The Judge, The Fiancée, The Frame-up

The Judge, The Fiancée, The Frame-up

Gavin

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The judge' s voice was a flat, impersonal drone. "Guilty." My fiancée, Olivia, a vision in her tailored business suit, didn' t even flinch. Her eyes, once so full of love, slid away from mine, landing on my half-brother, Liam. He covered her hand with his, a small, intimate gesture that screamed a truth louder than the verdict. They were abandoning me. My parents were gone, killed in the very accident I was now convicted of causing. Seven years I spent in hell, every appeal denied, every lead a dead end. Sarah, my childhood friend and court-appointed lawyer-and my wife on paper-was my only lifeline. She kept promising to fight, telling me everything was a lie. Then, a miracle. My conviction overturned. I was finally free. But freedom quickly turned to another nightmare. Sarah, my champion, tearfully confessed her family' s firm was bleeding money from an embezzlement scheme. She needed a fall guy, and I, a freshly released ex-con, was the perfect one. "I' ll do it," I said, believing I was repaying a debt, an honorable sacrifice for the woman who saved me. Another seven years stolen. When I was finally released, 42 years old, I went to Sarah' s mother' s house, this time to surprise her. But the surprise was on me, in the form of a conversation overheard. "Liam needs this to be over." "He thought I was marrying him to save him," Sarah' s voice, cold and sharp, cut through me. "The only reason I married him was to become the victim' s family representative. The only way to legally sign a waiver that would prevent prosecutors from ever going after the real killer." Liam. He was the killer. And Sarah, my trusted friend, my wife, had been the architect of my destruction from the very beginning. Fourteen years. Two prison sentences. All a lie to protect the man who murdered my parents.

Introduction

The judge' s voice was a flat, impersonal drone.

"Guilty."

My fiancée, Olivia, a vision in her tailored business suit, didn' t even flinch.

Her eyes, once so full of love, slid away from mine, landing on my half-brother, Liam.

He covered her hand with his, a small, intimate gesture that screamed a truth louder than the verdict.

They were abandoning me. My parents were gone, killed in the very accident I was now convicted of causing.

Seven years I spent in hell, every appeal denied, every lead a dead end.

Sarah, my childhood friend and court-appointed lawyer-and my wife on paper-was my only lifeline.

She kept promising to fight, telling me everything was a lie.

Then, a miracle. My conviction overturned. I was finally free.

But freedom quickly turned to another nightmare.

Sarah, my champion, tearfully confessed her family' s firm was bleeding money from an embezzlement scheme.

She needed a fall guy, and I, a freshly released ex-con, was the perfect one.

"I' ll do it," I said, believing I was repaying a debt, an honorable sacrifice for the woman who saved me.

Another seven years stolen.

When I was finally released, 42 years old, I went to Sarah' s mother' s house, this time to surprise her.

But the surprise was on me, in the form of a conversation overheard.

"Liam needs this to be over."

"He thought I was marrying him to save him," Sarah' s voice, cold and sharp, cut through me.

"The only reason I married him was to become the victim' s family representative. The only way to legally sign a waiver that would prevent prosecutors from ever going after the real killer."

Liam. He was the killer.

And Sarah, my trusted friend, my wife, had been the architect of my destruction from the very beginning.

Fourteen years. Two prison sentences. All a lie to protect the man who murdered my parents.

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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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