cry.
Mine was a cry of frustration, anger, fear, disappointment, and bitterness ... They were tears of defeat.
Seeing Zane had troubled me a lot. Even too much. Much more than I could have imagined.
I had not seen him for years, and when I decided to go back to Chicago, I knew his ad agency was located north of the city, so I set out to never go over there.
In fact, I had looked for a house in the south and a job in the south-west.
I had hoped never to meet him, even though I had always repeated that after all those years I felt nothing more for him, except a cold and sincere indifference.
I wiped my tears.
Audrey, he is no longer your husband and he can no longer hurt you.
Running, I took my things and ran away from the restaurant, without saying goodbye to anyone.
"Audrey." I heard Zane's hoarse voice behind me. To hear my name spoken by his voice was pure poison to my heart.
I turned and saw him.
He too had exited Prestige.
"Isn't it enough for you to get me fired? What else do you want, Zane? Wasn't it enough for you to have taken everything away from me four years ago?” I burst out furiously, trying to stop my tears.
"Did I take everything away from you?" He growled, approaching me so much that I could feel his breath on my skin and his distinct scent.
I could not answer, I was too stunned by his closeness and by the sensations the smell of his skin always managed to unleash.
Why couldn't I forget your perfume?
How was it possible that, after so many years, his scent still managed to make me a prisoner as it once did?
