Adelheid Rufo
12 Published Stories
Adelheid Rufo's Books and Stories
The Lie My Fiancé Created
Horror For three years, I believed my fiancé, Daryl, was my savior. He rescued me after a brutal attack-secretly orchestrated by my own sister, Kenisha-shattered my hands and my dreams of being a concert pianist. He gave me a perfect, protected life.
Then I discovered the truth on his laptop. I wasn't his beloved; I was "Asset: FB-01." A walking collection of prime organs, being groomed until my sister needed a new heart. My heart.
The man I loved became a monster. He forced me to take five pregnancy tests, snarling that he'd "get that thing out" of me himself if I compromised his investment. He locked me in the trunk of his car and later abandoned me on a collapsing rope bridge.
To finally break me, he drowned the stray kitten I'd rescued in the washing machine. "You hurt my Kenisha," he roared. "Now you'll know what it feels like to lose something you care about."
My entire life with him had been a lie. I was just livestock being fattened for slaughter, and my hands-the ones he once called magic-were just a "non-essential component."
After he drained my blood for the sister who wanted me dead, I went home and buried my cat. Then I packed a single bag, booked a flight to London, and vanished. They had created a monster. Now, they were about to meet her. Healed By Another: Rejecting The Ruthless Don
Mafia I spent a year in a Swiss asylum, swallowing pills to cure a madness that didn’t exist.
It turned out the medication was just sugar.
My insanity was a script written by Jaxon Francis, the Don of New York, just so he could marry a Cartel princess without his ward getting in the way.
When I finally escaped and tried to leave him, his new wife staged her own kidnapping and framed me.
Jaxon didn’t ask for proof. He didn’t look at the evidence.
Instead, he tied a rope around my ankles and dragged me behind a helicopter across the jagged rocks of the Wastelands.
He held his wife close and watched as my skin was flayed and my bones shattered, believing he was executing a traitor.
He left me for dead in the dirt, convinced he had cleansed his empire.
I took the hush money his mother threw at me and vanished, letting Alina Phillips die in that field.
Three years later, I returned to New York as "Echo," the elusive artist the world was obsessing over.
At a charity auction, Jaxon bid one hundred million dollars for a painting of a woman’s scarred back, desperate to buy redemption for the ghost he thought he killed.
He chased me into the rain, begging for a second chance, swearing he had destroyed his wife for me.
I looked at the man who once held my heart and simply smiled.
Then I turned to the man standing beside me.
"Jaxon, meet Darwin," I said, linking my arm through his.
"My husband." The Framed Heiress's Unyielding Comeback
Romance For ten years, I was my family' s living scandal. After being framed for a crime that nearly destroyed our company, I was cast as the pariah, forced to serve the very people who had stolen my future.
At my parents' 40th anniversary party, the humiliation reached its peak. My brother, the CEO who built his career on my ruin, stood at the podium.
"Can you not do one simple thing without creating a disaster?" he hissed at me in front of everyone. "For one night, can you just try not to be a complete and utter liability?"
His fiancée, the true architect of my downfall, watched with a triumphant smirk. My mother looked on in horror-not at his cruelty, but at the scene I was causing. My father simply turned away in disappointment.
They had all chosen their sides long ago, and I was not on it.
After a decade of absorbing their contempt for a crime I didn't commit, something inside me finally snapped. The guilt, the shame, the silence-it was all a lie I was no longer willing to live.
But I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I calmly walked out of that ballroom, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I found online.
A gravelly voice answered. "Mccormick."
"My name is Charlotte Gallegos," I said, my voice clearer and stronger than it had been in years. "I need to hire you." Obey the Monster, But Let's Revenge
Romance My family was crumbling, clinging to the last vestiges of a once-great name.
My upcoming marriage to Ethan was supposed to save us, his new money cushioning our fall.
But rumors painted Julian Thorne, a reclusive tech billionaire, as a monster who ruined women, and his people chose my beautiful half-sister, Hailey, as his next "companion."
Then Ethan, my fiancé, panicked, pulling me into a desperate elopement.
