Three years ago, Liam Hayes, the tech titan and my husband, promised to protect me. Now, I sat in the front row of his grand auction, expecting a product launch. Instead, the massive screen behind him flickered to life, not with an innovation, but with intimate photos of my deceased parents. The crowd' s murmurs turned to horrified whispers, their pity a suffocating blanket of shame. He was crucifying their memory, and I, his perfect, supportive wife, trembled with silent agony. When I pleaded with him to take the photos down, his eyes, once so full of warmth, were chillingly empty. "Everything has a price, Ava," he said, holding out a kidney donation consent form. "Donate a kidney to Skylar Vance, and I' ll end this. Their honor for her life. A fair trade." My breath hitched. He was using my dead parents, my most precious memory, to blackmail me, and I had no choice. As I signed, I remembered a secret vow we' d made-a desperate promise to defy a "plot" that dictated he'd leave me for Skylar. He' d sworn he' d fight it, that his heart was always mine. But now, as I was wheeled into surgery, I saw him kiss Skylar' s hand, a look of sacred devotion in his eyes-the same look he used to give me. The mask came down, and I knew: the plot had won. When I woke, alone and empty, the first call I heard was not from him, but from my heartbroken housekeeper. My parents, humiliated by Liam's stunt, had taken their own lives. The man I loved, the man who was supposed to be my protector, had destroyed everything. Now, standing at their desecrated graves, watching him cuddle Skylar, I knew my only path was to disappear forever.
Three years ago, Liam Hayes, the tech titan and my husband, promised to protect me.
Now, I sat in the front row of his grand auction, expecting a product launch. Instead, the massive screen behind him flickered to life, not with an innovation, but with intimate photos of my deceased parents.
The crowd' s murmurs turned to horrified whispers, their pity a suffocating blanket of shame. He was crucifying their memory, and I, his perfect, supportive wife, trembled with silent agony. When I pleaded with him to take the photos down, his eyes, once so full of warmth, were chillingly empty.
"Everything has a price, Ava," he said, holding out a kidney donation consent form. "Donate a kidney to Skylar Vance, and I' ll end this. Their honor for her life. A fair trade."
My breath hitched. He was using my dead parents, my most precious memory, to blackmail me, and I had no choice. As I signed, I remembered a secret vow we' d made-a desperate promise to defy a "plot" that dictated he'd leave me for Skylar. He' d sworn he' d fight it, that his heart was always mine.
But now, as I was wheeled into surgery, I saw him kiss Skylar' s hand, a look of sacred devotion in his eyes-the same look he used to give me. The mask came down, and I knew: the plot had won.
When I woke, alone and empty, the first call I heard was not from him, but from my heartbroken housekeeper. My parents, humiliated by Liam's stunt, had taken their own lives.
The man I loved, the man who was supposed to be my protector, had destroyed everything. Now, standing at their desecrated graves, watching him cuddle Skylar, I knew my only path was to disappear forever.
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