Her Second Life, His Last

Her Second Life, His Last

Gavin

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My sister Eleanor was set to marry Marcus Thorne, a powerful man whose family held immense sway. It was a pre-arranged union, heralded as the cornerstone of a grand alliance between the Harrisons and the Thornes. But my world shattered when I uncovered the horrifying truth: Marcus had orchestrated Eleanor's death, masking it as a "sudden illness." Before I could expose his monstrous secret, a killer's hands clasped my throat. The suffocating scent of expensive oud cologne filled my lungs as my vision faded. My first life ended right there, in my father's study-a place of power that became my tomb. Every attempt to reveal the truth, every desperate plea, was brutally silenced. The injustice was a burning fire within me. How could his heinous crimes go unpunished? The phantom ache of that chokehold, indelibly linked to the memory of that rich, woody scent, fueled an insatiable fury. I died knowing the monster would walk free. But then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my room. It was Eleanor's engagement day once more. This wasn't a nightmare; it was a resurrection. This was my second chance. I knew what I had to do: I would marry Marcus Thorne myself, infiltrating his inner circle to save Eleanor and orchestrate his ultimate downfall. This wasn't just survival; it was war.

Introduction

My sister Eleanor was set to marry Marcus Thorne, a powerful man whose family held immense sway.

It was a pre-arranged union, heralded as the cornerstone of a grand alliance between the Harrisons and the Thornes.

But my world shattered when I uncovered the horrifying truth: Marcus had orchestrated Eleanor's death, masking it as a "sudden illness."

Before I could expose his monstrous secret, a killer's hands clasped my throat.

The suffocating scent of expensive oud cologne filled my lungs as my vision faded.

My first life ended right there, in my father's study-a place of power that became my tomb.

Every attempt to reveal the truth, every desperate plea, was brutally silenced.

The injustice was a burning fire within me.

How could his heinous crimes go unpunished?

The phantom ache of that chokehold, indelibly linked to the memory of that rich, woody scent, fueled an insatiable fury.

I died knowing the monster would walk free.

But then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my room.

It was Eleanor's engagement day once more.

This wasn't a nightmare; it was a resurrection.

This was my second chance.

I knew what I had to do: I would marry Marcus Thorne myself, infiltrating his inner circle to save Eleanor and orchestrate his ultimate downfall.

This wasn't just survival; it was war.

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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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