A Debt of Life, Repaid in Blood

A Debt of Life, Repaid in Blood

Gavin

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The ER waiting room hummed with a familiar, sickly glow. But tonight, I wasn't the paramedic on call. I was just Andrew, a guy in a hoodie, staring at my phone. My fiancée, Jennifer, lay supposedly critical after a hit-and-run. They said she needed emergency brain surgery. The nurse demanded payment upfront. With a cold, practiced mask, I showed them my banking app. "$17.42." That's all I had left, I claimed. It was after a "sophisticated online scam" wiped me out. Jennifer' s "parents" - two actors she' d hired - wailed. They begged me to save her. They even proposed a monstrous deal. Their son' s heart for my sick mother' s life. The world watched as a good Samaritan nurse started a GoFundMe. She was painting me as a heartless monster who' d let his fiancée die. The video went viral. Donations poured in, "saving" Jennifer. Meanwhile, my career and reputation crumbled. Every phone call from my chief was a stab. Every hateful comment online was a stab. But I didn't care. They called me a sociopath, a villain. How could I let them believe such a lie? How could I be so callous, so indifferent to the woman I was supposed to marry? My mother's fragile heart. My ruined career. It all felt like a twisted nightmare. But this wasn't my first time living this nightmare. In another life, I was the fool who fell for it all. I watched my mother die because of Jennifer' s cruel "loyalty test." This time, I knew the game. This time, I was ready to play my own hand.

Introduction

The ER waiting room hummed with a familiar, sickly glow.

But tonight, I wasn't the paramedic on call.

I was just Andrew, a guy in a hoodie, staring at my phone.

My fiancée, Jennifer, lay supposedly critical after a hit-and-run.

They said she needed emergency brain surgery.

The nurse demanded payment upfront.

With a cold, practiced mask, I showed them my banking app.

"$17.42."

That's all I had left, I claimed.

It was after a "sophisticated online scam" wiped me out.

Jennifer' s "parents" - two actors she' d hired - wailed.

They begged me to save her.

They even proposed a monstrous deal.

Their son' s heart for my sick mother' s life.

The world watched as a good Samaritan nurse started a GoFundMe.

She was painting me as a heartless monster who' d let his fiancée die.

The video went viral.

Donations poured in, "saving" Jennifer.

Meanwhile, my career and reputation crumbled.

Every phone call from my chief was a stab.

Every hateful comment online was a stab.

But I didn't care.

They called me a sociopath, a villain.

How could I let them believe such a lie?

How could I be so callous, so indifferent to the woman I was supposed to marry?

My mother's fragile heart.

My ruined career.

It all felt like a twisted nightmare.

But this wasn't my first time living this nightmare.

In another life, I was the fool who fell for it all.

I watched my mother die because of Jennifer' s cruel "loyalty test."

This time, I knew the game.

This time, I was ready to play my own hand.

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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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