Lydia's Living Doll

Lydia's Living Doll

Sea Jet

5.0
Comment(s)
178
View
11
Chapters

My guardian, Marcus Thorne, kept me in a life of lavish control, a gilded cage where my every thought was observed. On my 18th birthday, my innocent declaration of love shattered his carefully constructed world, unleashing a chilling rage I never knew he possessed. He deemed me "impure," and I woke up in Serenity Pines, a so-called "wellness retreat" that was, in truth, a brutal asylum. There were no therapists, only orderlies who subjected me to "hydrotherapy" and "quiet rooms" designed to break me down, piece by painful piece, until I was a terrified, compliant shadow. I was not his ward, but his twisted tribute, a living doll molded to resemble Lydia, his deceased college sweetheart, an injustice that clawed at my soul. Then, a terminal cancer diagnosis offered a strange, unexpected peace; with nothing left to lose, what more could he possibly take? My final demand was simple: to marry a forgotten boy from my past and finally escape his magnificent prison. With a desperate plan and my last ounce of defiance, I ran, knowing that my freedom would come at a devastating, ultimate price.

Introduction

My guardian, Marcus Thorne, kept me in a life of lavish control, a gilded cage where my every thought was observed.

On my 18th birthday, my innocent declaration of love shattered his carefully constructed world, unleashing a chilling rage I never knew he possessed.

He deemed me "impure," and I woke up in Serenity Pines, a so-called "wellness retreat" that was, in truth, a brutal asylum.

There were no therapists, only orderlies who subjected me to "hydrotherapy" and "quiet rooms" designed to break me down, piece by painful piece, until I was a terrified, compliant shadow.

I was not his ward, but his twisted tribute, a living doll molded to resemble Lydia, his deceased college sweetheart, an injustice that clawed at my soul.

Then, a terminal cancer diagnosis offered a strange, unexpected peace; with nothing left to lose, what more could he possibly take?

My final demand was simple: to marry a forgotten boy from my past and finally escape his magnificent prison.

With a desperate plan and my last ounce of defiance, I ran, knowing that my freedom would come at a devastating, ultimate price.

Continue Reading

Other books by Sea Jet

More
His Betrayal, Her Unveiling

His Betrayal, Her Unveiling

Romance

5.0

The plane descended, and a familiar sense of accomplishment swelled in me. Three months of hotel rooms and construction sites were finally over. I' d just closed the biggest deal of my architectural career in Tokyo, and now, all I could think of was Liam. It was his birthday, and my early return was a secret, a surprise I couldn' t wait to unveil. I clutched the vintage watch for him in my carry-on, imagining his joyful face, picturing us finally back home. But the solid oak door to my sanctuary, my apartment, met me with a sharp, negative beep. Denied. I frowned. My worn fingers fumbled, I must be tired. I typed our anniversary code again, slowly, precisely. Beep. Red light. Denial. A cold unease crept up my spine. This was my home, my code. Liam wouldn' t prank me, especially since he didn' t know I was coming. Then, just as I reached for my phone, the door swung open. A heavy slam to the side of my head. Pain exploded. The world tilted. A young woman, maybe early twenties, stood in my doorway, holding one of my own art books. "Who the hell are you?" she shrieked, panicked, a delicate, handcrafted silver gingko leaf hairpin tucked into her messy blonde hair. My hairpin. I stumbled past her, into my apartment, and the world fell away. My minimalist, elegant space was gone, replaced by a nightmare of vibrant pink and fluffy textures. Cheap pop star posters covered my walls. My custom Italian leather sofa was replaced by a lumpy, glittery monstrosity. The air reeked of cheap perfume and burnt sugar. My home office was a makeup room. My blueprints, my life's work, shoved into a corner, stained and crumpled. My mother' s priceless antique lace wedding dress, wine-stained. Torn photos of Liam and me, our memories, scattered in the trash. "Get out!" Chloe shrieked, shaking my arm. "This is my home! Liam will be back any minute!" Liam. The name was a key, unlocking a torrent of horrifying possibilities. Then, her sleeve slid back, revealing a sleek, modern watch with a distinctive blue face. The men' s version of the matching couple' s watches I'd bought for Liam' s birthday, still gift-wrapped in my luggage. My eyes scanned the unrecognizable living room. My gallery wall of our life together was gone. In its place: Liam and Chloe kissing under the Eiffel Tower, on a boat, at a family barbecue with his parents. Every single picture of me was gone. I had been erased. "I hope you like what I' ve done with the place," Chloe purred, her voice brimming with proud ownership. "Liam said the old style was so cold and impersonal. He loves how warm and cozy it is now. He says it finally feels like a real home." Each word was a deliberate blow, telling me I was inadequate, replaced. She picked up a framed photo of them. "Liam was so tired of everything being so perfect and professional. He needed someone to just… take care of him. A soft place to land." The implication was clear: I, with my career and independence, was his stress. She, this cloying woman, was his "soft place." For a moment, I felt nothing but a vast, hollow emptiness.

You'll also like

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan
4.9

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book