Abeille
1 Published Story
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From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride
Gavin My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach." Her Shattered Heart, His Cruel Betrayal
Gavin My husband's pregnant mistress disappeared, and he accused me of kidnapping her.
To force a confession, he dragged a writhing burlap sack into the living room, threatening to beat the "stray dog" inside if I didn't tell him where she was.
I screamed that our son, Jalen, was inside. He just laughed, calling me a liar as he raised an iron poker.
I watched, helpless, as he brought it down again and again, ignoring my pleas.
Through the blood-soaked fabric, I heard our son's last, faint whisper: "Daddy…"
As if that wasn't enough, he then had his men drag me to a back room to punish me for his mistress’s supposed miscarriage.
They left me broken on the floor, my son dead and my soul shattered. With nothing left to live for, I threw myself into the ocean.
But I was saved. And when I opened my eyes, I made a vow. I would return, and I would drag them both down to the hell they built for me. The Price of a Perfect Angel
Gavin The cold steel of a knife slid between my ribs, and the last thing I remember was the shock on my best friend Wendy' s face – not that I was dying, but that she needed the perfect angle for her livestream.
She narrated my demise, blaming me for trying to sleep with a trucker, her voice sickly excited as notifications pinged with hateful comments like "Serves her right" and "Stupid slut."
I died on the dirty floor of a truck cabin, my blood pooling around me, smeared as a whore, utterly betrayed by the person I trusted most.
My last breath was a gasp of disbelief, wondering how I could have been so blind to her jealousy and malice.
Then, I gasped again, only this time the air was clean, not thick with diesel and blood, and I was back in my law firm's breakroom, staring at a saccharine-smiling Wendy, who was about to propose the very trip that led to my murder. Love, Lies, And A Second Life
Gavin The air in the room was stale, thick with the smell of antiseptic and despair.
They told me I was sick, that grief had broken my mind.
My mother-in-law, Martha, would visit, her concern a chilling mask, whispering to doctors how I was hallucinating, a danger to myself and my son, Billy.
"She doesn' t understand that David is gone," she' d insist, loud enough for me to hear.
But the real horror wasn't my madness; it was the truth.
Three days after my husband, David, a decorated police officer, was supposedly killed, I stood at his memorial, expected to mourn.
The man in the casket wasn't David.
It was Mark, his identical twin, missing the faded scar David always had.
That night, I found David, not dead, but alive in our summer cabin, with his childhood sweetheart, Emily Peterson.
He confessed it all with chilling indifference: Mark was killed in a shootout, and David seized the chance for a new life, free from me and Billy.
"I never loved you," he said, as if explaining a simple math problem. "It was always Emily."
I tried to tell everyone-his mother, his captain-but they looked at me with pity, already conditioned by Martha and David' s lies.
They had me committed to a white room, and David married Emily.
My four-year-old son, Billy, was left in their care, crying for me every night.
Then came the unbearable news: Billy was dead, a "tragic accident" from an overdose of cough medicine.
My world shattered.
Desperate, I fashioned a noose, remembering Billy' s bright laugh, the life David had stolen.
My only regret was that David would never face justice.
I kicked the chair away.
Darkness took me.
Then, a blinding light, and I was back on my living room couch, the day David was supposedly killed.
I wasn' t dead. I was back.
Martha' s face, a mask of practiced sadness, now held a triumphant curl.
I heard David' s voice from the hallway, "Is she stable?"
"She' s fragile, but she bought it," Martha replied. "She' ll break, just like we planned. We' ll have her committed, and Billy will be ours."
"Good," David said. "Make sure she doesn' t get near the body. Mark didn' t have my scar."
This time, I was not the grieving widow.
I was the executioner. The Unforgiving Snow
Gavin The scream died in my throat, a ghost of a sound from a life already lost. My eyes snapped open to weak autumn sunlight filtering through bedroom curtains.
Michael, my husband, slept beside me, his breathing even. Down the hall, Lily, my five-year-old, would soon be stirring, ready for cartoons and pancakes. It was a normal morning, but the memories, the ice-cold dread, they weren't a dream.
It was a terrifying premonition: a monstrous blizzard, Lily's small, still face, Michael's broken body in the snow. I saw the snarling faces of Frank, Brenda, Billy, and Jimmy, their greedy eyes scanning our home.
And then, the ultimate betrayal: Jessie. My adopted daughter, Jessie, siding with them, facilitating their violence, celebrating their victory over our family.
They had ransacked our home, murdered my husband and daughter, and left me to die in the freezing snow. My heart hammered with the visceral horror of that nightmare, the profound betrayal burning deeper than any wound.
How could the daughter I loved, the one I raised, turn into such a monster and actively choose our destruction? This wasn't just a nightmare; it felt terrifyingly real, a chilling glimpse into an impending doom.
"It had all happened. It was all going to happen. Today."
A tremor went through me. Today was the day the blizzard warnings began, the day Jessie first whined about wanting to see her "real" family.
I was back. Armed with the brutal wisdom of a life I'd already lost, I would rewrite every brutal chapter, protect my family, and ensure those who sought to harm us faced a fate far worse. ENRAGED SOUL
otu Harriet Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends.
She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her.
" Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek.
Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing.
They molested and bullied her until she passed out.
" Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried
" Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...."
" No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..."
" Oh, my God...what should we do..."
Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action.
ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Gavin It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. I Tamed the Monster He Sent
Gavin The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me.
My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone.
Pain, then darkness.
Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum.
I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John.
At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me.
“Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome.
“Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time.
The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her.
Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me.
He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon.
Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity.
But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop.
No. Not again.
This time, things would be different. Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
Gavin My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold.
Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back.
My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence.
My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic.
His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison.
She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her.
A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins.
Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue.
I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn.
I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips.
Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole.
But then, warmth. Sunlight.
My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom.
Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole.
The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began.
The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper.
This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance.
Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed.
No. Not again.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
I would take everything she had, everything she wanted.
Her husband. Her position. Her future.
My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun.