Obsessed: A Second Chance Thriller

Obsessed: A Second Chance Thriller

Gavin

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June 14th. The date burned into my mind like a brand. I woke in my bed, David still asleep beside me, and saw the familiar sunlight pouring through the window. This was the day. The day everything began to unravel in my last life. In that life, my sorority sister, my supposed best friend Brittany, systematically destroyed me. She poisoned David's mind against me, tried to steal him, and when he rejected her, she drove us straight into a deadly accident. I died. My life, my love, extinguished by her venomous jealousy. The betrayal was a cold, constant ache. To be eliminated by the person you confided in, the one you loved like a sister, simply because she couldn't have what was yours. It wasn't just a car crash; it was an assassination engineered by a twisted mind. I died feeling utterly helpless, unjustly robbed of my future. But this time, I wouldn't be a victim. This time, I had a second chance, a do-over. I sat bolt upright, heart thumping not with fear, but with fierce determination. "David," I whispered, shaking him awake. "We need to get married. Today. Right now." I was back, and this time, I would rewrite my fate, starting by securing my future.

Introduction

June 14th.

The date burned into my mind like a brand.

I woke in my bed, David still asleep beside me, and saw the familiar sunlight pouring through the window.

This was the day.

The day everything began to unravel in my last life.

In that life, my sorority sister, my supposed best friend Brittany, systematically destroyed me.

She poisoned David's mind against me, tried to steal him, and when he rejected her, she drove us straight into a deadly accident.

I died.

My life, my love, extinguished by her venomous jealousy.

The betrayal was a cold, constant ache.

To be eliminated by the person you confided in, the one you loved like a sister, simply because she couldn't have what was yours.

It wasn't just a car crash; it was an assassination engineered by a twisted mind.

I died feeling utterly helpless, unjustly robbed of my future.

But this time, I wouldn't be a victim.

This time, I had a second chance, a do-over.

I sat bolt upright, heart thumping not with fear, but with fierce determination.

"David," I whispered, shaking him awake.

"We need to get married.

Today.

Right now."

I was back, and this time, I would rewrite my fate, starting by securing my future.

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On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news. He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city. The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.” For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets. My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me. So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts. He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked. He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree. He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies.

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