A Billionaire's Second Chance

A Billionaire's Second Chance

Gavin

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My last breath was a gasp of pure, stupid shock. The sterile white room, the doctor' s flat voice delivering my death sentence-a massive coronary, brought on by stress. But it wasn't stress. It was betrayal. My wife, Jennifer, stood over me, her sweet mask replaced by a cold, triumphant sneer. "The baby?" she hissed, her voice dripping venom. "It' s Ryan' s. It was always going to be Ryan' s." Ryan. Her childhood sweetheart. The man whose limp I pitied, whose medical bills I paid, fueling their luxurious life. She laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "I came to your room right after I finished with Ryan. We planned it all, you pathetic fool. I never loved you. I despised you. Thanks for the easy life." The pain in my chest wasn't just my failing heart. It was the crushing weight of my own idiocy. My billions bought me the most elaborate, painful death imaginable. My vision tunneled, Jennifer' s hateful face the last thing I saw. Then, a roar filled my ears. The Texas sun on my neck. I was on one knee, a diamond bracelet glittering in my hand, facing Jennifer Smith. This was it. The exact moment I sealed my doom. The grand, public proposal that had cost me everything. But this time, I knew. I knew about Ryan' s fake limp. I knew they' d slept together less than an hour ago. I knew this was all a carefully staged play. This time, things would be different. This time, I' d rewrite my ending.

Introduction

My last breath was a gasp of pure, stupid shock.

The sterile white room, the doctor' s flat voice delivering my death sentence-a massive coronary, brought on by stress.

But it wasn't stress. It was betrayal.

My wife, Jennifer, stood over me, her sweet mask replaced by a cold, triumphant sneer.

"The baby?" she hissed, her voice dripping venom. "It' s Ryan' s. It was always going to be Ryan' s."

Ryan. Her childhood sweetheart. The man whose limp I pitied, whose medical bills I paid, fueling their luxurious life.

She laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "I came to your room right after I finished with Ryan. We planned it all, you pathetic fool. I never loved you. I despised you. Thanks for the easy life."

The pain in my chest wasn't just my failing heart. It was the crushing weight of my own idiocy. My billions bought me the most elaborate, painful death imaginable. My vision tunneled, Jennifer' s hateful face the last thing I saw.

Then, a roar filled my ears. The Texas sun on my neck. I was on one knee, a diamond bracelet glittering in my hand, facing Jennifer Smith.

This was it. The exact moment I sealed my doom. The grand, public proposal that had cost me everything.

But this time, I knew. I knew about Ryan' s fake limp. I knew they' d slept together less than an hour ago. I knew this was all a carefully staged play.

This time, things would be different. This time, I' d rewrite my ending.

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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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