Where the Snow Falls Soft

Where the Snow Falls Soft

Gavin

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My life with Mark was perfect, or so I thought. Seven years together, a cozy apartment in Chicago, and a baby on the way. Then a car accident stole our future. I lay on the pavement, bleeding and terrified, dialing Mark, only for him to answer with an annoyed shrug-off from his 'client'. Just minutes later, I saw him drive by, him in the passenger seat, his intern Jessie at the wheel. The hospital confirmed my biggest fear: I'd lost the baby. That night, alone at home, I found expensive lingerie, definitely not for me, hidden in our closet. It was for Jessie. The next betrayal came wrapped in buttercream: Mark asked me to bake an elaborate birthday cake for his "important agency client." It was Jessie. And if that wasn't enough, at her lavish party, Jessie flaunted my anniversary bracelet, telling me Mark said it was "just something old lying around." My heart turned to stone as I grasped the depth of his cruelty and indifference. To lose our baby, only to uncover this twisted deception, the public humiliation, and his utter contempt for my feelings. How could one person be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy? Enough was enough. At that party, I handed him a document-the termination of our shared lease. As he scribbled his name, oblivious, I knew my decision was final. I walked out of that party and his life forever, ready to reclaim my power and start anew. But first, he had to pay.

Introduction

My life with Mark was perfect, or so I thought.

Seven years together, a cozy apartment in Chicago, and a baby on the way.

Then a car accident stole our future.

I lay on the pavement, bleeding and terrified, dialing Mark, only for him to answer with an annoyed shrug-off from his 'client'.

Just minutes later, I saw him drive by, him in the passenger seat, his intern Jessie at the wheel.

The hospital confirmed my biggest fear: I'd lost the baby.

That night, alone at home, I found expensive lingerie, definitely not for me, hidden in our closet.

It was for Jessie.

The next betrayal came wrapped in buttercream: Mark asked me to bake an elaborate birthday cake for his "important agency client."

It was Jessie.

And if that wasn't enough, at her lavish party, Jessie flaunted my anniversary bracelet, telling me Mark said it was "just something old lying around."

My heart turned to stone as I grasped the depth of his cruelty and indifference.

To lose our baby, only to uncover this twisted deception, the public humiliation, and his utter contempt for my feelings.

How could one person be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy?

Enough was enough.

At that party, I handed him a document-the termination of our shared lease.

As he scribbled his name, oblivious, I knew my decision was final.

I walked out of that party and his life forever, ready to reclaim my power and start anew.

But first, he had to pay.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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4.5

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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