The Cost of Nine Stars

The Cost of Nine Stars

Gavin

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My entire life revolved around a sacred power that cost me a piece of my soul every time I used it. Nine star-like birthmarks on my forearm, each fading after I resurrected Ethan, the adoptive brother I believed had saved me. I had brought him back from the dead nine times, from drug overdoses to twisted car wrecks, each revival leaving me more hollowed out. But today, standing in a reeking stable, the ultimate degradation struck as Ethan, now a desperate heir, demanded I perform my vanished miracle on a dead racehorse for his crooked deal. My power was long gone, all nine stars extinguished, yet he sneered, refusing to believe me, calling me selfish and an "ungrateful bitch." He had Tiff, his social-media-obsessed girlfriend, publicly "cleanse" me as a cruel mockery of my ancient ritual. Then he tried to drag me towards the dead stallion, ready to force a miracle I couldn't perform, seeing me as nothing but a worthless tool. The endless humiliation, the years of abuse, and the terrifying emptiness inside me became an unbearable weight. How could he be so blind to the fact that I had absolutely nothing left to give? I was a commodity, passed from one gilded cage to another, facing an eternity of exploitation. In a final, desperate act of defiance, to reclaim myself even if it meant death, I bolted from the stable and sprinted headlong into the path of an oncoming car. But instead of oblivion, strong hands pulled me back from the brink, and for the first time in forever, I saw the face that would rewrite my entire past: Julian Thorne.

Introduction

My entire life revolved around a sacred power that cost me a piece of my soul every time I used it.

Nine star-like birthmarks on my forearm, each fading after I resurrected Ethan, the adoptive brother I believed had saved me.

I had brought him back from the dead nine times, from drug overdoses to twisted car wrecks, each revival leaving me more hollowed out.

But today, standing in a reeking stable, the ultimate degradation struck as Ethan, now a desperate heir, demanded I perform my vanished miracle on a dead racehorse for his crooked deal.

My power was long gone, all nine stars extinguished, yet he sneered, refusing to believe me, calling me selfish and an "ungrateful bitch."

He had Tiff, his social-media-obsessed girlfriend, publicly "cleanse" me as a cruel mockery of my ancient ritual.

Then he tried to drag me towards the dead stallion, ready to force a miracle I couldn't perform, seeing me as nothing but a worthless tool.

The endless humiliation, the years of abuse, and the terrifying emptiness inside me became an unbearable weight.

How could he be so blind to the fact that I had absolutely nothing left to give?

I was a commodity, passed from one gilded cage to another, facing an eternity of exploitation.

In a final, desperate act of defiance, to reclaim myself even if it meant death, I bolted from the stable and sprinted headlong into the path of an oncoming car.

But instead of oblivion, strong hands pulled me back from the brink, and for the first time in forever, I saw the face that would rewrite my entire past: Julian Thorne.

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When Love Turns to Ash

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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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I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

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The Wine Press
4.7

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

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