Chapter 4: The Heartbreaker’s Final Chapter

Here’s the truth—from me, Autumn Lane.

Now it’s my turn to tell the story. The real story. The one that started long before Nolan ever set his sights on me.

It was all a setup—a grand plan for revenge.

I spent months plotting, every move calculated, every detail considered. I wasn’t just fighting for myself—I was fighting for Zoey.

My name is Autumn Lane. I have two best friends: Mariah and Zoey. We grew up together—playing, laughing, crying, experiencing everything together. We even promised to be each other’s bridesmaids one day.

We’d sit on the swings at the park, dreaming about our futures, making silly vows to never let a boy come between us. I never imagined how important those promises would become.

But after high school, we went our separate ways for family reasons. Mariah went to study in Canada, Zoey got into Maple Heights University, and I stayed in the city for college.

We tried to stay close, texting every day, FaceTiming on weekends. But life has a way of pulling people apart.

Zoey was the best student among us. Even though our schools were far apart, we kept in touch through Facebook, sharing our lives.

She’d send me photos of her dorm room, updates on her classes, snippets of her latest stories. I cheered her on from afar, proud of everything she was accomplishing.

One day, Zoey told me she was dating someone. I was happy for her—she was shy and introverted, nothing like the bold heroines she wrote about in her stories. I worried she’d never find a boyfriend and even planned to help her one day. But she found someone on her own.

She gushed about him in her messages—how kind he was, how he made her feel special. I teased her about finally finding her Prince Charming.

She wouldn’t send me a photo, saying it was too early, but promised to introduce him later.

I joked that she was being mysterious, but I let it go. I trusted her judgment.

I could feel her happiness through the phone.

Her texts were full of exclamation points and smiley faces. It made me happy just to read them.

But then, I got a message from her cousin saying Zoey had died. At first, I thought it was a joke and called to yell at him, but when he answered, he was crying. He never cried easily.

His voice was broken, barely recognizable. I felt my own world shatter as the truth sank in.

I realized it was serious and rushed over.

I barely remember the drive, just the numbness that settled over me. I kept hoping it was all a mistake.

I saw Zoey lying cold and still on a metal table. I fainted on the spot.

When I woke up, the world felt different—colder, emptier. A part of me was gone forever.

The police said it was suicide over a breakup. She left a note: "I love you so much—why did you do this to me? Why?"

The words haunted me, echoing in my dreams. I refused to believe she’d end her life over a boy.

They found her boyfriend, Nolan Pierce, a junior at Maple Heights University, student council VP, popular and handsome. He admitted dating Zoey but said she was too controlling, so he broke up with her. He never expected her to kill herself. Zoey’s roommate said Nolan cried his eyes out at the police station.

He played the grieving boyfriend, but something about his story didn’t add up. I started digging.

But as Zoey’s best friend, I didn’t believe she would kill herself just because a man didn’t love her. No way.

Zoey was strong, resilient. She’d been through worse and come out stronger. I knew there was more to the story.

So I decided to investigate.

I called in favors, hired a private investigator, and started piecing together the truth.

First, I looked into Nolan. Since I couldn’t investigate in person, I used money—after all, as Lane Holdings’ heiress, money was no issue.

I told my dad I needed some extra cash for a research project. He didn’t ask questions.

I hired a private detective, who found that Nolan had dated several rich girls in college, always looking for benefits. Zoey wasn’t wealthy, but her family was comfortable, and she was attractive and inexperienced—a perfect target.

He had a pattern—find a girl with something to offer, charm her, then move on when he got bored.

I asked her cousin to check her recent finances. In three months, she’d spent $5,000—way more than usual. She was always frugal, so this was a red flag. Tracing the money, we found it was transferred to Nolan.

He’d bled her dry, taking advantage of her kindness. It made my blood boil.

Just as I suspected, he dated Zoey for money and sex.

But that alone wouldn’t make her kill herself—she could’ve asked me for help if she needed money. There had to be more.

I asked the detective to dig deeper into Nolan’s social circle.

He started interviewing friends, checking social media, looking for anything suspicious.

One day, the detective sent me a video. The woman was Zoey, but the man’s face was blurred. The detective said it was found on a dark web forum, posted by Nolan. He’d been selling videos of his girlfriends for profit.

I felt sick watching it, knowing how much it would have hurt her to find out.

Zoey was just one victim. At a bar, one of Nolan’s friends tried to pursue her, but she refused, saying she only loved Nolan. The guy showed her the video, calling her a slut. Zoey confronted Nolan, but he broke up with her, saying her family wasn’t rich enough and he was tired of her.

He humiliated her, then discarded her like trash. It was unforgivable.

Zoey had loved him deeply and given him everything. In the end, he destroyed her.

He didn’t just break her heart—he broke her spirit. That’s what killed her.

After learning the truth, my rage was overwhelming. I couldn’t let my best friend die in vain.

I vowed to make him pay, no matter what it took.

A life for a life—he needed to pay.

I started planning, every step designed to bring him down.

So I decided to avenge Zoey.

I wasn’t just doing it for her—I was doing it for every girl he’d ever hurt.

My revenge plan took time to devise. First, I transferred to Maple Heights University, donating three hundred grand to the library to make it happen. I didn’t tell my dad the real reason—I just said I wanted to honor Zoey’s memory.

He was proud of me, thinking I was moving on. I let him believe it.

Once at Maple Heights, I needed allies. One was Zoey’s cousin, Eric Miller. I told him everything, and he agreed to help. He was always a heartthrob, so I asked him to play the part of a status-chasing jerk who went after rich girls—targeting me. That’s why he made that dramatic 999-rose proposal. I knew only something flashy would catch Nolan’s attention.

