Justice For Lily

Snootie

Modern | Completed

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I sacrificed my promising career as an architect, becoming a devoted stay-at-home dad so my brilliant, charismatic wife, Nicole, could chase her political dreams. Our daughter, Lily, was my world, the only pure thing left in our gilded life. Then I discovered Nicole was cheating with her ambitious campaign intern. I tried to handle it quietly, discreetly reassigning the intern to a remote, terrible posting. But Nicole' s reaction was ice: she retaliated by locking our beloved six-year-old Lily on our yacht, right as a massive storm rolled in, blackmailing me for the intern' s location. Despite my desperate pleas, she abandoned our daughter to find her lover. I raced to the marina, but it was too late. Lily's faint "Daddy!" scream was swallowed by the violent waves as the yacht capsized, taking my daughter with it. Three days later, they found her tiny body. Yet, Nicole scoffed, rolled her eyes, and accused me of fabricating Lily's death to ruin her campaign. When I brought Lily's cremation urn home, Nicole, with her lover by her side, laughed and slapped it to the floor, scattering my daughter's ashes. That moment something inside me snapped. How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be so devoid of humanity? How could she deny our daughter's death and shatter her remains? The gentle man I was died on that polished floor. But from the ashes of my despair rose a chilling resolve. Nicole had destroyed my life; now, I would systematically dismantle hers. I was no longer a victim. I was the weapon.

Family Betrayal Revenge Drama Personal growth

Chapter 10

01-06 20:45

Introduction

I sacrificed my promising career as an architect, becoming a devoted stay-at-home dad so my brilliant, charismatic wife, Nicole, could chase her political dreams.

Our daughter, Lily, was my world, the only pure thing left in our gilded life.

Then I discovered Nicole was cheating with her ambitious campaign intern.

I tried to handle it quietly, discreetly reassigning the intern to a remote, terrible posting.

But Nicole' s reaction was ice: she retaliated by locking our beloved six-year-old Lily on our yacht, right as a massive storm rolled in, blackmailing me for the intern' s location.

Despite my desperate pleas, she abandoned our daughter to find her lover.

I raced to the marina, but it was too late. Lily's faint "Daddy!" scream was swallowed by the violent waves as the yacht capsized, taking my daughter with it.

Three days later, they found her tiny body.

Yet, Nicole scoffed, rolled her eyes, and accused me of fabricating Lily's death to ruin her campaign.

When I brought Lily's cremation urn home, Nicole, with her lover by her side, laughed and slapped it to the floor, scattering my daughter's ashes. That moment something inside me snapped.

How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be so devoid of humanity?

How could she deny our daughter's death and shatter her remains?

The gentle man I was died on that polished floor.

But from the ashes of my despair rose a chilling resolve. Nicole had destroyed my life;

now, I would systematically dismantle hers.

I was no longer a victim. I was the weapon.