The Revenge Pact

By Brooke Stanton

When her sneaky spouse starts screwing around with his ex, there's only one thing to do...

Eva Hart's dreams just went belly up. After marrying her dream guy and happily accepting the visa that came with the ring, she's more than a bit dismayed to discover the jerk is cheating. And since demanding a divorc

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coco and Bee
• Release date: Jun 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781735609973

Brooke Stanton

Brooke Stanton is the multiple award-winning and #1 bestselling author of the sexy romantic comedy series, Love Charades and Madly Bad at Love. And the steamy historical western series Forbidden Romance. Visit her website brookestantonbooks.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Eva

I fucked Joe last night.

The words drifted out of the bridal suite, slammed into my chest, and dropped like a stone into my gut.

Shut up, Ashley, came a second voice, lower, with a razor-sharp edge. Rachel Hoffman. My college roommate and bestie. 

I froze in the hotel corridor, too stunned to move. Ashley’s confession gripped me like a vise I couldn’t wrench myself out of.

If you ruin this day for Eva because you’re jealous, I’ll Samson and Delilah your hair. Rachel’s voice dripped with the threat. I’m not fucking kidding, Ash.

A sharp cramp pulled at the arch in my right foot, but I didn’t dare move for fear they’d hear the rustle of my ridiculously large Cinderella wedding dress, and I absolutely had to know if Ashley was telling the truth because: 

1. I was walking down the aisle in twenty minutes with the aforementioned Joe.

2. Ashley was Joe’s ex-girlfriend.

3. This wedding had to happen.

Why would I be jealous? Ashley purred. I’ve been fucking Joe for the past three months. He said Eva hasn’t spread her legs since they got engaged.

I gasped, and my hand flew to my mouth to cover the noise. Prickly heat spread over my bare shoulders, and I sucked down a tunnel of air, trying to clear the fog this bomb had exploded in my head.

Ashley and I had always tolerated each other, but we’d never been close. Rachel and she had grown up together and they both went to Syracuse University, where I’d been freshman roommates with Rachel. Rachel and I were instant besties, and since Ashley was already part of the group, we had no choice but to be friends.

When I met Joe, Ashley was dating some hotshot hockey player. I didn’t know Ashley and Joe had dated until later, but she said she didn’t care.

Obviously, she was a lying bitch.

Rachel kicked the bathroom door shut with her heel, and I flattened myself against the wall next to it, unseen.

Shitballs.

I pressed my ear against the door, but I couldn't hear a damn thing. There was an inch crack at the bottom, and I got down on my belly, my skirt billowing around me. I strained to listen, but all I heard were murmurs of voices. 

Rachel would be freaking out, trying to figure out how to shut Ashley down and save the day for me. Rachel and Ashley may have known each other longer, but Rachel was fiercely loyal to me (and I was to her).

My heart thundered behind the boning underneath the lace overlay of my dress. I glared at the closed door, debating what to do. I wanted to rip Ashley’s stupid black hair out of her stupid scalp.

The voices grew closer, and the doorknob turned. I scurried to the room across the hall and ducked inside, keeping the door open a crack.

Not a word, Rachel hissed, their dresses crinkling as they walked away. Say it.

Fine, Ashley grumbled, and then they were gone.

I shoved my billowing skirt through the doorway and crashed into the bridal suite. I circled the room, distress and confusion accosting all my senses, making it impossible to think clearly.

Moments ago I’d been in there getting ready with Rachel and my mom, laughing and joking, oblivious to the wreckage ahead.

The guests were outside on the great lawn, taking their places for the ceremony. Obviously, I should call off the wedding, except I couldn’t, because Joe and I did something really stupid.

We eloped five months ago. 

I was from Toronto and it had been my idea to get hitched early so I could start the application process for my citizenship before my green card expired.

It hadn’t made sense to let the green card lapse when we were so close to getting married. That’s why we went to city hall right after New Year's Eve.

No biggie. 

