I Became Her 100th Victory Novel by WriterLola _ Novel





I Became Her 100th Victory Chapter 01

Yvonne Pittman, a female streamer, had shot to fame in Boston in recent years with viral, attention-grabbing content built around her series titled "Challenge: Sleep With 100 Married Men."
Perhaps because the first ninety-nine challenges had come too easily, she announced during a livestream that her hundredth target would be Terrence Cantrell—the golden boy of Boston.
Kathleen Murphy closed the trending page and paid the whole drama no mind.
Terrence had pursued her relentlessly for seven years. With a decade of shared history behind them, she didn't believe anyone could come between them.
Today marked their third wedding anniversary.
Terrence had gifted her a villa atop Beacon Hill.
But when she arrived at the front door, a stranger yanked it open—and the moment she saw Kathleen, she slapped her across the face impatiently.
"Who the hell are you? Another jilted wife? I wrapped up that guy's challenge ages ago. Can you just drop it already?"
In that instant, Kathleen recognized her.
She turned to the bodyguards, her voice ice-cold. "Get her out of here."
The guards had just clamped down on Yvonne's wrist when a brutal kick to the knee sent one of them crumpling to the ground with a cry of pain.
Terrence had walked out before she knew it.
Yvonne pressed herself against him. "Oh, so this is Mrs. Cantrell. Terrence, your wife's such a sore loser, isn't she?"
"Terry?" Kathleen's gaze settled on him, her knuckles whitening as she clung to the last shred of hope she had left.
Terrence slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over Yvonne's shoulders. "Kathy, Yvie just speaks her mind. She didn't mean any harm."
With that, he laced his fingers through Yvonne's and climbed into his car without a backward glance.
As the window rolled up, Kathleen caught a glimpse of Yvonne leaning in to kiss his jaw. "Still gonna deny it? Did I win the challenge or not? Hm, you're so stubborn."
Kathleen's eyes burned. The sting from the slap seemed to sink deeper, somewhere far beneath the surface.
Her fingers stiffened as she dialed her stepbrother Stefan Murphy's number. "Stef, I want a divorce."
"Has Terrence been mistreating you?"
Kathleen let out a bitter laugh. "He cheated on me."
There was a brief silence before he spoke again. "Kathy, do you remember what you promised me?"
Her eyes still red, she answered softly, "Yes. Once I'm back, we'll get married."
That night, Yvonne posted a new video—her first update in two years.
Even with the mosaic censoring, Kathleen recognized those hands immediately.
She reported the video, along with Yvonne's account.
Then she texted Terrence: "Be discreet. I don't have time to handle the press."
The next morning, she woke up to find her text remained unread.
That afternoon, the villa's front door was kicked open. A couple of bodyguards stormed inside and cuffed Kathleen's wrists.
Terrence stood in the doorway, one arm draped around Yvonne's shoulders. "Apologize to Yvie," he said coldly.
Kathleen met his gaze calmly. "What for? I merely told the truth."
His tone remained even, but his eyes were devoid of warmth.
"Yvie runs that account all by herself. She put everything into it. You destroyed her work. Don't you think you owe her an apology?"
Kathleen's eyes stung. "I told the truth."
His face hardened further. "I trust what I see—not your version of events."
Yvonne pointed at her, sneering. "Terry really drew the short straw marrying a two-faced woman like you. You're disgusting."
When Terrence said nothing to contradict her, Kathleen let out a short laugh. "Why didn't you say that three years ago, when you put a ring on my finger?"
Terrence frowned slightly, not fully catching her words.
Yvonne snapped at the guards, "What are you waiting for? Start recording. Make her clear my name publicly."
They dragged Kathleen to the spiral staircase, cuffed her to the banister, and fitted wooden clamps over her fingers.
When they pulled the ropes, a searing pain exploded from her fingertips. Kathleen clenched her jaw, her body trembling.
"Haven't you eaten? Harder!" Yvonne's voice echoed through the house. "Let's see how long she can keep acting tough."
Wave after wave of blinding pain crashed over her, and Kathleen could taste blood in her throat. Blood seeped from her fingers. Dark spots swam across her vision.
As her sight dimmed, her hearing sharpened.
"Terry, do you think I'm being too cruel?"
After a moment of silence, she heard Terrence's familiar voice. "If you're not cruel, people will just walk all over you. You're only protecting yourself. There's nothing wrong with that."
More blood dripped to the floor. Kathleen felt a chill spreading through her entire body.
In her haze, her mind drifted back to their wedding on that island three years ago. Terrence had looked at her with so much sincerity, his eyes faintly red. "Kathy, marrying you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."
The memory made her smile faintly, bitter and self-mocking.
When another wave of pain hit, her strength gave out, and she sank to her knees. Damp strands of hair clung to her temples, soaked in cold sweat.
Terrence walked over, crouched in front of her, and studied her for a long moment. Then he slipped off his jacket—faintly scented with perfume—and draped it over her shoulders.
"Put on some makeup later. Just sit up straight. I'll have my editing team fix the audio. Once we're done filming, I'll get your hands bandaged."
Pain lanced through Kathleen's fingers again. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Terrence gave a nod, and the men finally let her go. She collapsed to the floor. When she looked up, her eyes landed on the wall—on their wedding portrait from three years ago.
How ironic.

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