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The Art of Revenge

Marital Rape

Ch. 8 / 166 Dec 24, 2025

Lunch was, once again, on Xavier. They'd treated themselves to a fancy meal at one of the swankiest hotels in Vernon.

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Afterward, Serena leaned back in her chair, rubbing her stomach and letting out a loud burp, completely unbothered by appearances.

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Across the table, Xavier just grinned, clearly amused.

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"I swear, the real Serena is finally back. The one I saw with Clint? That wasn't you-she was way too humble, like she forgot who she was." He reached across the table and offered his hand. "Welcome back, Serena Knowles."

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Serena blinked, pushing down the emotions rising in her chest, and shook his hand. "Thanks. Let that humble version of me rot in hell."

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The next day, Serena waited... and waited. But the divorce agreement still hadn't shown up.

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She frowned. It shouldn't take this long-couriers within Vernon could deliver in a couple of hours, max.

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Clint had been so desperate to marry Poppy, right? So why the hell was it taking two whole days?

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Tired of waiting, she finally picked up her phone and called.

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After a few rings, he answered, voice flat. "What is it?"

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Serena let out a dry laugh. This man wasn't even trying to pretend anymore.

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Even when he didn't love her, he'd at least still call her by name. Now? Not even that.

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"Just wondering why the divorce papers haven't shown up. I'm ready to sign, you know."

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There was a pause before he said, "I'm in a meeting. We'll talk later." Then he hung up.

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"Hey!" Serena glared at her phone, fuming. "Are you serious right now?! You couldn't wait to divorce me before, but now that I'm ready to move on, you're stalling?!"

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The more she thought about it, the more pissed she got. She grabbed her purse and stormed out.

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When she arrived at Beckett Corp, Clint was still in a meeting. His secretary recognized her and let her wait in his office.

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It was just past one in the afternoon, and the quiet, air-conditioned room started to make her sleepy.

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Her eyes drooped... and before she knew it, she was out cold on the couch.

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She didn't know how long she'd been asleep when something cool brushed her cheek.

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Serena's eyes flew open-and suddenly she was face-to-face with Clint.

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"Ahhh!" she shrieked, scrambling up like a startled squirrel.

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Clutching the armrest for space between them, she glared. "What are you, a cat? You sneak in without making a sound now?!"

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Clint stood there with his hands on his hips, clearly amused. "Last I checked, this is my office. Why would I need to announce myself? And you were sleeping-what, was I supposed to wake you?"

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"You-" Serena instinctively pulled her collar tighter. "Since when do you care if I'm asleep or not?"

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But that tiny move flipped a switch in Clint.

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Before she could react, he stepped forward, looming over her.

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"W-what are you doing?!"

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"What do you think I'm doing?" he said, eyes narrowing as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

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"Clint, seriously?! We-"

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"We what? We're still married. You're still my wife. This is part of your wifely duties."

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"You're disgusting!" Serena snapped-and without thinking, kicked him hard in the thigh.

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Clint flinched, groaning in pain, and she used the chance to duck under his arm and put space between them.

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"Ever heard of marital rape, you jerk?!"

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"Marital-what?" Clint stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "You've changed."

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"Oh please," she scoffed. "Changed how? Wasn't I always like this?"

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"No. The old you wouldn't talk to me like this. You wouldn't reject me, wouldn't fight back..."

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Serena laughed bitterly. "Let me remind you, Mr. Beckett, I used to love you. I respected you. I treated you like my husband. But you didn't care-you threw all that away for Poppy. So why should I keep playing the devoted little wife? What, you think after the divorce I'm gonna stick around and act like nothing's changed?"

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"Divorce," Clint repeated, voice lower now, like the word stung. "You really seem excited about it."

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"I'm not the one who pushed for it in the first place, remember? That was all you."

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Clint didn't say anything. He just kept staring at her, eyes searching her face like he was trying to read something that wasn't written there.

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The silence started to feel heavy, uncomfortable.

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"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, crossing her arms.

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"You're my wife. Am I not allowed to look at my wife?"

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"...!" Serena nearly choked on her own breath.

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The room suddenly felt way too small.

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Clearing her throat, she shifted gears. "Anyway, I didn't come here for small talk." She held out her hand. "Where are the divorce papers? Give them to me."

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Clint's brow furrowed. "You barely ever come to the office, and now the one time you do, it's for a divorce?"

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Serena blinked. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

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He was the one who didn't want her visiting him at work. Said he wanted to keep personal stuff and business separate.

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Now he was making it sound like she didn't care?

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And the divorce? That had been his bright idea. She'd begged him to reconsider and he'd still insisted. But now that she was on board, he was dragging his feet?

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She smirked, shaking her head. "You and Poppy must take classes in flipping the script. Always the first ones to play the victim, huh?"

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***

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