His Downfall, Her Freedom

Name: His Downfall, Her Freedom
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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Our ten-year anniversary party was supposed to be a celebration of us, but it felt like a monument to my husband Mark' s success, and my slow disappearance. I, Ava Green, the architect, had become Ava Thompson, the invisible hostess. Then, he walked in, late as usual, his arm around his latest young "mentee," Chloe Davis. He introduced her to a room full of fawning investors, publicly parading her, barely even looking at me. "Ava, get Chloe a drink, will you?" he commanded, in front of everyone. Humiliation burned, a hot flush creeping up my neck. I fulfilled the order, my hands trembling. When I tried to serve him divorce papers later, he laughed, dismissed them, and ordered me to "Clean this up." The next morning, he locked me in our room, cutting me off from communication, while simultaneously turning my family' s vulnerabilities into weapons-my father' s gambling debts, my brother Sean' s paralysis-chains he used to control me. He even forced me to undergo a medical examination to prove my fidelity, simply to uphold his perfect image. How could he consistently treat me with such crushing disdain? How had I become so utterly trapped, my past self, my ambitions, reduced to less than nothing? I built his empire; now I was merely a servant in my own gilded cage. But when a final, brutal act of cruelty shattered the last vestiges of my family, and his contempt finally stripped me bare, something snapped. The fear and despair transformed into a cold, clear resolve. I would not just leave; I would dismantle every lie he lived, every connection he thought he owned. The game wasn't over. It was just beginning.

Revenge Divorce CEO Kickass Heroine Personal growth

Chapter 10

07-04 14:04

Introduction

Then, he walked in, late as usual, his arm around his latest young "mentee," Chloe Davis. He introduced her to a room full of fawning investors, publicly parading her, barely even looking at me. "Ava, get Chloe a drink, will you?" he commanded, in front of everyone.

Humiliation burned, a hot flush creeping up my neck. I fulfilled the order, my hands trembling. When I tried to serve him divorce papers later, he laughed, dismissed them, and ordered me to "Clean this up."

The next morning, he locked me in our room, cutting me off from communication, while simultaneously turning my family' s vulnerabilities into weapons-my father' s gambling debts, my brother Sean' s paralysis-chains he used to control me.

He even forced me to undergo a medical examination to prove my fidelity, simply to uphold his perfect image.

How could he consistently treat me with such crushing disdain? How had I become so utterly trapped, my past self, my ambitions, reduced to less than nothing? I built his empire; now I was merely a servant in my own gilded cage.

But when a final, brutal act of cruelty shattered the last vestiges of my family, and his contempt finally stripped me bare, something snapped. The fear and despair transformed into a cold, clear resolve. I would not just leave; I would dismantle every lie he lived, every connection he thought he owned. The game wasn't over. It was just beginning.