A Family's Fierce Protection

A Family's Fierce Protection

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
49
View
11
Chapters

I' m Sarah Miller, a Grammy-winning music producer who prefers the quiet of a studio. But tonight, I was enduring a club after-party for my stepson Alex, a talented musician I cherished like my own. I also harbored a secret: I was twelve weeks pregnant with our miracle IVF baby, cherished by my husband, the tech billionaire Michael Thorne. Suddenly, Alex' s pop-star girlfriend, Jessi Vance, descended, eyes blazing for the cameras. "She's trying to get close to Alex!" she shrieked, pulling him in a staged outburst. "An older woman, trying to steal my boyfriend!" she screamed, shoving me hard. The online world exploded, branding me a cougar, a predator. Days later, Jessi tracked me to my studio sanctuary, her fake tears gone, replaced by pure rage. "You think you can ruin my life and get away with it?" she screamed, lunging. She pushed me violently, sending me stumbling backward into a console. A searing pain shot through my abdomen. I crumpled, gasping, clutching myself. Not now. Please, not now. "I' m pregnant," I whispered, barely audible, as the precious life Michael and I had fought for, year after agonizing year, was slipping away. How could this manipulative child' s public stunt and physical assault cost me everything? Just when despair threatened to overwhelm me, the studio doors burst open. Michael Thorne, my husband, strode in, his gaze ice-cold. "This woman," he declared, his voice cutting through the silence, "is my wife." The narrative didn't just flip; it shattered.

Introduction

I' m Sarah Miller, a Grammy-winning music producer who prefers the quiet of a studio.

But tonight, I was enduring a club after-party for my stepson Alex, a talented musician I cherished like my own.

I also harbored a secret: I was twelve weeks pregnant with our miracle IVF baby, cherished by my husband, the tech billionaire Michael Thorne.

Suddenly, Alex' s pop-star girlfriend, Jessi Vance, descended, eyes blazing for the cameras.

"She's trying to get close to Alex!" she shrieked, pulling him in a staged outburst.

"An older woman, trying to steal my boyfriend!" she screamed, shoving me hard.

The online world exploded, branding me a cougar, a predator.

Days later, Jessi tracked me to my studio sanctuary, her fake tears gone, replaced by pure rage.

"You think you can ruin my life and get away with it?" she screamed, lunging.

She pushed me violently, sending me stumbling backward into a console.

A searing pain shot through my abdomen.

I crumpled, gasping, clutching myself. Not now. Please, not now.

"I' m pregnant," I whispered, barely audible, as the precious life Michael and I had fought for, year after agonizing year, was slipping away.

How could this manipulative child' s public stunt and physical assault cost me everything?

Just when despair threatened to overwhelm me, the studio doors burst open.

Michael Thorne, my husband, strode in, his gaze ice-cold.

"This woman," he declared, his voice cutting through the silence, "is my wife."

The narrative didn't just flip; it shattered.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
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.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book