Eric was a natural actor, relishing the chance to play the villain. We rehearsed every move, every line.

Sure enough, as I pretended to date Eric, I started getting anonymous texts smearing him. The detective, undercover as a janitor, confirmed that Nolan was following us and investigating Eric. I knew he was taking the bait.

We set up fake dates, staged arguments, made sure Nolan saw everything we wanted him to see.

Next, it was time for the blonde, Lily—actually a model, recruited by my other best friend, Mariah, who was as angry about Zoey’s death as I was. Lily and Eric staged public dates and hotel visits to lure Nolan into sending me that incriminating photo.

Lily played her part perfectly, flirting with Eric in front of Nolan, making sure he got the evidence he needed.

On the eve of the wedding registration, I got the picture message. Everything was going according to plan.

I acted devastated, knowing Nolan would be watching.

We staged the hotel confrontation, with Lily slapping me for realism. I knew Nolan would be watching.

The slap hurt, but it was worth it. I wanted him to see me at my lowest.

When I pretended to attempt suicide, he saved me, thinking I’d owe him a life debt—just as I intended.

He fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

After that, he called me every night, growing closer. I helped him get a job at Lane Holdings through my cousin. I pretended to be poor, and he kept sending me money to prove his devotion.

He thought he was in control, but I was pulling the strings all along.

At the bookstore, Eric and I staged a scene about borrowing money, making Nolan even more convinced I was the real heiress.

He took the bait, growing more obsessed by the day.

He fought Eric to prove his love, and after that, I agreed to be his girlfriend. The next phase was bringing in "Mariah"—actually Samantha Grace, a top hostess from a nearby city, recruited by Mariah for her looks and acting skills.

Samantha was a pro, playing the role of my glamorous best friend to perfection. Nolan never suspected a thing.

During dinner, Nolan couldn’t take his eyes off her. She flirted back, and I left them alone as planned. She got his Instagram, and later, they slept together—just as I predicted.

I watched from a distance, knowing every move was part of my plan.

With both of them by my side, I smiled more and more, knowing the trap was closing.

Every time he let his guard down, I tightened the noose.

On New Year’s Eve, Nolan proposed. I cried—not from being moved, but from pain, thinking of how much Zoey had loved him and how deeply he’d hurt her. I accepted, knowing this was my only chance for revenge.

I wore the ring, but my heart belonged to Zoey—and to justice.

After that, Samantha kept meeting him, secretly filming their encounters at my request. I paid her generously so she could start a new life afterward.

She sent me the videos, each one a nail in his coffin.

I told her to say my dad would make Nolan sign a prenup waiving all rights to Lane family assets. I knew this would push him to act.

He took the bait, growing desperate.

Sure enough, he plotted to kill my dad, relying on Samantha for inside information. He thought he was so clever, but everything was under my control.

I watched him sabotage the car, every move caught on camera.

The old silver sedan in our garage was a decoy—I bought it specifically for him to sabotage. I knew he was a car enthusiast and would jump at the chance.

He couldn’t resist, thinking he was outsmarting me.

At the critical moment, I told my dad everything. He agreed to help for Zoey’s sake.

He hugged me, promising to play his part.

On November 1st, Nolan snuck into our garage and cut the brakes, unaware I was filming him the whole time. The next day, a stunt driver staged the crash, and my dad went into hiding.

We watched the news together, knowing Nolan would think he’d won.

Lane Holdings reshuffled staff, and my cousin promoted Nolan to manager, giving him enough rope to hang himself. He started taking kickbacks, which we documented.

Every bribe, every shady deal, recorded and catalogued.

At the wedding, the sex tape played for all to see, with Samantha asking him to confess his motives on camera, destroying his reputation.

He tried to deny it, but the evidence was overwhelming.

Eric was planted in the crowd to confront him, provoking him into grabbing the cake knife and attempting murder—just as planned. The police, already alerted, arrested him on the spot.

It was poetic justice, watching him be led away in handcuffs.

With all the evidence, he confessed to everything.

He broke down, sobbing, begging for mercy. I felt nothing but satisfaction.

Samantha disappeared with her reward, starting a new life somewhere.

She sent me a postcard from California, thanking me for the fresh start.

I listed Nolan’s crimes: sabotaging my dad’s car, attempted murder, extorting suppliers, selling sex tapes online. He wouldn’t get the death penalty, but his life was ruined.

He’d spend years behind bars, haunted by the ghosts of everyone he’d hurt.

Still, it wasn’t enough for me or for Zoey.

No punishment could bring her back, but at least he’d never hurt anyone else.

Eric told me that in detention, Nolan beat another inmate badly and got an extra charge for assault.

He sent me updates, letting me know justice was being served.

I smiled—this was my final gift to him. I had my cousin send a message through someone inside: "I’m Autumn Lane. I set you up. Remember Zoey? She was my best friend. The way you destroyed her, now I destroy you."

I hoped the words would haunt him, the way his actions had haunted me.

As they say, sometimes the most devastating revenge isn’t death, but breaking someone’s spirit.

He, Nolan Pierce, hurt Zoey so deeply—now I made him wish he were dead.

I hope he remembers her name every night, the way I do.

In the end, I turned this entire revenge story into a novel called "Heartbreaker," and for the author’s name, I wrote hers:

Zoey.

I dedicated every page to her memory, hoping it would bring her a little peace, wherever she is. And maybe, just maybe, it will help someone else find the courage to fight back, too.

Maybe it’ll help someone else find the strength to rewrite their own ending.