His Wife, Her Intern, And The Watch

His Wife, Her Intern, And The Watch

Gavin

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My phone buzzed, pulling me from millions in quarterly reports. It was Instagram. I found a picture of my wife' s intern, Ethan, smirking, wearing my grandfather' s prized Rolex – a priceless family heirloom. His caption: "A huge thank you to the most generous boss and mentor, Sabrina Anderson, for this incredible gift." Rage, cold and sharp, washed over me. I messaged her, "Where is my watch?" Her reply: "I loaned it to Ethan. Relax, Nate. Don't be so dramatic. It's just a watch." "Just a watch." Her words shattered everything. All the sacrifices, the empire I built for her. My anger turned to icy resolve. She didn't just disrespect the watch; she disrespected my family, my history, and me. I made a call. Her custom Porsche, impounded. Her designer wardrobe, shredded. There was no turning back. This wasn't just about a watch; it was about reclaiming my life.

Introduction

My phone buzzed, pulling me from millions in quarterly reports. It was Instagram.

I found a picture of my wife' s intern, Ethan, smirking, wearing my grandfather' s prized Rolex – a priceless family heirloom.

His caption: "A huge thank you to the most generous boss and mentor, Sabrina Anderson, for this incredible gift."

Rage, cold and sharp, washed over me. I messaged her, "Where is my watch?"

Her reply: "I loaned it to Ethan. Relax, Nate. Don't be so dramatic. It's just a watch."

"Just a watch." Her words shattered everything. All the sacrifices, the empire I built for her.

My anger turned to icy resolve. She didn't just disrespect the watch; she disrespected my family, my history, and me.

I made a call. Her custom Porsche, impounded. Her designer wardrobe, shredded.

There was no turning back. This wasn't just about a watch; it was about reclaiming my life.

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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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