Betrayed By Her Beloved

Betrayed By Her Beloved

Gavin

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Ten years. That' s how long I' d spent in Ironwood, a frozen hell disguised as a "rehabilitation" facility, stripped bare. Finally, I was home, a woman I barely recognized, clinging to Marcus and Leo' s hollow promises of normalcy. I just wanted peace, to be safe. The recycled air inside felt foreign after the clean Alaskan crispness. But peace was a cruel illusion. I overheard them talking, my husband and my son, their voices low and urgent. "She took the fall," Marcus confessed, "It was convenient." My blood ran cold. The "Aegis data breach" that stole a decade of my life was no accident of negligence, but a calculated frame-up by my own family to protect Vivian. Their "sympathy" was a meticulously constructed performance. My husband, the man who comforted me, was having an affair with my adoptive sister, Vivian, who now held my former title. She paraded in front of me wearing the gown Marcus had commissioned for my anniversary. My son, Leo, defended her, then burned my cherished journals for him, making space for "Aunt Viv's" things. This house was not a home, but a gilded cage built on lies. My own father lauded Vivian as a family "asset," subtly shaming me. The trust that had flickered within me was extinguished, replaced by a cold, burning fury. They had conveniently buried me for ten years in a brutal Alaskan prison, then expected me to play along. My heart hammered with an overwhelming sense of injustice and betrayal. They thought I was still broken. They were wrong. Amidst the ashes of my old life, my mother's cryptic words from years ago echoed: "The Seraphina Protocol. My escape hatch." A meticulous archivist, a planner, was reawakening. The gala would be their stage, yes. But soon, it would be mine.

Introduction

Ten years. That' s how long I' d spent in Ironwood, a frozen hell disguised as a "rehabilitation" facility, stripped bare.

Finally, I was home, a woman I barely recognized, clinging to Marcus and Leo' s hollow promises of normalcy.

I just wanted peace, to be safe. The recycled air inside felt foreign after the clean Alaskan crispness.

But peace was a cruel illusion.

I overheard them talking, my husband and my son, their voices low and urgent.

"She took the fall," Marcus confessed, "It was convenient."

My blood ran cold.

The "Aegis data breach" that stole a decade of my life was no accident of negligence, but a calculated frame-up by my own family to protect Vivian.

Their "sympathy" was a meticulously constructed performance.

My husband, the man who comforted me, was having an affair with my adoptive sister, Vivian, who now held my former title.

She paraded in front of me wearing the gown Marcus had commissioned for my anniversary.

My son, Leo, defended her, then burned my cherished journals for him, making space for "Aunt Viv's" things.

This house was not a home, but a gilded cage built on lies.

My own father lauded Vivian as a family "asset," subtly shaming me.

The trust that had flickered within me was extinguished, replaced by a cold, burning fury.

They had conveniently buried me for ten years in a brutal Alaskan prison, then expected me to play along.

My heart hammered with an overwhelming sense of injustice and betrayal.

They thought I was still broken.

They were wrong.

Amidst the ashes of my old life, my mother's cryptic words from years ago echoed: "The Seraphina Protocol. My escape hatch."

A meticulous archivist, a planner, was reawakening.

The gala would be their stage, yes.

But soon, it would be mine.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

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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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