In a cheap motel room, he revealed his true plan: I was to pretend we'd been secretly married before Hailey's selection.
He needed me as a convenient shield, a deniable wife, so he could keep Hailey, and her potential connection to Thorne, on a string.
My stomach churned; this wasn't love, it was a transaction.
Back home, my family, desperate to "save" Hailey, demanded I support Ethan's lie, threatening to cut off funding for my cherished art project.
They called me "strong" when they wanted me to bear their burdens, to be a doormat.
The disgust was a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing I was just a pawn in their cruel, self-serving games.
Why was I always the one sacrificed, always the "strong" one meant to suffer in silence?
The thought of living Ethan' s fabricated life, a life of quiet humiliation and deceit, suddenly felt infinitely worse than facing any rumored monster.
A cold fury rose in me, sharp and clean.
I would not be their pawn, their disposable currency.
Looking my father dead in the eye, I declared, "If Hailey is too delicate for Mr. Thorne, then I will go in her place."
I' d rather face a monster with my eyes open than be a fool' s secret. Sold To The Monster: My Silent Nightmare
Modern I’ve spent eighteen hundred days as a silent ghost in the Crawford estate, a place where the air smells of expensive cigars and terror. My father, Senator Jed Bowen, sold me to Alek Crawford to pay off his gambling debts, trading his daughter’s life for a seat in the Senate.
Alek doesn’t just want my service; he wants my complete submission. He tracks my every move through cameras and bruises my skin just to see if I’ll flinch. He thinks he owns me because he holds the contract, and his mother ensures I’m kept in my place with slaps and insults.
When a scandal involving my half-sister and Alek’s brother hit the news, the house turned into a war zone. Alek cornered me in the dark, his hands stained with blood and ink, whispering that I was nothing but a receipt for his family's money. He’s been forcing me to take pills for years, believing they’ve kept me drugged and mute.
"She needs to speak again," he told a surgeon over the phone. "Whatever it takes."
He thinks he’s fixing a broken toy, but he’s actually planning to carve the silence into my throat permanently. He has no idea that I’ve been switching those pills for years, or that I’m more awake and more dangerous than he could ever imagine.
I’ve endured the biting cold and the crushing weight of his obsession, waiting for a single sign that my nightmare could end. Tonight, a secret message reached me in the rain, confirming that the only man I ever loved has finally finished his mission.
Kole is coming back for me.
The contract review is tomorrow, but I’m not planning on signing anything. I’m planning on taking back everything they stole from me, starting with my voice. The Rejected Healer: Her Rise as the White Wolf
Werewolf I carried a thermal container of stew to my fiancé's private estate, worried he was stressed about our upcoming pack merger.
Instead of a meditation retreat, I walked into a nightmare.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ivan playing on the rug with a secret son, while a woman named Kiera watched like a queen.
I froze as I heard Ivan's voice float through the glass.
"Aliana is just a placeholder. She smells like antiseptic and fear. Once I get the territory, I'll reject her."
My heart shattered, but the knife twisted deeper when he laughed about my parents.
"Her folks pay for this villa, Kiera. They know. They prefer a strong alliance over a disappointment of a daughter."
My own parents were drugging me to steal my medical patents. They thought I was weak. They thought I was just a submissive Healer.
I wiped my tears and unlocked his safe with the admin codes he forgot I installed.
I took the financial records, the fake DNA tests, and the theft agreements.
That night, at his secret son's birthday party, I didn't bring a gift.
I brought a projector.
I played their confession for the entire Council, severed the mate bond publicly, and vanished into the North.
Six months later, a ruined, homeless Ivan crawled into my clinic, begging for the legendary White Wolf to save him.
He looked up, shocked to see me standing there, glowing with silver power.
"You rejected the gift of the Goddess," I smiled, letting my Alpha aura crush him to the floor. "Now, get out." His Healing, Her Vengeful Lie
Fantasy The numb cold started in my fingertips, creeping inward.
I watched Chloe, my wife, her face a mask of impatient fury in the dim tent light.
Outside, a blizzard howled, the soundtrack to my dying.
My miraculous blood, the blood that could heal, drained from my arm, a crimson offering for a dead man.
