Her Perfect Betrayal

Chapter 2

Raphael Foster jolted awake at the sound of a familiar voice.

“You’d better move! I’m going to a party. Jake is waiting downstairs for me.”

“Being my husband doesn’t give you the right to control me or trap me in this marriage. Now, get out of my way!”

Raphael blinked repeatedly as his vision slowly cleared.

Dorothy stood before him in an elegant black dress that perfectly complemented her figure. Diamond earrings glittered beneath her carefully styled hair, while her flawless makeup made her look exactly as she had twenty years ago.

Beautiful and poisonous.

The moment Dorothy noticed Raphael standing in front of the entrance, she frowned impatiently.

Raphael stared at her, unable to speak. His mind was in chaos.

Where am I? Hadn’t I already died?

For several seconds, he remained frozen, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the luxurious apartment, illuminating the polished marble floors and expensive furnishings.

Then his breathing became uneven. He knew this place.

It was the apartment where he and Dorothy had lived during the early years of their marriage.

Slowly, Raphael lowered his gaze.

A bouquet of fresh red roses rested in his hands.

Tucked among the flowers was a neatly written birthday card.

Happy Birthday, Dorothy. With love, Raphael.

Raphael froze.

A sharp memory suddenly struck him and his heart began pounding violently.

“No…”

He quickly snatched his phone from the coffee table and stared at the date. His eyes widened.

Twenty years. He had returned twenty years into the past. He had truly been reborn!

Today was Dorothy's twenty-fourth birthday, exactly six months before the apocalypse began.

In his previous life, he had spent weeks preparing for this day. He had reserved the finest private room in the city's most luxurious restaurant. He had personally arranged a candlelit dinner and ordered every dish Dorothy loved.

He had even bought her an expensive necklace. And, of course, he had carried those very roses, waiting for hours but Dorothy never came.

At first, Raphael had been worried. He had called her repeatedly, but she never answered. Unable to shake the feeling that something terrible had happened, he had rushed home.

Instead, he had found Dorothy standing before the mirror in an elegant evening gown, carefully applying her makeup.

She had been preparing to meet Jake Ashford.

When Raphael questioned her, she had casually told him that she was only going to meet some old classmates. And he had believed her.

He had even apologized for suspecting her.

Now, remembering it, Raphael almost laughed. “What an idiot I was.”

For twenty years, he had never seriously questioned Dorothy.

Even when the five children she claimed were his showed absolutely no resemblance to him, he had convinced himself that children simply inherited different features.

How laughable.

His mind drifted toward the Brooks family.

Year after year, Raphael had supported them financially.

Dorothy's father drank himself unconscious almost every day before demanding money from him. Her mother was addicted to gambling, constantly borrowed from loan sharks, and secretly abused drugs.

Her younger brother spent his days fighting, stealing, and running with street gangs, yet whenever he got into trouble, Raphael was expected to clean up the mess.

Raphael had paid their debts, covered their mistakes, bought them houses, cars, and businesses.

Then the apocalypse arrived.

The world descended into chaos almost overnight.

Cities collapsed. Governments lost control, and millions of people died.

During those terrifying days, Dorothy had cried in Raphael's arms.

“Please, save my family first.”

Without hesitation, Raphael had agreed.

He had diverted his rescue team toward the Brooks family, risking everything to make sure they survived.

By the time he finally returned to the Foster estate, it was too late.

His parents and younger sister were dead.

The people who had genuinely loved him until the very end had died while waiting for him.

That regret had haunted Raphael throughout the rest of his life.

And what had he received in return?

Betrayal, humiliation, and ultimately, a cruel death.

Raphael looked down at the roses in his hands and his fingers slowly tightened around the bouquet until the delicate flowers were crushed.

The affection he had once carried for Dorothy disappeared completely, replaced with disgust, hatred, and an overwhelming desire for revenge.

He had spent twenty years loving the wrong woman and sacrificing everything for people who had never deserved his kindness.

He had truly been a pitiful fool blinded by love! How disgusting!

Raphael's gaze turned cold. "This time, neither of you will escape the price you deserve!"