Our Story, Rebuilt

Our Story, Rebuilt

Gavin

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"No one," I whispered, clutching the phone in my pocket as Liam' s voice cut through the sterile silence of our penthouse. He was no longer the brilliant tech genius I loved, but a monster fueled by grief. His grip like steel clamps, he snatched my phone, his cruel laugh echoing as he twisted my words: "You lost that right the day you killed Chloe." My sister. His accusation, a daily poison, blamed me for an accident he refused to believe. He shoved me into the sharp edge of a glass table, then dragged me to our bedroom, once a haven, now a torture chamber. Night after night, his touch was a brutal punishment, a violation I endured, detaching my mind from my humiliating reality. He whispered into the darkness, "You stood on that balcony and you watched her fall." He had created his own truth, casting me as the villain, ignoring my pleas, deaf to the fact I'd tried to save her. Months of torment, a gilded cage, and I finally understood: this wasn't just grief. He was being manipulated by a "system," a voice on his phone whispering venom, twisting his obsession. My father, cold and distant, chose Liam's side, abandoning me to a man determined to make me pay for a crime I didn't commit. Broken and alone, I knew there was only one way out. I would fake my death. I would escape this living hell and finally be free.

Introduction

"No one," I whispered, clutching the phone in my pocket as Liam' s voice cut through the sterile silence of our penthouse. He was no longer the brilliant tech genius I loved, but a monster fueled by grief.

His grip like steel clamps, he snatched my phone, his cruel laugh echoing as he twisted my words: "You lost that right the day you killed Chloe." My sister. His accusation, a daily poison, blamed me for an accident he refused to believe.

He shoved me into the sharp edge of a glass table, then dragged me to our bedroom, once a haven, now a torture chamber. Night after night, his touch was a brutal punishment, a violation I endured, detaching my mind from my humiliating reality.

He whispered into the darkness, "You stood on that balcony and you watched her fall." He had created his own truth, casting me as the villain, ignoring my pleas, deaf to the fact I'd tried to save her.

Months of torment, a gilded cage, and I finally understood: this wasn't just grief. He was being manipulated by a "system," a voice on his phone whispering venom, twisting his obsession.

My father, cold and distant, chose Liam's side, abandoning me to a man determined to make me pay for a crime I didn't commit. Broken and alone, I knew there was only one way out.

I would fake my death. I would escape this living hell and finally be free.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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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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