My Husband, My Hero, My Baby

My Husband, My Hero, My Baby

Gavin

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The holographic face of Ms. Albright shimmered, echoing a prediction: at twenty, I' d face a heartbreak, a betrayal that would shatter my world. It was my father' s solution – a high-tech "blind date" app with ninety-nine vetted bachelors – that changed everything. The catch wasn't just my hand in marriage; it was Miller Tech, his entire empire. A cold dread seeped in, a memory so sharp it felt real. In my past life, this was where my destruction began. I remembered choosing Brandon Hayes, the charismatic CEO, who promised the world then systematically destroyed me. He stripped me of everything – my inheritance, my dignity, my name – framing me for corporate espionage. I died alone, my reputation shattered, watching him praised as a visionary. But now, I was back. Twenty again, standing in my father' s office, the app open on the tablet. "Chloe, honey? Are you alright? You look pale." I looked at my father, his face etched with genuine concern, and a fierce, protective love surged through me. This time, I would not let that monster destroy him, or me. My finger hovered over Brandon's profile, a perfect trap. With a deliberate, steady hand, I swiped his profile to the digital trash bin. "I don' t like him," I said, my voice flat. I closed my eyes and let my finger fall randomly on one of the ninety-eight remaining profiles. A new screen loaded. The picture was grainy, a low-quality headshot: Jake "Bulldog" Riley. Former Navy SEAL. Honorably discharged after a career-ending injury. "Him?" my father' s voice was laced with disbelief. "He' s... a nobody." "I' m sure, Dad," I said, My voice unwavering. This was my choice. Anyone but Brandon Hayes. I had a feeling about him. A lie and the truest thing I' d ever said. The news of my choice rippled through the city' s elite, painting me as a naive fool or rebellious brat. Brandon must have heard. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't possibly know that I was choosing a stranger not out of foolishness, but out of the bitter, hard-won wisdom of a ghost. A fragmented memory surfaced – a charity gala years ago, a fire. Brandon had claimed credit for getting me out, but now, another image fought its way forward. Someone strong, silent, moving with purpose through the chaos. He had pulled me through a service exit, away from the stampeding crowd, before melting back into the shadows. I never saw his face clearly – until now. What if my random choice wasn' t so random after all?

Introduction

The holographic face of Ms. Albright shimmered, echoing a prediction: at twenty, I' d face a heartbreak, a betrayal that would shatter my world.

It was my father' s solution – a high-tech "blind date" app with ninety-nine vetted bachelors – that changed everything.

The catch wasn't just my hand in marriage; it was Miller Tech, his entire empire.

A cold dread seeped in, a memory so sharp it felt real.

In my past life, this was where my destruction began.

I remembered choosing Brandon Hayes, the charismatic CEO, who promised the world then systematically destroyed me.

He stripped me of everything – my inheritance, my dignity, my name – framing me for corporate espionage.

I died alone, my reputation shattered, watching him praised as a visionary.

But now, I was back.

Twenty again, standing in my father' s office, the app open on the tablet.

"Chloe, honey? Are you alright? You look pale."

I looked at my father, his face etched with genuine concern, and a fierce, protective love surged through me.

This time, I would not let that monster destroy him, or me.

My finger hovered over Brandon's profile, a perfect trap.

With a deliberate, steady hand, I swiped his profile to the digital trash bin.

"I don' t like him," I said, my voice flat.

I closed my eyes and let my finger fall randomly on one of the ninety-eight remaining profiles.

A new screen loaded.

The picture was grainy, a low-quality headshot: Jake "Bulldog" Riley.

Former Navy SEAL.

Honorably discharged after a career-ending injury.

"Him?" my father' s voice was laced with disbelief.

"He' s... a nobody."

"I' m sure, Dad," I said, My voice unwavering.

This was my choice.

Anyone but Brandon Hayes.

I had a feeling about him.

A lie and the truest thing I' d ever said.

The news of my choice rippled through the city' s elite, painting me as a naive fool or rebellious brat.

Brandon must have heard.

He couldn't understand it.

He couldn't possibly know that I was choosing a stranger not out of foolishness, but out of the bitter, hard-won wisdom of a ghost.

A fragmented memory surfaced – a charity gala years ago, a fire.

Brandon had claimed credit for getting me out, but now, another image fought its way forward.

Someone strong, silent, moving with purpose through the chaos.

He had pulled me through a service exit, away from the stampeding crowd, before melting back into the shadows.

I never saw his face clearly – until now.

What if my random choice wasn' t so random after all?

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When Love Turns to Ash

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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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I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

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