"More," Chloe demanded, her voice sharp. "It' s not enough. You have to bring him back."
Her childhood sweetheart, Jake Miller, lay frozen nearby, a corpse.
"Chloe, it doesn' t work like this," I rasped, my vision blurring. "I can heal injuries. I can' t raise the dead."
"Liar!" she shrieked, her grief a twisted venom. "You can heal anything! You won' t save him because you' re jealous! It' s your fault he went up that mountain! If you hadn' t forced me to marry you, he' d still be alive!"
The accusation was a sick joke.
I had healed her to repay a debt, a lie used to trap me.
I wasn' t a god, just a medical prodigy.
As my lifeblood pooled, the world faded to black, her hateful face my last sight.
Then, bright, sterile light.
I gasped, eyes flying open in a pristine hospital room.
My hands were whole, warm.
Mrs. Davis, Chloe' s mother, stood by the window, worried but hopeful.
This was the day it all began, the day they begged me to heal their daughter.
I remembered my profound sense of duty, repaying a girl I believed saved me.
That single selfless act led to a year of loveless marriage, resentment, and my own murder.
"Dr. Hayes," Mrs. Davis said, trembling. "We' ve heard about your… gift. They say you can perform miracles."
She stepped forward, hands clasped.
"My daughter, Chloe… she' ll never walk again. But we believe… you can save her. Please, we' ll give you anything."
But my gaze was cold.
I saw the contempt, the venom of my past in her desperate eyes.
I had been a fool.
A naive, sacrificial lamb.
Not again. The Butterfly Effect of Ava
Romance The afternoon sun warmed my art studio, a sanctuary I' d built for myself, far from my chaotic family.
Life was good, my canvas humming with color, ready for final touches.
Then, the phone rang, a cold dread seizing me as Leo' s name flashed across the screen.
He demanded money, as always, his voice a familiar, entitled growl.
Our conversation was sharp, escalating quickly, ending with his chilling threat: "I'm outside your building. Come down here right now, or I'm coming up." A cold fear snaked down my spine; this was my sanctuary, not his to invade.
He was waiting, his face thin and angry. When I refused him, he sneered, calling me "little miss perfect artist," shoving me. I stumbled, caught off balance, and then he shoved me again, harder.
I fell backward, right into the street. Everything happened at once: the screech of tires, a blaring horn, blinding headlights.
A massive force slammed into me, pain exploding through every nerve. Then, only darkness.
I died. But then I opened my eyes. Confined to a tiny, unfamiliar body, in my old childhood bedroom, the calendar on the wall screamed 2007.
I was seven years old again.
It wasn't a dream. It was a second chance. A chance to change everything. A chance to stop Leo from becoming the monster who would one day cause my death. Rewriting Her Destiny
Romance My life as Senator King' s cherished daughter was a meticulously crafted dream.
My future seemed certain: marrying my devoted fiancé, Beau Carter, with my closest 'companion,' Daisy Mae, always by my side.
But behind velvet curtains, a venomous plot brewed.
My brother, Randy, consumed by petty jealousy, and Beau, blinded by ambition, fell under Daisy's insidious, manipulative spell.
Their true, ugly intentions burst forth.
They orchestrated my ruin, a horrifying act of "revenge."
I was cast out, forcibly married to a brutal criminal, stripped of family, fortune, and hope.
Trapped, I endured relentless abuse until I finally died, alone and utterly broken, in a desolate, forgotten place.
In my agony, the truth, sharp as a blade, shattered my illusions.
Randy and Beau, my own flesh and supposed love, engineered my downfall, all for her – for Daisy, the viper I foolishly called 'friend.'
The unfathomable betrayal burned hotter than any physical pain.
How could they?
Why her?
But destiny wasn't done.
My eyes snapped open, a gasp catching, back in my childhood bed, morning sun streaming.
Every horrifying memory of my agonizing future was brutally fresh.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
This time, the Kings would have their vengeance.
The game has already begun. Ranchland Refuge: Where Love Grows
Romance The recurring nightmare was a constant torment, a horrifying glimpse into my future.
