The CEO's Widow of Vengeance

The CEO's Widow of Vengeance

Gavin

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I was seven months pregnant, excitedly awaiting the arrival of our child. My husband, Ethan, the brilliant CEO of VanceTech, seemed utterly devoted. Our life was perfect. Then, a sudden fall. A blinding pain, then a hollow emptiness where my baby used to be. But the worst was yet to come. I woke up paralyzed, my body aching with a profound loss, only to overhear Ethan's chilling conversation. He was discussing not just my forced hysterectomy, but discreetly arranging "permanent lower-body paralysis." And then, the gut-wrenching truth: his "partner" Chloe, also pregnant, was his mistress. She was there, in our home, holding a newborn named Gabriel, the very name Ethan and I had chosen for our first lost child. My world shattered. I later found his hidden tablet, a digital archive of his monstrous betrayal. Photos of Chloe, pregnant. Chat logs detailing six "Project Nightingale" events – my previous miscarriages, each an "accident" orchestrated by them. Videos of him and Chloe in our bed. The man I loved, planned to destroy me, to keep me "easier to manage." The ultimate insult came when Chloe, holding his child, deliberately scratched herself and screamed I had attacked her, and Ethan, without hesitation, condemned me. My pain was unimaginable, but a cold, hard resolve began to set in. He thought he had broken me. He was wrong. This wasn't just betrayal. This was war. Sarah Miller, the quiet software architect, was gone. In her place, a woman bent on justice, armed with secrets and code, was rising from the ashes.

Introduction

I was seven months pregnant, excitedly awaiting the arrival of our child.

My husband, Ethan, the brilliant CEO of VanceTech, seemed utterly devoted. Our life was perfect.

Then, a sudden fall. A blinding pain, then a hollow emptiness where my baby used to be.

But the worst was yet to come.

I woke up paralyzed, my body aching with a profound loss, only to overhear Ethan's chilling conversation.

He was discussing not just my forced hysterectomy, but discreetly arranging "permanent lower-body paralysis."

And then, the gut-wrenching truth: his "partner" Chloe, also pregnant, was his mistress.

She was there, in our home, holding a newborn named Gabriel, the very name Ethan and I had chosen for our first lost child. My world shattered.

I later found his hidden tablet, a digital archive of his monstrous betrayal.

Photos of Chloe, pregnant.

Chat logs detailing six "Project Nightingale" events – my previous miscarriages, each an "accident" orchestrated by them.

Videos of him and Chloe in our bed.

The man I loved, planned to destroy me, to keep me "easier to manage."

The ultimate insult came when Chloe, holding his child, deliberately scratched herself and screamed I had attacked her, and Ethan, without hesitation, condemned me.

My pain was unimaginable, but a cold, hard resolve began to set in.

He thought he had broken me. He was wrong.

This wasn't just betrayal.

This was war. Sarah Miller, the quiet software architect, was gone.

In her place, a woman bent on justice, armed with secrets and code, was rising from the ashes.

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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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