Too Late, Mark Olsen

Too Late, Mark Olsen

Gavin

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I sacrificed a dream career in Silicon Valley and moved halfway across the country, all to build a life with Mark, the man I loved. But then, an Instagram post shattered my world: Mark, arm around a blonde I didn't know, captioned "Celebrating my new role with the amazing Chloe Vanderbilt!" When I confronted him, he unveiled a callous betrayal, coldly stating Chloe was his girlfriend and I was merely a past chapter, no longer "in his league." My attempt to warn Chloe about his true nature backfired spectacularly, as she dismissed me as a "crazy, jealous ex" and, together with Mark, orchestrated a public humiliation at a downtown bar. The ultimate horror struck moments later when two thugs ambushed me, physically assaulted me, and stole everything, growling a chilling warning to "stay away from Austin." Bruised, traumatized, and stripped bare of my dignity and possessions, I was forced to flee the city that had crumbled my life to dust. How could the man I loved, and his new partner, conspire to destroy me so completely, leaving me feeling utterly abandoned and broken with no one to turn to? The injustice burned hotter than any physical wound, screaming for an answer no one seemed willing to provide. But as my plane lifted off, leaving Austin behind, the despair solidified into steel: I vowed to remake myself, stronger and smarter, and one day, they would realize the true cost of their cruel game.

Introduction

I sacrificed a glittering career opportunity in Silicon Valley, moving across the country to Austin, everything for Mark, believing I was building a blissful future with the man I loved.

My four-year relationship with Mark vanished the moment I saw a single Instagram post: him, smiling, arm around "the amazing Chloe Vanderbilt," a caption filled with hashtags, and the chilling, gut-wrenching realization that she was his new girlfriend.

His subsequent icy dismissal of me-labeling me as "not in the same league" and even offering me a degrading role as his mistress-only foreshadowed the calculated cruelty to come, as he and Chloe orchestrated a public setup at a bar, followed by a brutal alley ambush where I was beaten, robbed, and left with nothing but bruises, trauma, and a forced, desperate flight from Austin.

How could the man I loved, the future I so carefully planned, disintegrate into such a cold, calculated betrayal, leaving me utterly abandoned, financially decimated, and stripped of every ounce of dignity, exiled from a life I thought was mine?

But as the plane climbed, leaving behind the city that had shattered my world, a quiet, fierce resolve ignited deep within my bruised soul: I would rise from these ashes, I would rebuild myself, and one day, I would return to Austin not as a broken victim, but as an unstoppable force ready to reclaim what was taken and enact a justice long overdue.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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