The Vance Redemption

The Vance Redemption

Gavin

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Ellie Vance. The name spoke volumes: old New England money, Ivy League polish, groomed to be the perfect partner for Governor Will Harrison III. Our wedding plans filled a thick binder, a union of legacy and ambition, celebrated by all. Then came the Kentucky Derby. Will, usually so focused on image, became captivated by Tiffany Rourke, a brash, loud Texas oil heiress-everything I wasn't. A week later, he uttered the chilling words: "I've fallen for Tiff. You're perfect, on paper." He casually suggested I accept a "lesser role" or a quiet end to our engagement, a public demotion unthinkable for a Vance woman. My family's dignity, my very identity, felt assaulted. The heirloom diamond on my finger, once a symbol of promise, now felt tainted and heavy. "You're always so sensible, Ellie. You'll see this is for the best," he'd dismissed, as if my life, our shared future, was a minor inconvenience. A cold, burning contempt replaced my shock. Vances are not "options." We are not "second best." Who did he think I was? A drop of blood bloomed on my pristine wedding binder, a final, painful mark. And a cold resolve set in. My path was clear: I would not just survive this humiliation; I would redefine what winning truly meant. My first call was to Will's mother, Catherine Harrison. Get ready, Washington.

Introduction

Ellie Vance.

The name spoke volumes: old New England money, Ivy League polish, groomed to be the perfect partner for Governor Will Harrison III.

Our wedding plans filled a thick binder, a union of legacy and ambition, celebrated by all.

Then came the Kentucky Derby.

Will, usually so focused on image, became captivated by Tiffany Rourke, a brash, loud Texas oil heiress-everything I wasn't.

A week later, he uttered the chilling words: "I've fallen for Tiff.

You're perfect, on paper."

He casually suggested I accept a "lesser role" or a quiet end to our engagement, a public demotion unthinkable for a Vance woman.

My family's dignity, my very identity, felt assaulted.

The heirloom diamond on my finger, once a symbol of promise, now felt tainted and heavy.

"You're always so sensible, Ellie.

You'll see this is for the best," he'd dismissed, as if my life, our shared future, was a minor inconvenience.

A cold, burning contempt replaced my shock.

Vances are not "options."

We are not "second best."

Who did he think I was?

A drop of blood bloomed on my pristine wedding binder, a final, painful mark.

And a cold resolve set in.

My path was clear: I would not just survive this humiliation; I would redefine what winning truly meant.

My first call was to Will's mother, Catherine Harrison.

Get ready, Washington.

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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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