From Mistress to Mrs. Sullivan

From Mistress to Mrs. Sullivan

Gavin

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My half-sister, Claire, stood in the town square, her dramatically broken engagement a public spectacle. Her tears flowed freely, a performance of distraught innocence she'd perfected. I watched, a familiar chill settling in my chest. This was exactly how it started last time. Shortly after, my fiancé, Ethan Prescott, found me. His handsome face was etched with practiced concern. He declared he had to marry Claire to save her reputation, then coolly promised I'd still be his-his mistress in the shadows. In my past life, my refusal led to Claire's staged suicide, public shaming, isolation, and years of abuse under Ethan's roof, ending in his violent plot that killed me and my unborn child. This time, the rumors branding me cruel spread like wildfire. Ethan even threatened to send Mrs. Gable, my past tormentor, to "train" me into submission. He explicitly told me to wear dove-grey for his wedding, befitting a mistress. The echoes of my worst nightmare were deafening. How could he repeat such calculated cruelty, and why was I doomed to this cycle of torment? The injustice, the sheer audacity of their manipulation, burned within me. But this time, I wouldn't scream or refuse. Armed with grim foresight, I calmly accepted his proposal. My audacious secret was already in motion: I would marry Captain Jack Sullivan, Ethan's bitter rival, and reclaim my life.

Introduction

My half-sister, Claire, stood in the town square, her dramatically broken engagement a public spectacle.

Her tears flowed freely, a performance of distraught innocence she'd perfected.

I watched, a familiar chill settling in my chest.

This was exactly how it started last time.

Shortly after, my fiancé, Ethan Prescott, found me.

His handsome face was etched with practiced concern.

He declared he had to marry Claire to save her reputation, then coolly promised I'd still be his-his mistress in the shadows.

In my past life, my refusal led to Claire's staged suicide, public shaming, isolation, and years of abuse under Ethan's roof, ending in his violent plot that killed me and my unborn child.

This time, the rumors branding me cruel spread like wildfire.

Ethan even threatened to send Mrs. Gable, my past tormentor, to "train" me into submission.

He explicitly told me to wear dove-grey for his wedding, befitting a mistress.

The echoes of my worst nightmare were deafening.

How could he repeat such calculated cruelty, and why was I doomed to this cycle of torment?

The injustice, the sheer audacity of their manipulation, burned within me.

But this time, I wouldn't scream or refuse.

Armed with grim foresight, I calmly accepted his proposal.

My audacious secret was already in motion: I would marry Captain Jack Sullivan, Ethan's bitter rival, and reclaim my life.

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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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