Shattered Light: A Queen's Vengeance

Shattered Light: A Queen's Vengeance

Gavin

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I woke up back in my old novitiate room. The sunlight was weak, my head ached, but it wasn't physical pain. It was the crushing weight of a whole life, stolen, crashing back into me. Years of sacrifice, of pouring my heart into others-Ethan, Maya, Mr. Henderson-all ripped away. My deepest devotions, twisted by a dark ritual, a "Charm of Transference," meant to siphon my spiritual credit to my sister, Seraphina. She was lauded for my true work, celebrated for my love, while I was publicly shamed, exiled, and left to die, broken and alone. Now, I' m back, and the game is already in motion. Alistair is setting the stage for Seraphina's rise, forcing me down familiar paths of betrayal. I tried to change things, to build something real with Kai, to honor Mr. Henderson. But again, Seraphina claimed every ounce of my effort, my love, my sacrifice as her own, leaving me stripped bare, exiled, deemed "unworthy." Each repeated betrayal, a fresh cut, compounded the rage that had settled deep within me. How could they keep stealing my life, my essence, transforming my pure intentions into their glittering lies? The injustice was a living thing, purer and more potent than any "Grace" they pretended to embody. It burned away the last vestiges of the hopeful girl I once was. No more. I died once, broken and alone, with anger as my only companion. This time, my pain is my power, my rage a crucible. On the eve of Seraphina' s coronation, I won' t just endure. I will shatter their illusion, severing the very source of their stolen power, even if it means destroying myself in the process. The game has changed. I am back, and this time, I play to win.

Introduction

I woke up back in my old novitiate room.

The sunlight was weak, my head ached, but it wasn't physical pain. It was the crushing weight of a whole life, stolen, crashing back into me.

Years of sacrifice, of pouring my heart into others-Ethan, Maya, Mr. Henderson-all ripped away.

My deepest devotions, twisted by a dark ritual, a "Charm of Transference," meant to siphon my spiritual credit to my sister, Seraphina.

She was lauded for my true work, celebrated for my love, while I was publicly shamed, exiled, and left to die, broken and alone.

Now, I' m back, and the game is already in motion. Alistair is setting the stage for Seraphina's rise, forcing me down familiar paths of betrayal.

I tried to change things, to build something real with Kai, to honor Mr. Henderson. But again, Seraphina claimed every ounce of my effort, my love, my sacrifice as her own, leaving me stripped bare, exiled, deemed "unworthy."

Each repeated betrayal, a fresh cut, compounded the rage that had settled deep within me.

How could they keep stealing my life, my essence, transforming my pure intentions into their glittering lies?

The injustice was a living thing, purer and more potent than any "Grace" they pretended to embody. It burned away the last vestiges of the hopeful girl I once was.

No more. I died once, broken and alone, with anger as my only companion.

This time, my pain is my power, my rage a crucible. On the eve of Seraphina' s coronation, I won' t just endure.

I will shatter their illusion, severing the very source of their stolen power, even if it means destroying myself in the process.

The game has changed. I am back, and this time, I play to win.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

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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