Except now it was a colossal biggie. If I walked out on this marriage right now, it could screw everything up. I was in a kind of limbo, waiting for the interview to prove our marriage was legit. Only after that would my U.S. citizenship be permanent and secure. Without it I could lose my job, my life, everything I’d worked for up until this moment of my life.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck fucking balls.

I tore at the buttons at the back of my bodice, but I couldn’t undo them. The corset was too tight. My air was constricted, and starbursts flashed in front of my eyes.

I screamed in frustration, yanking with all my might. But the damn dress wouldn’t budge.

Evelyn? a deep voice said behind me.

My spine went ramrod straight, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

Ethan Steele stepped into the room, and as he did, the walls closed in around me. 

He wore a morning suit and top hat, like some duke in a Regency drama. His dark eyebrows furrowed at the sight of me.

Air. I needed air.

My fingers clawed at the fabric, ripping it, but no air would come. My knees buckled, and Ethan leaned forward, catching me in his arms right before I hit the floor.

I wiggled in his grasp, hating him a little more than usual.

Stop fighting me. He gripped my shoulders and twisted me around, trying to guide me and my ginormous skirt over to the small settee.

Let go. I yanked out of his grip and fell face-first onto the cushions of the sofa, my hoop skirt lifting up and over my ass. 

You okay down there? Ethan asked above me, a smirk in his voice.  

I wore a lace thong, and I was flashing him my tanned ass, but I didn’t care. He could look all he wanted. It was the least of my worries. 

And it was a really good ass.

I shimmied to the ground and flipped over, lying on the floor and glaring at him, but then the whole not-being-able-to-breathe thing started again and I gripped my sides. His frown dropped, and he sank to his knees, pulling me up to a sitting position. 

What’s wrong, Evelyn? 

Stop acting—gasp—like you care—gasp—and help me—gasp—out of this. A dizzy spell overtook me, and I slumped sideways. 

Please, I whispered, the last scraps of my dignity floating away. I needed help, and I didn’t care who gave it to me.

Even the most despised man in my life.

Chapter 2

Eva

Ikneeled on the carpet, vulnerable and desperate. Two things I never wanted to be in front of the man who had tried to stop this wedding the moment Joe and I got engaged.

Ethan’s left arm circled my waist, and he yanked my back to his chest, settling my ass on his firm thighs. I bent forward, panting into the plush carpet.

The sounds of the pre-wedding classical music seeped into the room, and I squirmed, needing to get out of this dress so I could breathe but also needing to get to the ceremony.

Keep still, dammit. Ethan gripped me tighter, trying to tame me. His right hand slid up my back and popped open the line of buttons down the bodice, releasing my ribs from their cage.

He threw the top aside, and the brisk air wrapped around my bare abdomen and lace-clad breasts, cooling me instantly. I fell forward, swallowing large gulps of air.

Ethan hovered close by, his arms crossed, his face stern. What the fuck, Evelyn? Are you having cold feet?

No! I… My chin wobbled, and I clamped my jaw shut. 

I could do this. I could wipe the black streaks of mascara off my face, put my top back on, and get through today. If I didn’t go out there and act the part of the happy bride, it could majorly screw up my life.

My application could be put into the deny pile if someone found out I’d called off my wedding, despite being technically married. You can't hide shit these days.

Nope. No way. I would not let Asswipe Ashley ruin my life. At least, not in public.

Help me put this cage back on. I snatched the corset top to my nearly naked chest.

If Joe was a cheating scumbag, I’d deal with it. I solved problems every day of my life. It’s what I was good at. It gave me comfort.

I’d find a way out. Just not right now. 

I knelt before Ethan. His chestnut hair was disheveled from the effort of manhandling me, and he shoved his hands through it, arranging the pieces back in place.

My hoop skirt swallowed me up, which was good since the lace, strapless bra was nearly see-through. Ethan had been averting his eyes ever since he’d torn the bodice from my chest.

What’s this about? Ethan asked, but the edge in his voice had softened. His hands were warm and sure as he wrapped the corset around my ribs.

Wedding day jitters. I held it in place, and Ethan slid the buttons through the delicate satin hoops.

Bullshit, he said.  

