Betrayed By The Fiance: The Unsinkable Heiress

Betrayed By The Fiance: The Unsinkable Heiress

Gavin

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My first life ended in the icy, unforgiving grasp of the Hudson River. The memory of the dark water choking me, burning my lungs, was as real as the silk sheets I lay on now. Ethan' s voice, a blade to my soul, still pierced me: "You deserve it, Ava, for stealing Chloe' s life." Noah, the kind cousin who, despite his weak heart, desperately tried to save me, struggled and disappeared beneath the waves alongside me. Then, miraculously, I gasped awake in my opulent SoHo bedroom, sunlight warming my face, a stark contrast to the cold dread that now gripped me. My phone buzzed with a reminder: "Lunch with Ethan, 1PM." Panic surged – it was today. The very day Chloe Jenkins, a deluded scholarship student, had convinced my fiancé, Ethan, that she was the real Miller heiress, leading him to betray me. The brutal memories weren' t a dream; they were a chilling premonition, every detail of my impending kidnapping and murder replaying in vivid terror. How could the man I was to marry so easily believe such an insane lie, so readily trade me for a perceived better option? His betrayal had been a fresh wound even in my last moments, and now it was a ghost haunting my every breath. Ava Miller, the Miller heiress, was alive, but the exact script of my agonizing death was already written, the cruel actors in place, their roles meticulously cast. I remembered Chloe' s smug face at the desolate pier, just before she snatched my phone, relishing the thought of me begging for my life. But this time, I wouldn' t repeat the past. I wouldn't call Ethan. My trembling fingers scrolled past his name, reaching instead for Jackson, my fiercely protective brother and the CEO of the Miller empire. Then, a cryptic text to Noah Williams, the gentle soul who died trying to save me. This time, I would rewrite the ending.

Introduction

My first life ended in the icy, unforgiving grasp of the Hudson River.

The memory of the dark water choking me, burning my lungs, was as real as the silk sheets I lay on now.

Ethan' s voice, a blade to my soul, still pierced me: "You deserve it, Ava, for stealing Chloe' s life."

Noah, the kind cousin who, despite his weak heart, desperately tried to save me, struggled and disappeared beneath the waves alongside me.

Then, miraculously, I gasped awake in my opulent SoHo bedroom, sunlight warming my face, a stark contrast to the cold dread that now gripped me.

My phone buzzed with a reminder: "Lunch with Ethan, 1PM."

Panic surged – it was today.

The very day Chloe Jenkins, a deluded scholarship student, had convinced my fiancé, Ethan, that she was the real Miller heiress, leading him to betray me.

The brutal memories weren' t a dream; they were a chilling premonition, every detail of my impending kidnapping and murder replaying in vivid terror.

How could the man I was to marry so easily believe such an insane lie, so readily trade me for a perceived better option?

His betrayal had been a fresh wound even in my last moments, and now it was a ghost haunting my every breath.

Ava Miller, the Miller heiress, was alive, but the exact script of my agonizing death was already written, the cruel actors in place, their roles meticulously cast.

I remembered Chloe' s smug face at the desolate pier, just before she snatched my phone, relishing the thought of me begging for my life.

But this time, I wouldn' t repeat the past.

I wouldn't call Ethan.

My trembling fingers scrolled past his name, reaching instead for Jackson, my fiercely protective brother and the CEO of the Miller empire.

Then, a cryptic text to Noah Williams, the gentle soul who died trying to save me.

This time, I would rewrite the ending.

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Olivia Morgan stood at the deserted runway, her one-way ticket to Milan clutched in her hand, leaving behind a cold penthouse and a husband who should have known why. Her best friend Emily' s call confirmed her escape, urging her not to look back. But back at the penthouse, her husband, Ethan Carter, a man defined by power, was handed divorce papers by his assistant, Sophia, just as he was about to rush to the airport to stop Olivia. Furious but dismissive, he signed them without a glance, certain it was a bluff to grab his attention, and tossed his primary credit card to Sophia, telling her to "handle it." Sophia's triumphant smirk, masked by feigned concern, was lost on him as he sped off, determined to win Olivia back, unaware his assistant had just texted Olivia' s lawyer: "He signed. It's done." Olivia, seeing her lawyer' s confirmation, felt the last flicker of hope die. This cold, swift dismissal, rather than a fight or negotiation, brought a strange, quiet peace. But this peace was short-lived. Olivia returned to the penthouse for legal reasons, only to find Ethan flaunting Sophia, who openly taunted Olivia. When Sophia dramatically faked an injury to frame Olivia, Ethan, without question, lashed out, publicly humiliating Olivia, culminating in a brutal, public assault. Imprisoned by Ethan in a windowless "discipline room," Olivia faced escalating cruelty, including the withholding of her vital heart medication, as Ethan, blinded by Sophia' s manipulation, refused to believe his wife' s innocence, his acts leading to devastating physical and emotional injuries. How could the man who promised to protect her become this monster, and why did he so readily believe every lie Sophia spun against her, transforming from a loving husband into a tormentor? Then, Sophia' s malicious charade of "poisoning" at her own birthday party, another attempt to frame Olivia, led to Ethan's ultimate, brutal public attack on Olivia, witnessed by guests and his own grandfather, forcing Olivia to confront the final, crushing truth: there was no going back, and she had to fight for her life-and her freedom-away from him.

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