Every night, I watched myself trapped, broken, married to Ethan Vanderbilt, his cruel eyes and chilling smile haunting my sleep as Brittany Miller, his manipulative girlfriend, whispered poison in his ear.
But this time, it hit differently.
I jolted awake, heart hammering, but the terror wasn't just residual dream-fear.
The details were sharper, the pain more intense.
It wasn't just a bad dream; it felt like a memory, a terrifying premonition burned into my soul, a stark warning of the life awaiting me as Mrs. Ethan Vanderbilt.
My familiar East Coast bedroom did nothing to calm the dread.
My engagement, meticulously planned by our influential families and celebrated by society, was no longer a gilded cage – it was a death sentence.
I couldn't breathe. I saw my very spirit withering in a silent, opulent prison, completely at his mercy.
How could my aunt, bound by her powerful Senator husband and their family alliances, only see an "advantageous match" when I saw a monster?
They feared the scandal of breaking the engagement; I feared losing my entire self.
"What's more important?" I choked, "His career, or my life? Because I' m telling you, marrying Ethan will destroy me."
The fear was a cold knot in my stomach, but a desperate, burning resolve ignited.
I couldn't accept this fate. I had relived my end, and I refused to walk that path again.
Looking at my pale, haunted reflection, I whispered, "No. I won't let him. I'll change it."
My desperate fight for freedom began at that very moment. My Fiancée Tried To Steal My Fortune
Modern Seven years. That's how long I'd been with Sarah, building a future, planning our wedding.
Meeting her parents formally was supposed to be a joyous step, a celebration of us.
But at dinner, Sarah casually suggested a terrifying plan: mortgaging or selling the townhouse-the one I paid for-to fund her deceased brother's friend's dubious startup.
Her parents enthusiastically agreed, openly admiring the 'visionary' friend, David.
They dismissed my shock as "selfishness," accusing me of caring "always about money."
Sarah herself rolled her eyes, questioning my "support."
Then, they ambushed me at my college, publicly humiliating me with baseless accusations of emotional abuse and fraud.
My career, built on years of hard work as an adjunct professor, hung by a thread.
How could the woman I loved betray me so utterly for mere convenience and blind family loyalty?
Were my life savings, my future, so easily disposable to them?
The injustice burned, revealing a deep-seated contempt I never truly saw.
I cancelled the wedding, ready to fight for what was mine.
But just as her CEO prepared to reprimand me, a sleek black car pulled up, and a quiet man stepped out, about to expose a secret that would shake their world to its core.
They had no idea who they were really dealing with. Living In The Haunted House
Fantasy Because I was greedy for a cheap place to live, I moved into a haunted house. The old beggar downstairs warned me in terror, "Miss, this house is haunted, you can't live here!" I smiled and reassured him, "It's okay, I'm even poorer than the ghosts, so if I move in, I'll be the one causing trouble." He didn't know that I've been able to see ghosts since I was young, and just last night, I stayed up late giving psychological counseling to a ghost. You might like
From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride
William Jafferson 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." The Lie My Fiancé Created
Adelheid Rufo For three years, I believed my fiancé, Daryl, was my savior. He rescued me after a brutal attack-secretly orchestrated by my own sister, Kenisha-shattered my hands and my dreams of being a concert pianist. He gave me a perfect, protected life.
Then I discovered the truth on his laptop. I wasn't his beloved; I was "Asset: FB-01." A walking collection of prime organs, being groomed until my sister needed a new heart. My heart.
The man I loved became a monster. He forced me to take five pregnancy tests, snarling that he'd "get that thing out" of me himself if I compromised his investment. He locked me in the trunk of his car and later abandoned me on a collapsing rope bridge.
To finally break me, he drowned the stray kitten I'd rescued in the washing machine. "You hurt my Kenisha," he roared. "Now you'll know what it feels like to lose something you care about."
My entire life with him had been a lie. I was just livestock being fattened for slaughter, and my hands-the ones he once called magic-were just a "non-essential component."
