Too Late, Richard

Too Late, Richard

Gavin

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For eight long years, I was trapped in Richard Blackwood's mansion, an agreement to care for his son, Ethan, after my sister Eleanor's death, but I called it a cage. Just as my contract neared its end, Ethan accused me publicly at a glittering gala, screaming that I was trying to replace his mother. Richard, ever the dismissive patriarch, instantly took his son's side, leaving me humiliated and isolated. His cold indifference deepened when Ethan destroyed my sentimental belongings, culminating in the heart-wrenching death of my beloved dog, Buddy, at Ethan's hands, which Richard shrugged off as an accident. He even tried to offer me the freedom from birth control as a 'favor' for my service, then brought in a younger Eleanor look-alike, Tiffany, to openly replace me. How could they consistently strip away my dignity and dismiss my grief, only to then try and buy my loyalty back? The pain was a constant throb, yet my resolve hardened with each calculated insult and dismissal. My breaking point came when Ethan, echoing Tiffany's cruel words, shot me with a slingshot as I left, delivering a final, petty wound. That moment snapped the last lingering thread of attachment; I dropped a silver charm at his feet, definitively severing our tie. I picked up my bag, ignored Richard's threats, and walked out the door, knowing my true freedom, and a new life, awaited in Montana.

Introduction

For eight long years, I was trapped in Richard Blackwood's mansion, an agreement to care for his son, Ethan, after my sister Eleanor's death, but I called it a cage.

Just as my contract neared its end, Ethan accused me publicly at a glittering gala, screaming that I was trying to replace his mother.

Richard, ever the dismissive patriarch, instantly took his son's side, leaving me humiliated and isolated.

His cold indifference deepened when Ethan destroyed my sentimental belongings, culminating in the heart-wrenching death of my beloved dog, Buddy, at Ethan's hands, which Richard shrugged off as an accident.

He even tried to offer me the freedom from birth control as a 'favor' for my service, then brought in a younger Eleanor look-alike, Tiffany, to openly replace me.

How could they consistently strip away my dignity and dismiss my grief, only to then try and buy my loyalty back?

The pain was a constant throb, yet my resolve hardened with each calculated insult and dismissal.

My breaking point came when Ethan, echoing Tiffany's cruel words, shot me with a slingshot as I left, delivering a final, petty wound.

That moment snapped the last lingering thread of attachment; I dropped a silver charm at his feet, definitively severing our tie.

I picked up my bag, ignored Richard's threats, and walked out the door, knowing my true freedom, and a new life, awaited in Montana.

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His Secret Son, Her Stolen Fortune

His Secret Son, Her Stolen Fortune

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5.0

I found the document by accident. Aiden was away, and I was looking for my mother' s old earrings in the safe when my fingers brushed against a thick, unfamiliar file folder. It wasn't mine. It was the "Herrera Family Trust," and the primary beneficiary of Aiden' s massive fortune wasn't me, his wife of seven years. It was a five-year-old boy named Leo Herrera, and his legal guardian, listed as the secondary beneficiary, was Haven Herrera-my adopted sister-in-law. My family lawyer confirmed it an hour later. It was real. Ironclad. Established five years ago. The phone slipped from my hand. A cold numbness spread through me. Seven years. I had spent seven years justifying Aiden's madness, his rages, his possessiveness, believing it was a twisted part of his love. I stumbled through the cold, silent mansion to the east wing, drawn by the sound of laughter. Through the glass doors, I saw them: Aiden, bouncing Leo on his knee, Haven beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. And with them, smiling and cooing at the child, were Aiden's parents. My in-laws. They were a perfect family. "Aiden, the final transfer of the Knox assets into Leo' s trust is complete," his father said, raising a glass of champagne. "It's all airtight now." "Good," Aiden replied, his voice calm. "Charlotte's family money should have always belonged to a true Herrera heir." My inheritance. My family's legacy. Transferred to his secret son. My own money, used to secure the future of his betrayal. They had all known. They had all conspired. His rage, his paranoia, his sickness-it wasn't for everyone. It was a special hell he had reserved just for me. I backed away from the door, my body cold as ice. I ran back to our bedroom, the one we had shared for seven years, and locked the door. I looked at my reflection, at the ghost of the woman I used to be. A quiet vow formed on my lips, silent but absolute. "Aiden Herrera," I whispered to the empty room. "I will never see you again."

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