The Girl Who Refused to Be Broken

The Girl Who Refused to Be Broken

Gavin

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My whole life was about getting out of this blue-collar town. Ivy League scholarships were my ticket, and I lived and breathed SAT prep. My best friend, Bree Van Doren, struggled with her studies, her family's hardware store failing. She always said I made it look so easy. Then Bree suggested a "study retreat" at her remote family cabin in the Adirondacks. After she handed me a bottle of water, that's the last thing I remembered before darkness. I woke up on a dirt floor, head pounding, in a filthy shack. This was no cabin; this was a nightmare. The Petersons, a rough, menacing family, treated me like an animal. Then Bree appeared, her face shockingly cold, flatly admitting she sold me to them. For a few hundred bucks and a beat-up snowmobile, my "best friend" had erased her academic competition. I was to "keep Cletus company." Sold. Like an object. For a snowmobile. Every Ivy League dream I had, reduced to ash. Panic clawed at my throat. How? Why? Even my own cousin, Jake, seeing me bruised and desperate, didn't recognize me. But a silent scream of "NO" echoed in my mind. I would not break. I was Sarah Miller, and my formidable grandparents, Eli and Agnes Miller, would find me. And when they did, Bree Van Doren would pay.

Introduction

My whole life was about getting out of this blue-collar town.

Ivy League scholarships were my ticket, and I lived and breathed SAT prep.

My best friend, Bree Van Doren, struggled with her studies, her family's hardware store failing.

She always said I made it look so easy.

Then Bree suggested a "study retreat" at her remote family cabin in the Adirondacks.

After she handed me a bottle of water, that's the last thing I remembered before darkness.

I woke up on a dirt floor, head pounding, in a filthy shack.

This was no cabin; this was a nightmare.

The Petersons, a rough, menacing family, treated me like an animal.

Then Bree appeared, her face shockingly cold, flatly admitting she sold me to them.

For a few hundred bucks and a beat-up snowmobile, my "best friend" had erased her academic competition.

I was to "keep Cletus company."

Sold. Like an object. For a snowmobile.

Every Ivy League dream I had, reduced to ash.

Panic clawed at my throat. How? Why?

Even my own cousin, Jake, seeing me bruised and desperate, didn't recognize me.

But a silent scream of "NO" echoed in my mind.

I would not break.

I was Sarah Miller, and my formidable grandparents, Eli and Agnes Miller, would find me.

And when they did, Bree Van Doren would pay.

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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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