Chapter 7

There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap.

I knew he was waiting for me to back down.

In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times.

In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it.

Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see.

But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?”

Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is."

I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass.

He knew I was allergic to alcohol.

Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far.

The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time.

Crack.

It felt like I heard something shatter.

It was the ten years I had shared with Julian.

A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”

“Fine.”

I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face.

The sharp burn of alcohol scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red.

“Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!”

Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside.

Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage."

She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings.

"Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?"

"Not happening."

The alcohol still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin.

"Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?"

After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow.

Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me."

Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment.

"Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil."

His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him.

"Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing."

I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue.

Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet.

"Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!"

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The Dance of Vengeance

Chapter 7
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