The Million-Dollar Escape

The Million-Dollar Escape

Gavin

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I was a struggling musician in Brooklyn, barely making ends meet. Then I found Vic, an amnesiac girl with wide, scared eyes, and my world changed. We shared instant noodles and cheap wine, her laughter filling my cramped studio. She believed in my music, even when I didn't, and her gift of my grandmother' s vintage guitar pick became a symbol of our pure, impossible love. But then, Vic remembered her past. She transformed into Victoria Ashford, a cold, sharp heiress, returning to her glittering world. The woman who once fussed over my paper cuts now looked at me with polite indifference. Our profound connection was replaced by her mother' s demands and Spencer Hayes, her new, polished fiancé. I became her humiliation, a relic from a life she disavowed. At a lavish gala, she dismissed my pain when Spencer' s friends deliberately crushed my guitar hand. The hand I needed for every note, every chord, now irrevocably damaged. My music, my livelihood, my very soul, was shattered as she stood by, unmoving. How could the girl who understood my deepest dreams become this calculating stranger? How could she watch my life' s passion be destroyed without a flicker of remorse? The truth was colder than any winter: she saw my suffering as mere inconvenience. Then, her mother offered me a million dollars to disappear. A breakup fee for a love she never recognized. I took it, not as defeat, but as the only way to escape the golden cage and rebuild. I left, determined to forge a new path, far from the echoes of what we once were.

Introduction

I was a struggling musician in Brooklyn, barely making ends meet.

Then I found Vic, an amnesiac girl with wide, scared eyes, and my world changed.

We shared instant noodles and cheap wine, her laughter filling my cramped studio.

She believed in my music, even when I didn't, and her gift of my grandmother' s vintage guitar pick became a symbol of our pure, impossible love.

But then, Vic remembered her past.

She transformed into Victoria Ashford, a cold, sharp heiress, returning to her glittering world.

The woman who once fussed over my paper cuts now looked at me with polite indifference.

Our profound connection was replaced by her mother' s demands and Spencer Hayes, her new, polished fiancé.

I became her humiliation, a relic from a life she disavowed.

At a lavish gala, she dismissed my pain when Spencer' s friends deliberately crushed my guitar hand.

The hand I needed for every note, every chord, now irrevocably damaged.

My music, my livelihood, my very soul, was shattered as she stood by, unmoving.

How could the girl who understood my deepest dreams become this calculating stranger?

How could she watch my life' s passion be destroyed without a flicker of remorse?

The truth was colder than any winter: she saw my suffering as mere inconvenience.

Then, her mother offered me a million dollars to disappear.

A breakup fee for a love she never recognized.

I took it, not as defeat, but as the only way to escape the golden cage and rebuild.

I left, determined to forge a new path, far from the echoes of what we once were.

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On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news. He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city. The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.” For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets. My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me. So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts. He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked. He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree. He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

Gavin
4.2

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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