Champagne, Secrets, & Serena

The first time Amelia kissed Serena, her husband was three feet away — laughing, drunk, and completely unaware. 

It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to survive the party, smile through the speeches, and pretend she didn’t know her husband was cheating on her with the woman now sipping champagne like it was holy water. 

But when Serena looked at her — really looked — Amelia didn’t see her husband’s mistress. 

She saw possibility. And danger. And something that felt like revenge but tasted like freedom. 

Christian’s birthday had always been more about spectacle than sincerity. This year, it was a rooftop event at their penthouse — champagne tower, string quartet, PR photographers everywhere. 

Amelia wore a gold silk gown that shimmered like she belonged in this life. But inside, she felt hollow. Tired. She was tired of pretending this marriage was real, tired of Christian’s hand resting on her waist like it was a performance, not affection. 

And she was tired of watching him flirt with Serena like he hadn’t already claimed her in secret. 

Serena — all cheekbones and chaos — stood across the room in a backless emerald slip, hair pulled into a perfect low bun. She looked untouchable, yet devourable. And Christian watched her like he owned both. 

But he didn’t. Not anymore. 

Asher, Christian’s right-hand man, nursed a whiskey at the bar. His jaw clenched every time Serena laughed at Christian’s jokes. He’d seen the texts — days ago — but hadn’t said a word. 

Who do you confront first? Your wife? Or your boss? Especially when they’re the same betrayal wrapped in different skin. 

Amelia noticed his stare. She knew that look — the quiet unraveling, the disbelief followed by dull, boiling rage. 

He wasn’t alone in that. 

She’d known for months. Women always know. The late-night texts, the business “meetings” that ended with lipstick on Christian’s collar. At first, it had destroyed her. But over time, it sharpened her. Hardened her. Made her calculate. 

And tonight? Tonight, she was done being quiet. 

She followed Serena to the hallway that led to the wine fridge. 

Serena turned to the sound of her heels. 

“What?” she asked, arms crossed. “Here to remind me I’m wrecking your marriage?” 

Amelia didn’t flinch. “It was wrecked long before you.” 

A pause. And then, without warning, Amelia leaned in and kissed her. 

It was a soft, slow, aching kiss — the kind that caught Serena completely off guard. 

When she pulled away, Serena looked dazed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t know,” Amelia whispered. “But I think I like it.” 

And then Serena smiled — just a little. “You’re more dangerous than he is.” 

Back on the rooftop, the party swirled in champagne bubbles and shallow compliments. 

Christian was mid-toast, glass raised, his other hand gripping Amelia’s hip like she was a trophy. 

“I just want to thank everyone who’s supported me this year—” 

“Like Serena,” someone whispered nearby. 

Christian grinned. “She’s been… invaluable.” 

The guests chuckled. Serena flushed. Asher stared daggers. 

Amelia downed her drink. 

She turned to Asher. “You know, don’t you?” 

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.” 

“Then why haven’t you done anything?” 

He looked away. “Because if I start, I won’t stop.” 

Amelia handed him her phone. “Then let’s finish it instead.” 

Inside, Serena paced the lounge room. 

“I’m not some pawn in your revenge plan,” she snapped. 

“No,” Amelia said. “You’re the only other person in this story who knows what it’s like to be used by him.” 

Serena blinked. “So, what’s your plan?” 

“We walk out. Together. In front of everyone.” 

“You want to be humiliated?” 

“I want to be free.” 

And that was when Serena cracked — the cool mask breaking for a second. 

“He made me feel seen,” she said. “Not loved. Just noticed. For the first time in years.” 

Amelia nodded. “I know exactly what that’s like.” 

Ten minutes later, they walked onto the rooftop holding hands. 

Gasps. 

Phones came out. 

Christian’s glass dropped to the floor. 

“Amelia?” he said, smile gone. 

She let go of Serena’s hand and stepped forward. 

“I wanted to give you one last gift,” she said calmly. “A woman who doesn’t belong to you.” 

Asher walked up beside her. “And a second one.” 

He pulled out his phone and pressed play. 

Christian’s voice blared through the speakers: “Wear that green dress again. You know what it does to me.” 

And then another: “Don’t worry. Amelia never pays attention.” 

Dead silence. 

Then whispers. Then phones filming. 

“Didn’t think to wipe your work phone, huh?” Asher added. 

Christian looked panicked now. “You’re blowing this out of proportion—” 

Serena laughed bitterly. “I’m the proportion.” 

By the next morning, the story had hit every media feed: 
Power Couple Crumbles at Rooftop Party. Wife Exposes Affair. Leaves with Mistress. 
Photos. Speculation. Outrage. Applause. 

Amelia didn’t care. 

She’d already drained the joint account, filed the paperwork, and taken back the café Christian had once gifted Serena as a “side thing.” 

Not only did she raise the rent on it — she bought the whole building. 

And handed Serena the deed. 

“For when you want something that’s really yours,” she said. 

Serena didn’t say thank you. 

She just kissed her. 

And that was enough. 

They didn’t become an official couple overnight. 

Some days they argued. Some days they avoided labels. 

But love bloomed quietly, between late-night text messages and warm kitchen coffee. 

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t instant. 

It was real. 

And Christian? 

He kept the penthouse. 

But not the power. 

Comment Question: 

Who do you think walked away with the real win — Amelia, Serena, Asher… or all three? 
And if someone betrayed you like that, would you get revenge… or rise above? 

Drop your thoughts below. Let’s talk about power, pain, and the most satisfying kind of endings.