Waking Up To Betrayal

Waking Up To Betrayal

Gavin

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Sarah, a thriving architect, gently touched her four-month baby bump, filled with the boundless joy of expecting her first child. Beside her, her loving husband, Mark, awaited the perfect news from their routine prenatal check-up. But then, Mark, an analytical doctor, accessed the baby's full genetic report on the hospital system. His bright smile evaporated, his face turned a sickly, ashen gray, and his previously warm eyes became cold, hard. "This pregnancy," Mark flatly declared, "It's non-viable. We need to schedule a therapeutic abortion. Immediately." Sarah's world shattered as the man she cherished transformed into a merciless stranger demanding the abortion of their seemingly healthy child. Her powerful parents arrived, not to protect her, but her esteemed father' s face erupted in furious judgment after seeing the report. Her socialite mother chillingly decided, "This is problematic. The pregnancy must be managed. Quietly." They coerced her into a secluded wellness retreat, medicated her into a fog, and orchestrated a miscarriage that tragically led to her death, baffled and utterly betrayed. How could her perfect family conspire such a monstrous act for a baby everyone said was healthy? What unspeakable secret did that genetic report hold that destroyed her life and heart? Then, Sarah jolted awake in her own bed, back to the very morning of that harrowing appointment. The nightmarish memories of her past death were terrifyingly visceral-a second chance. This time, she wouldn't be a victim. She would fight to save her baby, starting by getting that full, revealing genetic report herself. The truth, and her determined survival, would finally be unearthed.

Introduction

Sarah, a thriving architect, gently touched her four-month baby bump, filled with the boundless joy of expecting her first child.

Beside her, her loving husband, Mark, awaited the perfect news from their routine prenatal check-up.

But then, Mark, an analytical doctor, accessed the baby's full genetic report on the hospital system.

His bright smile evaporated, his face turned a sickly, ashen gray, and his previously warm eyes became cold, hard.

"This pregnancy," Mark flatly declared, "It's non-viable. We need to schedule a therapeutic abortion. Immediately."

Sarah's world shattered as the man she cherished transformed into a merciless stranger demanding the abortion of their seemingly healthy child.

Her powerful parents arrived, not to protect her, but her esteemed father' s face erupted in furious judgment after seeing the report.

Her socialite mother chillingly decided, "This is problematic. The pregnancy must be managed. Quietly."

They coerced her into a secluded wellness retreat, medicated her into a fog, and orchestrated a miscarriage that tragically led to her death, baffled and utterly betrayed.

How could her perfect family conspire such a monstrous act for a baby everyone said was healthy?

What unspeakable secret did that genetic report hold that destroyed her life and heart?

Then, Sarah jolted awake in her own bed, back to the very morning of that harrowing appointment.

The nightmarish memories of her past death were terrifyingly visceral-a second chance.

This time, she wouldn't be a victim.

She would fight to save her baby, starting by getting that full, revealing genetic report herself.

The truth, and her determined survival, would finally be unearthed.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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