From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight

From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight

Alfredo Deangelo

4.3
Comment(s)
4K
View
10
Chapters

My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna. He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown. This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn. He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me. This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her. "Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."

From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight Chapter 1

My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna.

He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown.

This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn.

He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me.

This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her.

"Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."

Chapter 1

Alyssa POV:

The world shattered around me, a sickening crunch of metal twisting and groaning as the SUV plunged into the icy depths. My breath hitched, not from the impact, but from a chilling familiarity. This wasn't the first time. I tasted salt and blood, a metallic tang that was both new and ancient.

"Alyssa! Kianna!" Christian's voice ripped through the chaos, a desperate, frantic sound.

He was reaching for me, his hand outstretched, just like before. My heart, a bruised and weary thing, thumped a discordant rhythm against my ribs. No. Not again. I wouldn't let him repeat the same mistake, condemn us all to a living hell.

The frigid water clawed at my skin, pulling me down, but a strange clarity bloomed in my mind. This was it. My second chance. A gruesome, terrifying gift. The blizzard raged outside, a white shroud over the remote mountain pass. The car, our supposed escape, was now a tomb, groaning its last before fully sinking.

"Christian, the life raft!" I yelled, my voice raw, cutting through the roaring wind and the creak of tortured steel. "Only one person. Save Kianna."

He hesitated, his eyes wide with disbelief, then panic. The small, orange life raft, designed for two, had somehow ripped during the crash, barely holding air, only enough for one adult. It bobbed uselessly in the churning water beside us. The icy current was already dragging Kianna's limp body away, tangled in the rapidly sinking wreckage. She was unconscious, bleeding, her face pale against the white snow.

"Kianna can't swim, Christian! She needs you more. Go!" I pushed his arm, pointing towards her. My voice was sharp, a command, not a plea. My own body screamed from the cold, but my resolve was colder.

Christian' s eyes darted between Kianna' s fading form and my insistent gaze. He was always caught between us. Always. The choice, the impossible choice, now rested squarely on his shoulders. Or rather, I had forced it there. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I couldn't bear to be the reason for her death again. The weight of his blame, the years of silent accusation, had crushed me in my first life.

He gave a choked gasp, a sound of relief mixed with terror, as if a great burden had been lifted, only to be replaced by another, equally terrifying. He didn't look back at me. Not really. His gaze was already fixed on Kianna, his childhood friend, the one he truly loved, the one he' d always chosen, even when he pretended otherwise.

"Alyssa, I'll come back for you!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the storm. He fumbled for the deflated raft, his movements clumsy with desperation. His words were a hollow echo, a promise he' d broken countless times before. A cruel joke.

I watched him go, propelling himself through the icy water towards Kianna. He didn't spare a backward glance. He never did. He was already focused on his real priority, his true love. The lifeboat, a pathetic excuse for a rescue vessel, was a mere formality for him to reach her.

My lips twisted into a bitter, humorless smile. "Come back for me?" I scoffed under my breath, the words dissolving into the biting wind. "You never did, Christian."

In my previous life, he "saved" me. He pulled me from the wreck, cradled me in his arms, his face a mask of heroic determination. But Kianna? She drowned. Lost to the icy depths, her death a silent accusation that haunted every waking moment of our marriage. Christian blamed me. Not with words, not directly, but with every heartbroken sigh, every distant stare, every icy touch. He blamed me for her leaving him.

The memory of her funeral in my first life was still vivid. It was a cold, somber affair, rain lashing down as if the sky itself wept for Kianna. Christian stood beside me, his arm stiffly around my waist, a public display of grieving fiancé. But his eyes, hollow and haunted, were fixed on the coffin. He never cried openly, but the grief radiating from him was a palpable thing, a suffocating shroud that clung to me.

He handled all the arrangements, as if he were Kianna' s husband, not her friend. He insisted on a specific plot, one overlooking the lake where they used to play as children. It was a beautiful spot, serene and picturesque, a place he would visit every week, placing fresh flowers, whispering words I could never hear. He was always gone for hours. And I was always alone, waiting, knowing I could never compete with a ghost.

A week later, just as I was trying to navigate the raw grief and guilt, his family's lawyers presented me with a substantial sum of money. "For your troubles, Miss Goodman," the stern-faced man in the expensive suit had said, his voice devoid of warmth. "And as a token of our appreciation for your... fortitude during the accident." It was hush money, a bribe to ensure my silence, my complicity in their carefully constructed narrative of Christian's heroism. They wanted a tidy resolution, a seamless merger of our families. Kianna's death was a tragic inconvenience, a hurdle to be overcome.

"You're still going to marry him, aren't you?" my mother had asked, her voice laced with an unsettling blend of concern and calculation. "The merger is too important."

Christian had refused to postpone the wedding, even for a day. "We need this, Alyssa," he' d said, his jaw tight, his eyes hard. "For our families. For Kianna." He' d wrapped his arms around me, a possessive gesture devoid of tenderness. "We belong together."

I remember the chill that ran down my spine, even then. I hadn't understood the depth of his brokenness, the twisted logic that drove his actions. Not until much later. He hadn't wanted me to die, not really. But he hadn't wanted to lose Kianna either. I was the convenient survivor, the one who could be molded, controlled, blamed.

He married me not for love, but for penance. He intended to make me suffer, to experience a fraction of the agony he felt for Kianna's loss. I was his living, breathing scapegoat. The constant reminder of what he believed I had taken from him.

"Why me?" I had screamed at him one night, after he' d pushed me, after I' d fallen and hit my head, blood matting my hair. "Why do you blame me? I didn't cause the accident! The steering column froze! I didn't choose to live!"

