My Betrayed Heart, My Stolen Life

My Betrayed Heart, My Stolen Life

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
85
View
12
Chapters

The first thing I heard wasn't a doctor's voice but a detached system humming in my head: "Welcome back, Liam Miller." I woke from a six-month coma, only to find my home infested. My wife Sarah, pale and distant, offered no embrace, just a flat, "You're back." My children, Emily and Josh, stared at me like a stranger, then scurried behind another man. He was in my clothes, in my spot at my table, with his arm around my wife-Mark Harrison, a disturbing mirror image of me, radiating triumph. My son, Josh, clutched Mark's leg and mumbled, "You' re not our daddy. Mark is our daddy." Even my in-laws, David and Carol, defended this usurper, accusing me of being "confused" and "causing trouble." I, Liam Miller, successful architect, loving husband and father, was a ghost in my own life, stripped of everything. Later, in my own living room, Sarah's phone flashed with a text from "M ❤️": "Can't wait for tonight. The kids will be asleep soon. I'll make sure he's out of the way." The betrayal was no longer a suspicion; it was a cold, hard truth. I watched, hidden, as Sarah and Mark shared an intimate kiss in my bed, heard my children call him "Daddy Mark." Then, Mark staged a scene, deliberately injuring himself and framing me for the attack. "You animal!" David roared, striking me as Emily shrieked, "I hate you! We don't want you here!" Condemned by my own family, I knew there was no going back. Just as they threw me out, I heard the roar of a familiar engine. It was Mark's car, speeding toward me. The impact. A sledgehammer of force. I lay broken, bleeding. My mother-in-law, Carol, hung up on my plea for help, accusing me of a "stunt." Then, a bowl of soup, a "gift" from Carol, reeked faintly of peanuts-the allergen that could kill me. They weren't just trying to erase me; they were actively trying to murder me. Lying in my hospital bed, I finally spoke to the voice in my head. "System," I thought, "I'm ready. I accept. Get me out of here. Whatever it takes."

Introduction

The first thing I heard wasn't a doctor's voice but a detached system humming in my head: "Welcome back, Liam Miller."

I woke from a six-month coma, only to find my home infested.

My wife Sarah, pale and distant, offered no embrace, just a flat, "You're back."

My children, Emily and Josh, stared at me like a stranger, then scurried behind another man.

He was in my clothes, in my spot at my table, with his arm around my wife-Mark Harrison, a disturbing mirror image of me, radiating triumph.

My son, Josh, clutched Mark's leg and mumbled, "You' re not our daddy. Mark is our daddy."

Even my in-laws, David and Carol, defended this usurper, accusing me of being "confused" and "causing trouble."

I, Liam Miller, successful architect, loving husband and father, was a ghost in my own life, stripped of everything.

Later, in my own living room, Sarah's phone flashed with a text from "M ❤️": "Can't wait for tonight. The kids will be asleep soon. I'll make sure he's out of the way."

The betrayal was no longer a suspicion; it was a cold, hard truth.

I watched, hidden, as Sarah and Mark shared an intimate kiss in my bed, heard my children call him "Daddy Mark."

Then, Mark staged a scene, deliberately injuring himself and framing me for the attack.

"You animal!" David roared, striking me as Emily shrieked, "I hate you! We don't want you here!"

Condemned by my own family, I knew there was no going back.

Just as they threw me out, I heard the roar of a familiar engine. It was Mark's car, speeding toward me.

The impact. A sledgehammer of force. I lay broken, bleeding.

My mother-in-law, Carol, hung up on my plea for help, accusing me of a "stunt."

Then, a bowl of soup, a "gift" from Carol, reeked faintly of peanuts-the allergen that could kill me.

They weren't just trying to erase me; they were actively trying to murder me.

Lying in my hospital bed, I finally spoke to the voice in my head.

"System," I thought, "I'm ready. I accept. Get me out of here. Whatever it takes."

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.5

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.

Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha

Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha

Werewolf

4.3

I was the Pack’s shame, a twenty-year-old "Runt" who had never shifted. Yet, I clung to the desperate hope that Alpha Marcus, the man I had loved my entire life, would finally claim me at the Full Moon Gala. Instead, he stood before the entire Pack with Izzy, a woman who looked at him with hunger rather than love. With eyes as cold as stone, he didn't just ignore me; he destroyed me. "I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes." The rejection snapped our bond, but the nightmare was just beginning. When Izzy framed me for poisoning her, Marcus didn't hesitate. He chained me in the dungeon and wielded the silver whip himself. Each lash burned like liquid fire, tearing through my skin as he demanded a confession I couldn't give. I woke up in a pool of my own blood, only to hear the nurse whisper the truth I was never meant to know. The silver toxicity hadn't just broken my body; it had killed the unborn pup I didn't even know I was carrying. Marcus had whipped the mother of his own child to protect a liar. He had killed his heir for a woman who was faking her own pregnancy. That night, as I crawled through the mud to escape, the weak Runt died. In the freezing waters of the river, my bones snapped and reshaped. I didn't just shift; I became the legendary White Wolf. And when Marcus finally realized the truth and came begging on his knees, I looked at him with my new, violet eyes and prepared to give him the rejection he deserved.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book