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Desert Bloom: A Song of Vengeance

Desert Bloom: A Song of Vengeance

Gavin

5.0
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I opened my eyes to the familiar crack in my Austin apartment ceiling. My phone buzzed: "Desert Bloom" Release Day. This was it: the day my life ended in a nightmare I'd already lived. Caleb, the Nashville star, would steal my song, ruin my reputation, and trigger a cascading tragedy that led to my parents' death and my own fall from Pennybacker Bridge. But I was here, alive, on that same morning. Panicked, I called my manager, Marcus, and demanded he pull my song immediately. It was too late. Two hours later, a news alert confirmed my horror: Caleb had released "Desert Bloom." It was my song, note for note. Desperate, I wrote an entirely new song offline, recording it on an old 4-track, a raw anthem of rage. Five days later, the headlines screamed: Caleb had released that song too. He wasn't just stealing my music; he was stealing my thoughts, pulling them directly from my mind. The despair was crushing, the violation absolute. How was this possible? My ex-girlfriend, Chloe, then called, inviting me to Caleb's victory party, feigning concern. This wasn't about saving face; it was a trap. But I agreed, for this time, I wasn't just surviving; I was going to Nashville not to beg, but to fight, to find out how deep this impossible betrayal ran, and unleash a force that could make them pay.

Introduction

I opened my eyes to the familiar crack in my Austin apartment ceiling.

My phone buzzed: "Desert Bloom" Release Day.

This was it: the day my life ended in a nightmare I'd already lived.

Caleb, the Nashville star, would steal my song, ruin my reputation, and trigger a cascading tragedy that led to my parents' death and my own fall from Pennybacker Bridge.

But I was here, alive, on that same morning.

Panicked, I called my manager, Marcus, and demanded he pull my song immediately.

It was too late.

Two hours later, a news alert confirmed my horror: Caleb had released "Desert Bloom."

It was my song, note for note.

Desperate, I wrote an entirely new song offline, recording it on an old 4-track, a raw anthem of rage.

Five days later, the headlines screamed: Caleb had released that song too.

He wasn't just stealing my music; he was stealing my thoughts, pulling them directly from my mind.

The despair was crushing, the violation absolute.

How was this possible?

My ex-girlfriend, Chloe, then called, inviting me to Caleb's victory party, feigning concern.

This wasn't about saving face; it was a trap.

But I agreed, for this time, I wasn't just surviving; I was going to Nashville not to beg, but to fight, to find out how deep this impossible betrayal ran, and unleash a force that could make them pay.

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The Unwilling Wife

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The organ music swelled, painting my white wedding dress in shades of blood red. I was marrying Julian Thorne, a man who despised me, believing the lies that had ruined my reputation. This wasn't a marriage; it was a sentence, orchestrated perfectly by my stepsister, Sophia, who had always wanted Julian for herself. Everyone saw Eleanor Vance, the brilliant architect, as the luckiest woman alive, but my heart was a cold stone. As the word "I do" escaped my lips-a whispered surrender-a blinding white light engulfed me. I woke up in my old bedroom, the floral wallpaper still on the walls. My phone read October 12, 2014-ten years ago, the day of my first wedding, the one that never happened. Relief surged through me; I wasn't Julian Thorne's wife. But then dread set in as Sophia's text buzzed on my smaller, older phone: "Julian's family is coming for dinner tonight, you have to make a good impression!" It was all starting tonight, the very dinner where Sophia would introduce me to the Thornes, setting off the chain of events that would lead to my forced marriage. The contempt in Julian's eyes was already there, seeing me as a social climber, exactly the image Sophia had carefully crafted. I was trapped again, a ghost in my own life, burdened by a future I knew was coming: the Thorne family's imminent financial ruin, and my own career sacrificed to support them. But this time, I wasn't the naive girl to be manipulated. I knew all their secrets, and I would not spend another ten years as Eleanor Thorne. I would fight.

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