He hadn't answered. His silence was a heavier blow than any words. It was the silence of a man who believed his own lies, who projected his guilt onto the easiest target.

Now, standing in the icy water, the SUV groaning its final death rattle around me, I watched him paddle furiously towards Kianna. He clutched her to him, dragging her onto the flimsy raft. He wrapped his coat around her, whispering frantic words against her pale face. His true feelings, raw and undeniable, were laid bare in the flickering emergency light. He was relieved. Truly, deeply relieved that he didn't have to choose between Kianna and me, that I had made the choice for him.

He was devoted to her. Always had been. Always would be. Kianna, his childhood friend, his first love, the one he had always secretly pined for. He never wanted to save me. Not then, not now. He only saved me in the first life because of the societal pressure, the optics, the expectations of our families. Now that I had given him an "out," he took it without a second thought.

I had given him permission to choose Kianna, to save the one he actually loved. He should be grateful. I almost laughed aloud at the thought, the cold spray biting at my face.

The SUV gave a final, mournful groan and plunged beneath the waves, dragging me with it for a moment before my life vest pulled me back to the surface. The blizzard intensified, a howling vortex of white and wind. Christian and Kianna were already a distant, flickering light in the swirling snow, fading from view. They wouldn't be coming back. Not for me.

My past life had been a slow, agonizing death. This one, I would claim for myself. The cold was unbearable, but a fierce, burning resolve ignited within me. I was alone. Truly, utterly alone. But for the first time in my life, that feeling didn't paralyze me. It freed me.

I looked out at the churning, dark water, the angry waves crashing against unseen rocks. Survival was now entirely up to me. And I wouldn't fail.

Continue Reading

Other books by Alfredo Deangelo

More
Escaping The Betrayal's Chill

Escaping The Betrayal's Chill

Modern

5.0

The biting cold was the first thing I felt, deep in the walk-in freezer where Chloe, my wife of five years, had locked me. My punishment for accidentally breaking an outrageously expensive Patek Philippe, a gift not for me, but for Liam O'Connell, her "soulmate" who was returning to the US today. Hours earlier, her face had turned to ice, her voice dangerously quiet, "You clumsy fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?" Her grip like steel, she' d shoved me inside, snarling, "Two hours. Think about what you did," before the heavy door slammed shut. I had loved her, so much so that I' d sold my firm and inheritance to free her from gambling debts, thinking my selfless love had won her heart. A dream shattered by a hidden journal revealing her rage, resentment, and her true love for Liam, whispering to our son, Leo, "This is your real dad." Now, shivering, I heard a muffled thud, then another, against the door, and Leo' s small voice screaming, "Get out! You made Mom unhappy! Get out of here!" A harder kick, "I don't want you as my dad anymore!" My spirit shattered into a million tiny pieces, the cold from the freezer nothing compared to the chill in my soul. Just as consciousness faded, Chloe unlatched the door, the kitchen light blinding me. She found me collapsed, feverish, but her face was a mask of irritation, annoyed she' d been caught, already on the phone with Liam, gushing, "Leo? Oh, he's wonderful. He calls you 'Dad' all the time now. He can't wait to see you." My son looked down at me, his face twisted in disgust, "You're pathetic." That was the moment. The last flicker of hope died. I stumbled to the guest room, my hands shaking. Ignoring calls, I booked a one-way international flight to anywhere, vowing never to return. Two days later, Chloe was seen on the news, chasing my taxi to the airport, screaming my name in a public meltdown no one, least of all me, could have predicted. I still had no idea how deep her betrayal ran.

The Price of His Betrayal

The Price of His Betrayal

Romance

5.0

I once thought my love for Julian Croft was everything, willingly sacrificing my entire identity and unique art to fit his "pious" world. I even became pregnant, convinced his child would finally make me permanent in his life. But his sister, Claire, violently attacked me, kicking my stomach and causing a horrifying miscarriage. Julian, the man I loved, rushed in and only saw Claire, frantically asking if her hand was hurt, completely oblivious to my bleeding body on the floor. When I awoke in the hospital, stripped of my baby and hope, Julian appeared desperate – not for me, but to demand my blood for Claire, who' d been in a car crash. He begged the doctors to save "his Elle," using the same pet name he once whispered to me. In that shattering instant, I realized the ultimate horror: I was never "his Elle"; I was merely a substitute, a stand-in for his twisted, suffocating obsession with his sister. Used and utterly destroyed, forced to save the very woman who had killed my child, I found a cold, clear resolve in the void of my being. I walked out of that hospital, leaving everything behind, vowing to forge a new life far from the wreckage he left. Now, six years later, I'm back in glittering Manhattan, not the broken girl he thought he knew, but Elara, a celebrated artist, a loving wife to Kael, and a proud mother to our son. And Julian Croft is about to learn that the woman he betrayed is no longer picking up discarded rings, but building an empire of her own.

You'll also like

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Reilly Mcardle
5.0

I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong. Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak. I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess. The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years. I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to. But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Xiao Wang
5.0

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao
4.3

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight Alfredo Deangelo Modern
“My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna. He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown. This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn. He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me. This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her. "Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."”
1

Chapter 1

14/01/2026

2

Chapter 2

14/01/2026

3

Chapter 3

14/01/2026

4

Chapter 4

14/01/2026

5

Chapter 5

14/01/2026

6

Chapter 6

14/01/2026

7

Chapter 7

14/01/2026

8

Chapter 8

14/01/2026

9

Chapter 9

14/01/2026

10

Chapter 10

14/01/2026