I tensed, ignoring the soft touch of his finger pads as he dressed me. 

Why would I confide in you? I asked. You hate me. Anything I say you’ll run off and tell Joe. All I’m asking for is a moment of compassion. And to shut up about what you saw in here. 

Ethan silently continued buttoning. When he was done, he sat back on his heels.  

I don’t hate you, Evelyn, he said.

Despise. Hate. Loathe. Does it matter the verbiage? I shoved my heeled feet to standing and crossed my arms. By the way, the feeling is mutual.

You’ve made that clear on more than one occasion, he deadpanned.

I waved my hands back and forth, clearing the air between us. Let’s forget all that right now.

I swept to the door, Ethan jumping aside to make room for my excessive skirt. My hands gripped the doorjamb, a dizzy spell slamming into me.

I can’t do it, I whimpered. My breathing shallowed again, the fabric strangling my lungs.

Ethan placed firm hands on my upper arms and held tight to me. I didn’t even care that he saw the tears pricking my eyes. 

How was I going to look at Joe and fake it through this?

Can we have a truce? For five minutes, Ethan said, his bright blue eyes penetrating mine. Pretend I’m someone else. You won’t make it through the ceremony if you don’t release what’s upsetting you. You’re a mess.

Tears plopped onto my cheeks. 

What happened? he asked gently. His kindness was more unnerving than his usual indifference toward me.

I dabbed at my face with the heel of my palm. Ethan slid his lavender pocket square out of his formal jacket and handed it to me. I gently soaked up my tears. Crying helped, and I was breathing deeply again.

It’s Ashley. I overheard her. I… Tears fell again. She said she and Joe are…

I couldn’t say it. Not to Ethan. It was too humiliating.

Sleeping together, Ethan finished. 

You knew! Fury flared in my veins, and I shot my hands out, striking him in his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall. I shook my hands out and then struck him again, but this time he was ready and caught my wrists.

I tried to strike him, but he tightened his hold, and I winced. 

Stop that, he said, his voice low. I pulled back but he yanked my wrists, and I slammed into his chest, our hearts vibrating against each other’s ribs. 

Ethan’s eyes caught mine and we froze, lost in this weird tornado of anger and something else that was strange and completely unexpected.

He released me as if I’d scalded him, and I stumbled backward.

You knew he was fucking her? I hissed, steadying myself against the wall. 

His jaw ground under his skin. I suspected. But I didn’t know for sure.

Yeah, right, I scoffed.

If I’d known, I would’ve told you, he grumbled, his gaze searing hot.

Ha! I barked. I’m sure you would’ve run to me with the news.

It sounded sarcastic, but I meant it. If Ethan had a reason that would stop the wedding, he would’ve used it. He never wanted me to marry his oldest friend. I’d overheard him say it to Joe right after the engagement. Asking her to marry you is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. And you’ve done some stupid things.

And then they’d laughed like it was a big joke.

Now, we glared at each other, but then he ran his hand down his face and exhaled loudly, the tension releasing from his muscles. 

What do you need? he asked calmly. Do you want me to get Rachel? She’d be the best person to tell everyone the wedding is off.

The wedding isn’t off. I shoved several loose pieces of my honey-blonde hair back into my updo, regaining my composure.

Why would you marry him now? Ethan looked at me with disdain. He’s cheating on you. Have some self-worth.

I have worth, asshole, but there’s no point making a scene. I cut him with a sharp scowl. We’re already married.

The color drained from Ethan’s olive skin. What are you talking about?

We went to city hall a few months ago. Because of the green card issue. I walked to the mirror and wiped the river of mascara from my cheeks.

But—

Drop it, Ethan, I said. This won’t get fixed by stopping the ceremony. It’ll just cause a lot of unnecessary drama. The deed’s been done.

Ethan’s look of shock turned to something darker—pity, sorrow, disgust—I didn’t know, but I’d rather him loathe me than pity me.

You were wrong, by the way. I stepped toward him, my fingernail poking into his chest. Getting engaged to me wasn’t the stupidest thing Joe has ever done. 

