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The Heiress Who Refused to Be a Pawn

The Heiress Who Refused to Be a Pawn

Gavin

5.0
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As Ava Vanderbilt, an heiress with everything, my biggest obsession was Ethan Blackwood. He was my father's most brilliant protégé, incredibly cold and distant. I saw his indifference not as dislike, but as a mysterious depth, a challenge only I could conquer. I convinced myself his passion was reserved, waiting for me alone. Then came the night I peered into the conservatory. Ethan wasn't just talking to Lily, his "innocent younger sister." He was kissing her, devouring her with a raw, possessive hunger I'd only dreamed of receiving. This wasn't brotherly love; it was undeniable passion. The truth hit like a physical blow: his coldness to me wasn't a facade, it was pure disinterest. But it got worse. I overheard the unthinkable: all my father's proteges, including Ethan, despised me. Every compliment was a lie, every gesture a calculated act to use my marriage to fund Lily's exorbitant dreams. The final sting came when Ethan, to "teach me a lesson," deliberately tampered with my horse's saddle, breaking my leg. Then he publicly sabotaged my credit cards at an auction, humiliating me before New York society to buy Lily a dazzling necklace. My heart, once foolishly infatuated, now felt nothing but ice. How could these men, given everything by my benevolent father, conspire to so cruelly orchestrate my downfall? The betrayal was absolute, the humiliation soul-crushing. Was I truly so pathetic, so blind, that I was just a pawn in their twisted game for Lily? The naive Ava Vanderbilt died that day. In her place, a woman forged in fire and betrayal emerged. My upcoming engagement party, meant to announce my future with honest Carter Sterling, would now be their public reckoning. I would not be a victim. I would reclaim my destiny, and they would all pay.

Introduction

As Ava Vanderbilt, an heiress with everything, my biggest obsession was Ethan Blackwood.

He was my father's most brilliant protégé, incredibly cold and distant.

I saw his indifference not as dislike, but as a mysterious depth, a challenge only I could conquer.

I convinced myself his passion was reserved, waiting for me alone.

Then came the night I peered into the conservatory.

Ethan wasn't just talking to Lily, his "innocent younger sister."

He was kissing her, devouring her with a raw, possessive hunger I'd only dreamed of receiving.

This wasn't brotherly love; it was undeniable passion.

The truth hit like a physical blow: his coldness to me wasn't a facade, it was pure disinterest.

But it got worse.

I overheard the unthinkable: all my father's proteges, including Ethan, despised me.

Every compliment was a lie, every gesture a calculated act to use my marriage to fund Lily's exorbitant dreams.

The final sting came when Ethan, to "teach me a lesson," deliberately tampered with my horse's saddle, breaking my leg.

Then he publicly sabotaged my credit cards at an auction, humiliating me before New York society to buy Lily a dazzling necklace.

My heart, once foolishly infatuated, now felt nothing but ice.

How could these men, given everything by my benevolent father, conspire to so cruelly orchestrate my downfall?

The betrayal was absolute, the humiliation soul-crushing.

Was I truly so pathetic, so blind, that I was just a pawn in their twisted game for Lily?

The naive Ava Vanderbilt died that day.

In her place, a woman forged in fire and betrayal emerged.

My upcoming engagement party, meant to announce my future with honest Carter Sterling, would now be their public reckoning.

I would not be a victim.

I would reclaim my destiny, and they would all pay.

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The Unwilling Wife

The Unwilling Wife

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5.0

The organ music swelled, painting my white wedding dress in shades of blood red. I was marrying Julian Thorne, a man who despised me, believing the lies that had ruined my reputation. This wasn't a marriage; it was a sentence, orchestrated perfectly by my stepsister, Sophia, who had always wanted Julian for herself. Everyone saw Eleanor Vance, the brilliant architect, as the luckiest woman alive, but my heart was a cold stone. As the word "I do" escaped my lips-a whispered surrender-a blinding white light engulfed me. I woke up in my old bedroom, the floral wallpaper still on the walls. My phone read October 12, 2014-ten years ago, the day of my first wedding, the one that never happened. Relief surged through me; I wasn't Julian Thorne's wife. But then dread set in as Sophia's text buzzed on my smaller, older phone: "Julian's family is coming for dinner tonight, you have to make a good impression!" It was all starting tonight, the very dinner where Sophia would introduce me to the Thornes, setting off the chain of events that would lead to my forced marriage. The contempt in Julian's eyes was already there, seeing me as a social climber, exactly the image Sophia had carefully crafted. I was trapped again, a ghost in my own life, burdened by a future I knew was coming: the Thorne family's imminent financial ruin, and my own career sacrificed to support them. But this time, I wasn't the naive girl to be manipulated. I knew all their secrets, and I would not spend another ten years as Eleanor Thorne. I would fight.

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