Unexpected Husband, Unexpected Freedom Won

Unexpected Husband, Unexpected Freedom Won

Gavin

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The green blur of the NYSE ticker board was moments from displaying NexusAI, the culmination of my life' s work. But then, Richard Sterling, my notorious former mentor, appeared, demanding I put his scandalous son, Julian, on my board, or he' d tank my IPO. This was the ninth time; a product launch, a funding round, all held hostage at the last critical second, his network ready to poison the well. He left me stranded, just as a tech gossip headline flashed: "My favorite tech genius is about to get married to her project. So heartbroken!" Liam, my rival and the source of the quote, was my last resort. Fifteen minutes and a frantic blur of rerouted documents later, the bell rang, and 'NexusAI' flashed on the board-with Liam as my new, impromptu partner. We barely made it, securing my freedom from Richard's tyrannical grasp, or so I thought. Later, in his car, Richard attempted to reassert control, offering me exclusive gifts as a transactional "peace offering," a ritual I knew far too well. Then came the sinister news: Julian' s fiancée, Isabella, needed a blood transfusion, and Richard insisted her rare blood type matched mine, demanding I donate. He even offered me his hand in marriage, a grotesque bribe, to control me once more. When I refused, he sent burly security guards to forcibly drag me to the hospital' s donation room, intending to drain me literally and figuratively. Just as the needle hovered over my vein, the door burst open. Liam, pure fury in his eyes, stormed in, having heard my desperate screams from his pocket-dialed phone. "Get your hands off my wife," he snarled, revealing our secret marriage and pulling out the marriage certificate. Richard' s face crumpled, the truth unraveling everything he thought he controlled. As I gathered my last belongings from the apartment Richard had given Isabella, I found a diamond earring and a repair receipt in my desk. The receipt was in Richard's name, confirming a horrifying truth: the baby Isabella was carrying was Richard' s, not Julian' s. The fortress Richard built was not for protection, but to hide a monstrous secret. I walked away from the crumbling empire, leaving Richard and Julian in its ruins. Now, with Liam by my side, I' m building something truly mine, a future where freedom and partnership are the only assets I' ll ever need.

Introduction

The green blur of the NYSE ticker board was moments from displaying NexusAI, the culmination of my life' s work.

But then, Richard Sterling, my notorious former mentor, appeared, demanding I put his scandalous son, Julian, on my board, or he' d tank my IPO.

This was the ninth time; a product launch, a funding round, all held hostage at the last critical second, his network ready to poison the well.

He left me stranded, just as a tech gossip headline flashed: "My favorite tech genius is about to get married to her project. So heartbroken!"

Liam, my rival and the source of the quote, was my last resort.

Fifteen minutes and a frantic blur of rerouted documents later, the bell rang, and 'NexusAI' flashed on the board-with Liam as my new, impromptu partner.

We barely made it, securing my freedom from Richard's tyrannical grasp, or so I thought.

Later, in his car, Richard attempted to reassert control, offering me exclusive gifts as a transactional "peace offering," a ritual I knew far too well.

Then came the sinister news: Julian' s fiancée, Isabella, needed a blood transfusion, and Richard insisted her rare blood type matched mine, demanding I donate.

He even offered me his hand in marriage, a grotesque bribe, to control me once more.

When I refused, he sent burly security guards to forcibly drag me to the hospital' s donation room, intending to drain me literally and figuratively.

Just as the needle hovered over my vein, the door burst open.

Liam, pure fury in his eyes, stormed in, having heard my desperate screams from his pocket-dialed phone.

"Get your hands off my wife," he snarled, revealing our secret marriage and pulling out the marriage certificate.

Richard' s face crumpled, the truth unraveling everything he thought he controlled.

As I gathered my last belongings from the apartment Richard had given Isabella, I found a diamond earring and a repair receipt in my desk.

The receipt was in Richard's name, confirming a horrifying truth: the baby Isabella was carrying was Richard' s, not Julian' s.

The fortress Richard built was not for protection, but to hide a monstrous secret.

I walked away from the crumbling empire, leaving Richard and Julian in its ruins.

Now, with Liam by my side, I' m building something truly mine, a future where freedom and partnership are the only assets I' ll ever need.

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On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news. He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city. The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.” For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets. My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me. So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts. He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked. He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree. He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies.

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