The look of shock on Ethan’s face was totally worth the reveal. He had no idea that I’d heard him all those months ago when he’d shit all over my new engagement. 

I may not be able to get out of this dumpster fire today, I said, Ethan’s heart thundering in his chest under my finger.

I cocked the side of my mouth up, delighted I was getting to him.

But he’s gonna pay for this. You both are.

Chapter 3

Ethan

Eva was right. I never wanted her to marry Joe.

I had no idea why he fell so goddamn hard for her. She was boring and predictable. Since she’d met Joe, she’d planned and organized their lives into tidy boxes.

Tonight had been the first time I’d seen a hair out of place. Her meltdown was like watching a natural disaster. I was horrified and fascinated all at once.

Across the ballroom, Joe was dancing with the few remaining wedding guests to a disco song, while I sat at one of the empty round tables. It was past midnight, and most of the guests had retired.

Eva barely made it through the ceremony. Tears ran down her cheeks the entire time. A few guests commented that it was strange to see her so emotional. She usually held her cards close to her chest, not revealing what was behind that perfect facade.

After the speeches, she’d disappeared. Some story about bad fish. Obviously, it was an excuse to hide for the rest of the night.

She always had a contingency plan in place if things took an unexpected turn, but Joe fucking his ex-girlfriend was obviously not something she’d considered on her list of things that could go awry on her wedding day.

Joe collapsed in a chair next to one of his work friends, laughing and chugging his beer.

If my new wife had food poisoning, I’d be with her, not closing down the party. He hadn’t checked on her once.

Scoot. Rachel, Eva’s maid of honor, pulled the seat out next to me.

She was clad in her black lace bridesmaid dress and her pastel-pink hair had fallen out of her topknot and lay in a curly mess around her shoulders.

I liked Rachel. She was a bit off-the-wall, but you always knew where you stood with her.

I thought you left hours ago, I said.

Rachel adjusted the pink bra strap that had fallen down her shoulder and tucked her bare foot under her thigh.

I was with Eva in the room. She’s a wreck, so I gave her a Valium and now she’s sleeping.

Because of the food poisoning? I asked, feigning ignorance.

No, you idiot. Because Joe is banging Ashley.

I choked on my sip of scotch.

I know you helped her earlier, Rachel said, crossing her arms and eyeing me suspiciously. I’m surprised you didn’t leave her there and go high-five your boy.

Fuck him. I ground my teeth together.

Rachel widened her eyes, surprised at my response.

"So you did know he was cheating."

No. I glowered. "But I’ve learned a few things about my boy recently. So I wasn’t surprised."

Rachel turned fully toward me. What the hell are you talking about?

Shit. Why had I said that?

Nothing, I grumbled into my drink.

Oh, hell no. You don’t get to drop that grenade and then shut down. You owe it to Eva to confess if you knew something about Joe. You shit on her from the moment you met her, and guess what? It’s Joe who turned out to be the asshole.

I glared at the stained, white tablecloth.

Joe met Eva during my last year at Syracuse University, but I was already living in Manhattan. I’d been hired at a small financial company to help design their new app and was finishing up my degree online at night while I worked during the day.

Joe had graduated from his trade school two years prior and was working for a contractor in Syracuse, managing a new build, when he met Eva.

She was also a senior at Syracuse, but I’d never met her until I came up one weekend to visit Joe.

I joined them at a house party, and everyone was laughing and drinking but Eva, who sat in a corner working on her resume.

That wasn’t a big deal, but Joe is an affectionate and big-hearted guy, and Eva barely acknowledged him all night.

The entire weekend Joe padded around her like a puppy dog, eager for any attention she threw at him, but she was cold and aloof.

Everything had to be her way, and I was shocked that Joe went along. She’d planned out their entire future after one month. It was unnerving.

Women were usually all over Joe. He worked out like it was his job, and there was something about the rugged-construction-worker thing that made women go wild.

Eva didn’t seem to care about any of that, and I wondered why she was with him at all.

I understood why Joe was with her.

It was ironic, but her indifference was intoxicating to Joe. He came across as self-assured and confident,