The Architect of Her Own Ruin

The Architect of Her Own Ruin

Gavin

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Matthew Scott, my fiancé and business partner, looked at me with that serious expression I used to find charming. He told me our architecture firm, our shared dream, was on the verge of bankruptcy. I didn't hesitate when he asked me to invest every dollar of my life savings – the down payment for our future home – into the company. It was for us, he said, to protect our dream. The very next day, I saw an Instagram post from our office manager, Sabrina. It was a photo of a deed for a brand new condo. And on it, clear as day, were the names: Matthew Scott and Sabrina Todd. My savings, gone, for their secret purchase. Before I could even process the betrayal, Sabrina faked a breakdown, accusing me of bullying her for merely 'liking' her post. Matthew, my fiancé, publicly sided with her, demanding I apologize and pay her moving expenses for emotional distress. He called an emergency all-hands meeting, grandstanding about family values while humiliating me in front of the entire office. He even tried to illegally garnish my salary, claiming it was for Sabrina' s brother' s education. The shock, the disbelief, the sheer audacity of being betrayed and then publicly pilloried by the man I loved and trusted with everything. How could he do this? How could he use my hard-earned money and then try to destroy me professionally and financially? That moment, watching him stand there with her, delivering his sick performance, something inside me snapped. I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I simply picked up my phone and called the Texas Workforce Commission to file an illegal wage claim.

Introduction

Matthew Scott, my fiancé and business partner, looked at me with that serious expression I used to find charming.

He told me our architecture firm, our shared dream, was on the verge of bankruptcy.

I didn't hesitate when he asked me to invest every dollar of my life savings – the down payment for our future home – into the company.

It was for us, he said, to protect our dream.

The very next day, I saw an Instagram post from our office manager, Sabrina.

It was a photo of a deed for a brand new condo.

And on it, clear as day, were the names: Matthew Scott and Sabrina Todd.

My savings, gone, for their secret purchase.

Before I could even process the betrayal, Sabrina faked a breakdown, accusing me of bullying her for merely 'liking' her post.

Matthew, my fiancé, publicly sided with her, demanding I apologize and pay her moving expenses for emotional distress.

He called an emergency all-hands meeting, grandstanding about family values while humiliating me in front of the entire office.

He even tried to illegally garnish my salary, claiming it was for Sabrina' s brother' s education.

The shock, the disbelief, the sheer audacity of being betrayed and then publicly pilloried by the man I loved and trusted with everything.

How could he do this?

How could he use my hard-earned money and then try to destroy me professionally and financially?

That moment, watching him stand there with her, delivering his sick performance, something inside me snapped.

I didn't argue.

I didn't cry.

I simply picked up my phone and called the Texas Workforce Commission to file an illegal wage claim.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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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.

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