Updated Nov 26, 2025 • ~7 min read
Ruby arrived thirty minutes later with wine and murder in her eyes.
“Show me the contract,” she demanded, bursting into Lizzie’s office like an avenging angel in leather boots and a vintage band tee.
Lizzie handed it over silently. She’d been reading and re-reading it for the past half hour, looking for traps, loopholes, hidden agendas. So far, it seemed legitimate. Almost too legitimate.
Ruby scanned the pages, her expression darkening with each clause. “This is manipulative as hell.”
“I know.”
“He’s using his own disaster to rope you back into his life.”
“I know.”
“You should tell him to fuck off and let him crash and burn alone.”
“I know.”
Ruby looked up sharply. “But you’re considering it anyway.”
Lizzie leaned back in her chair, exhausted. “Is that so terrible?”
“Yes! Lizzie, this man destroyed you. He married your sister at your wedding. He humiliated you in front of the entire world. And now he wants you to help him?”
“For a million dollars.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“Easy to say when you have it.” Lizzie stood, pacing to the window. “I’m rebuilding from nothing, Ruby. My reputation is permanently linked to the worst day of my life. Every client, every meeting, every pitch—they all see the jilted bride first and the designer second. This could change that.”
“Or it could destroy you all over again.”
“How? I’d have complete control. He has to do whatever I say. Show up where I tell him, say what I script, play the apologetic ex trying to make amends.” She turned to face Ruby. “For six months, Oliver Richardson would be at my mercy. Tell me that doesn’t sound satisfying.”
Ruby’s expression softened slightly. “It does. But satisfaction isn’t worth your mental health.”
“I’m not that fragile anymore. The girl he left at the altar is gone.” Lizzie crossed her arms. “I spent eleven months putting myself back together. I’m stronger now. Harder. And I want this.”
“Want what? Revenge?”
“Justice.” The word felt right. “He took everything from me. My future, my happiness, my sense of self. And he gets to walk away with a slap on the wrist? His company tanks and he loses his CEO position—so what? He’ll still be a billionaire. He’ll still have options. While I’m stuck being ‘that bride’ forever.”
“So this is about getting even.”
“This is about getting ahead. Using him the way he used me. Taking his money, his connections, his public humiliation and turning it into something that benefits me.” Lizzie picked up the contract. “This isn’t me being weak. This is me being strategic.”
Ruby studied her for a long moment. “If you do this, you need to be smart about it.”
“I will be.”
“No, I mean really smart. Get your own lawyer to review this. Add clauses to protect yourself. Make sure there’s no way he can use this against you later.”
Lizzie nodded. “Already planned to call Mitchell.”
Mitchell was her lawyer—a sharp woman who’d handled Lizzie’s lease negotiations and business setup. If anyone could find hidden traps in Oliver’s contract, it was her.
“And you need an exit strategy,” Ruby continued. “A real one. If this starts affecting you negatively, you bail. I don’t care if it’s only been a week. You protect yourself first.”
“Deal.”
“And I’m checking in with you constantly. Daily. If I think you’re backsliding, getting hurt, falling for his bullshit again—”
“I won’t,” Lizzie interrupted firmly. “I don’t love him anymore, Ruby. I don’t even like him. He’s just a means to an end.”
“You say that now.”
“I mean it now.”
Her phone buzzed. Mitchell, returning her call from earlier.
“I have to take this,” Lizzie said. Ruby nodded, settling into a chair with the contract.
Lizzie explained the situation to Mitchell, reading through the key clauses. Her lawyer listened in silence, then asked her to send over the full document.
“I’ll review it tonight,” Mitchell said. “But Lizzie, from what you’re describing, this is highly unusual. Are you sure you want to tie yourself to this man again? Even in a fake capacity?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then I’ll make sure you’re protected. Give me two hours.”
While Mitchell worked, Lizzie and Ruby ordered takeout and brainstormed additional terms. Ruby, it turned out, was vicious when it came to contract negotiations.
“Public apology,” Ruby said, writing notes. “Specific, detailed, from him. Taking full responsibility.”
“Obviously.”
“And he has to attend any event you choose. Including ones he’d hate.”
“Like?”
Ruby grinned. “Charity auctions. Family dinners. Ruby’s extremely long and boring art talks.”
Lizzie laughed despite herself. “You’re evil.”
“I’m protective. Add in a clause about social media—he has to post about you, but you approve all content first.”
“Done.”
“And if he steps out of line, if he says or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, you can terminate immediately and keep all the money.”
“That’s already in there.”
“Make it stronger. Add penalties. If he violates any term, he pays you more.”
They worked through dinner, building a list of demands that would make Oliver’s six months absolutely miserable while benefiting Lizzie maximally. By the time Mitchell called back, they had a full page of additions.
“The contract is solid,” Mitchell said. “Surprisingly airtight from a legal standpoint. But I’m adding your new terms and a few protective clauses of my own. You should have the revised version in an hour.”
“Will he agree to the new terms?”
“If he’s as desperate as you say? Yes. And if he doesn’t, you don’t want the deal anyway.”
The revised contract came through at 7:15 PM. Lizzie read through it carefully, checking every addition, every protection, every clause that would give her power over Oliver.
This was it. Her chance for revenge disguised as rehabilitation.
At 7:45 PM, she called Oliver.
He answered on the first ring. “Lizzie.”
“I have terms,” she said without preamble.
“I’m listening.”
She listed them, one by one. The expanded public apology. The mandatory appearances. The social media requirements. The increased penalties for violations. The absolute authority over all narrative decisions.
Oliver listened in silence. When she finished, he said, “Agreed.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” His voice was quiet, resigned. “I told you I was at your mercy. I meant it.”
Lizzie felt a surge of satisfaction. “I’ll need the revised contract signed by tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll sign it tonight. Where do you want to meet for the signing?”
“My lawyer’s office. Nine AM. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
“And Oliver?” She paused, making sure he understood. “This doesn’t change anything between us. This is business. You follow my rules, play your part, and after six months we never speak again. Understood?”
“Understood.”
She hung up without saying goodbye.
Ruby was watching her with an expression somewhere between concern and admiration. “You really did it.”
“I really did.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
Lizzie thought about the altar. The cameras. The humiliation. The eleven months of hiding and healing and hardening herself into someone new.
“I’m sure.”
“Then let’s make him pay.”
They toasted with cheap wine in Lizzie’s office, plotting the next six months with the gleeful energy of two women who’d been wronged and were finally getting their revenge.
The next morning, Lizzie arrived at Mitchell’s office at 8:55 AM, dressed in a black power suit that made her feel invincible. Oliver was already there, looking like he’d slept even less than she had.
The signing took fifteen minutes. Mitchell walked them through each clause, ensuring they both understood. Oliver signed without hesitation. When Lizzie added her signature next to his, she felt a dark thrill.
This was happening. This was real.
“The money will be wired today,” Oliver said quietly as they stood to leave.
“Good.” Lizzie gathered her things, avoiding his eyes. “Our first public appearance is tomorrow night. The anniversary gala at the Plaza.”
Oliver’s jaw tightened—she saw the recognition in his eyes. The anniversary gala was where they’d met three years ago. Where he’d asked if she believed in love at first sight.
Perfect.
“I’ll meet you there,” she said. “Eight PM. Don’t be late.”
As she walked out of Mitchell’s office, her phone pinged with a notification. Wire transfer received: $1,000,000.00.
Lizzie smiled.
Let the games begin.
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