My Wedding Night, Her Vengeance

My Wedding Night, Her Vengeance

Gavin

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My wedding night was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, my fiancée, Chloe Vance, brought a dead man to our bed – Liam, her adored junior developer. "Kneel," she commanded, her voice chillingly devoid of the warmth I had once foolishly sought. I knelt on a bed of broken circuits and shattered motherboards, agonizingly sharp against my skin. She forced me to apologize ten thousand times to a corpse, accusing me of stealing Liam's success and driving him to his death. But it was all a lie; I had simply won the AI competition, a prize that was meant to be hers and Liam's. She injected me with a toxic performance-enhancer, amplifying every sensation into agony. Then, she unleashed a torrent of anonymous hackers, forcing me to watch as they systematically cyber-assaulted and dismantled my entire digital life. She recorded it all, crafting a narrative of me as a cheating scumbag, a monster who had destroyed an innocent man. The world believed her, and the public shame, coupled with vicious online attacks, tragically killed my parents. Chloe moved swiftly, seizing my family's tech empire, the company my father had built from nothing. I died in that room, a broken man, humiliated to death. But then, I woke up. I was back at the beginning, a year before the competition's end, the AI prototype humming softly on my desk. This time, I wouldn't be a sacrifice for their twisted love. I would not win; I would let Liam have the victory, and Chloe. All I wanted was to live.

Introduction

My wedding night was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

Instead, my fiancée, Chloe Vance, brought a dead man to our bed – Liam, her adored junior developer.

"Kneel," she commanded, her voice chillingly devoid of the warmth I had once foolishly sought.

I knelt on a bed of broken circuits and shattered motherboards, agonizingly sharp against my skin.

She forced me to apologize ten thousand times to a corpse, accusing me of stealing Liam's success and driving him to his death.

But it was all a lie; I had simply won the AI competition, a prize that was meant to be hers and Liam's.

She injected me with a toxic performance-enhancer, amplifying every sensation into agony.

Then, she unleashed a torrent of anonymous hackers, forcing me to watch as they systematically cyber-assaulted and dismantled my entire digital life.

She recorded it all, crafting a narrative of me as a cheating scumbag, a monster who had destroyed an innocent man.

The world believed her, and the public shame, coupled with vicious online attacks, tragically killed my parents.

Chloe moved swiftly, seizing my family's tech empire, the company my father had built from nothing.

I died in that room, a broken man, humiliated to death.

But then, I woke up.

I was back at the beginning, a year before the competition's end, the AI prototype humming softly on my desk.

This time, I wouldn't be a sacrifice for their twisted love.

I would not win; I would let Liam have the victory, and Chloe.

All I wanted was to live.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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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.

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