After he drained my blood for the sister who wanted me dead, I went home and buried my cat. Then I packed a single bag, booked a flight to London, and vanished. They had created a monster. Now, they were about to meet her. His Annoyance, My Awakening
Fonz Nadherny The last thing I remembered was the grinding sound of machinery, a symphony of six years in our small town, now a city death knell.
My children, Lily and Tom, were so excited to visit their father Michael' s new, successful factory.
"They've missed Michael so much, Ava. Let them go see him. He's just inside." Sarah, Michael's brother's widow, whispered, her arm around my shoulder, her voice a sweet poison.
I watched them run ahead, their small figures disappearing through the massive doorway, believing their father was building a better life for us.
They didn' t know the truth: Michael had left us for Sarah, taking our factory severance pay to build his new life with her and her children.
Then I saw Sarah' s real smile-sharp, cold. She pushed an unsecured metal cart. A klaxon blared. Two screams, cut short by a sickening crunch, a spray of red. My world ended.
Michael stood over me, his face filled with chilling annoyance, not grief.
"Well, that's that, then," he said, flatly. "Saves me the trouble and expense of a divorce, I guess."
He glanced at the machinery. "They were just baggage anyway, Ava. Holding me back."
His words annihilated my soul, a physical force squeezing the breath from me. The world turned gray, then black. I died on that cold, greasy floor.
And then, I gasped. I was in my cramped bedroom, sunlight filtering through the grimy window. A calendar on the wall marked the day the factory closed. Lily and Tom sat on the rug, whole and alive.
"Mommy?" Lily asked, her big brown eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"
Tears streamed down my face. I clung to them, inhaling their scent. I was back.
The memory of their deaths, of Michael's monstrous words, was burned into my mind. Grief remained, a hot knot of agony, but something cold, hard, and sharp solidified beside it.
Revenge. Michael. Sarah. You will pay. I will tear down your world, piece by piece, and I will make you feel every ounce of the agony you gave me.
This was not a second chance at happiness. It was a second chance at justice. 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
Landslide 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
Luo Chengfeng 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
ffssg 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. A Father's Vengeance
Bu Gui The smoke burned my eyes, thick and acrid, as my three-year-old son, Caleb, coughed weakly beside me.
My wife, Jennifer, stood at the wine cellar door, her gaze fixed on her brother-in-law, Ryan.
"It's for Molly's sake," she said, her voice chillingly devoid of warmth.
"The guru said Caleb's energy caused her asthma attack. We have to cleanse it."
She slammed the heavy oak door shut, the bolt thudding into place, trapping us.
My son, who had a severe peanut allergy and sensitive lungs, was left to suffocate in the toxic smoke.
Days bled into a hazy nightmare until Jennifer' s brother, Wesley, appeared, revealing Jennifer never loved me; I was just a rebound.
He then callously threw more sage onto the embers, sealing our tomb deeper.
I clawed our way out, just barely, carrying Caleb' s limp, blue body to a hospital, clinging to a desperate thread of hope.
But Jennifer arrived, not for us, but demanding Caleb's O-negative blood for Molly' s minor fender bender injury, ignoring doctors' pleas.
"He's my son. Do it," she commanded, her eyes cold.
Then, with a casual glance at Caleb, a nurse, obviously bribed, fed him a peanut granola bar.
The flatline screamed, and Caleb arched, his tiny chest still.
Jennifer, with Ryan' s arm around her, turned her back on our dying son to comfort Molly' s fake tears.
My world shattered.
Ryan' s venomous whisper echoed: "You and your son, you were always in the way."
How could a mother abandon her child to such a horrifying death?
How could she choose a niece over her own son, then murder him without a second thought?
Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to dust, then reformed into steel.
Andrew Wright had to die, so the man who would take everything from them could be born. My Heart, My Vengeance
Lan Zixin I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room.
My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless.
He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star.
Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo.
Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom."
Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me.
But the ultimate cruelty came later.
Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant.
"You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
"You will donate your heart to Chloe."
It wasn't a request; it was my execution.
My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life.
As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch."
I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago.
Then, I left my body to die.
Yet, I woke up.
Not gone, but back.
And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster.
The deal was clear: save him and save my sister.
I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight. 
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