His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 26

His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 26

When Amelia left the red-brick house on Beacon Hill, both Griffin and Daphne thought they had won. They could finally enjoy their lives without interference, a relationship full of drama, passion, and mutual need.

But when the champagne bubbles of victory faded, reality began to show its rough edges.

At a sailing race after-party in Nantucket, Daphne felt neglected because Griffin had chatted a little too long with a potential donor. In front of everyone, she shook off his hand and dramatically turned to leave, expecting him to immediately chase after her and soothe her anger with a humble apology, as he had countless times before.

But Griffin just stood where he was, tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose.

He did follow her, but not to apologize.

“Daphne, don’t do this.” His voice carried an unprecedented impatience. “We’re in public. Can you stop being so willful?”

“Willful?” Daphne spun back as if her tail had been stepped on. “I just want your attention! You never treated me this way before!”

“Before?” Griffin almost blurted it out, the words like a poisoned knife he hadn’t expected to wield. “When Amelia was here, she never made me deal with scenes like this. Why can’t you be a little more mature, like her?”

The air froze.

Daphne’s face went deathly pale, not from sadness, but from the ultimate humiliation of being compared to her own substitute.

That name, Amelia, was like a ghost crawling from the grave to stand between them.

From that day on, a strange switch seemed to flip. Griffin began comparing them uncontrollably.

In the past, he had found Daphne’s dramatic personality charming and full of life. Now, he only found it draining.

When he had to travel to Europe for business, Daphne would just scroll through Net-a-Porter and list the limited-edition handbags she wanted, treating him like a walking credit card. Amelia… Amelia would have had everything prepared a week in advance, from ironed shirts to noise-canceling headphones. She never demanded anything. She would only ask, “Will you be too tired?”

Late at night, when he came home from a club smelling of alcohol, Daphne would complain from the master bedroom, telling him to be quiet and not disturb her beauty sleep. Amelia… no matter how late it was, there would always be a lamp left on for him, and a glass of warm water on the table. She would wait quietly, help him take off his coat, listen to him complain about work, and then embrace him silently.

Every inconvenience in his life seemed to have begun after Amelia’s lawyer sent over those divorce papers. Griffin no longer found Daphne’s tantrums cute. He only found her selfish, vain, and endlessly demanding.

Daphne keenly sensed the change. Griffin’s gaze no longer centered on her. His patience was visibly draining. The charm she had once been so proud of, her ability to so easily stir his emotions, was failing. The feeling of being held in the palm of his hand was gone, replaced by the irritation of being constantly examined and criticized.

She couldn’t bear the difference.

At that moment, Zack, the band vocalist she had dated in college, a man who reeked of cheap cologne and reckless indulgence, reappeared in her life. Zack couldn’t give her the luxurious life she wanted, but he could give her what she now craved most: undisguised obsession, unconditional attention, and the thrill of transgression.

She began secretly meeting Zack behind Griffin’s back in inconspicuous motels in Back Bay.

Griffin knew nothing. His mind had long since moved on from Daphne. He even thought her recent lack of arguments meant she had “finally become sensible.”

When news of Amelia’s return to Boston reached him through a friend’s Instagram story, he froze. His thoughts drifted even further from Daphne, toward the woman he had pushed away with his own hands.

Daphne also learned that Amelia had returned. The first thing she thought of was the scene at the gallery, of Julian Mercer shielding Amelia from the crowd.

That was the first time she had lost so thoroughly in a social setting.

Then came Griffin’s endless comparisons over the past few months, those heart-stabbing words: “Why can’t you be like Amelia?”

A pawn who should have been trampled under her feet, a substitute he had once dismissed, had now become the one he couldn’t forget.

And now, she was back.

Daphne looked at her reflection in the mirror, her face slightly distorted by jealousy, her nails digging into her palms.

Since Amelia had come back, Daphne would have to make her pay.