My Stolen Life: The Billionaire\'s Revenge

My Stolen Life: The Billionaire\'s Revenge

Gavin

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The black SUV pulled up to my childhood D.C. estate after ten years away. I stepped out, expecting a quiet, perhaps strained, family dinner. Instead, a lavish party was in full swing, music and laughter spilling from the open doors. Then I saw her: my cousin, Chloe, wearing my dress, laughing with Julian Vance-my fiancé from a decade ago. My research. My fellowship. She was claiming it all as her own, right in front of me. Just as confusion ripped through me, my mother, Eleanor, appeared, her face hardening into an icy mask. "Ava," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "What are you doing here?" Before I could demand an explanation, she cut me off, announcing Chloe' s engagement and achievements as if I didn't exist. When I protested, claiming my stolen life, my own mother publicly declared me "unwell" and "confused," a danger under medical care. My father, David, stood silent, then sided with her, allowing security to drag me away and lock me in a secluded wing of my own home. Betrayal ripped through me, a suffocating blanket of disbelief. How could my family do this? Erase me, steal my entire existence, and frame me as insane? But then, my father returned, a tray with sedatives in hand, and a flicker in his eyes-a silent warning, a hidden promise. This wasn't abandonment. This was a staged escape. I took the pills, publicly "dying" as Ava, knowing I was about to be reborn.

Introduction

The black SUV pulled up to my childhood D.C. estate after ten years away.

I stepped out, expecting a quiet, perhaps strained, family dinner.

Instead, a lavish party was in full swing, music and laughter spilling from the open doors.

Then I saw her: my cousin, Chloe, wearing my dress, laughing with Julian Vance-my fiancé from a decade ago.

My research. My fellowship. She was claiming it all as her own, right in front of me.

Just as confusion ripped through me, my mother, Eleanor, appeared, her face hardening into an icy mask.

"Ava," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Before I could demand an explanation, she cut me off, announcing Chloe' s engagement and achievements as if I didn't exist.

When I protested, claiming my stolen life, my own mother publicly declared me "unwell" and "confused," a danger under medical care.

My father, David, stood silent, then sided with her, allowing security to drag me away and lock me in a secluded wing of my own home.

Betrayal ripped through me, a suffocating blanket of disbelief.

How could my family do this? Erase me, steal my entire existence, and frame me as insane?

But then, my father returned, a tray with sedatives in hand, and a flicker in his eyes-a silent warning, a hidden promise.

This wasn't abandonment. This was a staged escape.

I took the pills, publicly "dying" as Ava, knowing I was about to be reborn.

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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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