Escaping The Betrayal's Chill

Escaping The Betrayal's Chill

Alfredo Deangelo

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The biting cold was the first thing I felt, deep in the walk-in freezer where Chloe, my wife of five years, had locked me. My punishment for accidentally breaking an outrageously expensive Patek Philippe, a gift not for me, but for Liam O'Connell, her "soulmate" who was returning to the US today. Hours earlier, her face had turned to ice, her voice dangerously quiet, "You clumsy fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?" Her grip like steel, she' d shoved me inside, snarling, "Two hours. Think about what you did," before the heavy door slammed shut. I had loved her, so much so that I' d sold my firm and inheritance to free her from gambling debts, thinking my selfless love had won her heart. A dream shattered by a hidden journal revealing her rage, resentment, and her true love for Liam, whispering to our son, Leo, "This is your real dad." Now, shivering, I heard a muffled thud, then another, against the door, and Leo' s small voice screaming, "Get out! You made Mom unhappy! Get out of here!" A harder kick, "I don't want you as my dad anymore!" My spirit shattered into a million tiny pieces, the cold from the freezer nothing compared to the chill in my soul. Just as consciousness faded, Chloe unlatched the door, the kitchen light blinding me. She found me collapsed, feverish, but her face was a mask of irritation, annoyed she' d been caught, already on the phone with Liam, gushing, "Leo? Oh, he's wonderful. He calls you 'Dad' all the time now. He can't wait to see you." My son looked down at me, his face twisted in disgust, "You're pathetic." That was the moment. The last flicker of hope died. I stumbled to the guest room, my hands shaking. Ignoring calls, I booked a one-way international flight to anywhere, vowing never to return. Two days later, Chloe was seen on the news, chasing my taxi to the airport, screaming my name in a public meltdown no one, least of all me, could have predicted. I still had no idea how deep her betrayal ran.

Introduction

The biting cold was the first thing I felt, deep in the walk-in freezer where Chloe, my wife of five years, had locked me.

My punishment for accidentally breaking an outrageously expensive Patek Philippe, a gift not for me, but for Liam O'Connell, her "soulmate" who was returning to the US today.

Hours earlier, her face had turned to ice, her voice dangerously quiet, "You clumsy fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Her grip like steel, she' d shoved me inside, snarling, "Two hours. Think about what you did," before the heavy door slammed shut.

I had loved her, so much so that I' d sold my firm and inheritance to free her from gambling debts, thinking my selfless love had won her heart.

A dream shattered by a hidden journal revealing her rage, resentment, and her true love for Liam, whispering to our son, Leo, "This is your real dad."

Now, shivering, I heard a muffled thud, then another, against the door, and Leo' s small voice screaming, "Get out! You made Mom unhappy! Get out of here!"

A harder kick, "I don't want you as my dad anymore!"

My spirit shattered into a million tiny pieces, the cold from the freezer nothing compared to the chill in my soul.

Just as consciousness faded, Chloe unlatched the door, the kitchen light blinding me.

She found me collapsed, feverish, but her face was a mask of irritation, annoyed she' d been caught, already on the phone with Liam, gushing, "Leo? Oh, he's wonderful. He calls you 'Dad' all the time now. He can't wait to see you."

My son looked down at me, his face twisted in disgust, "You're pathetic."

That was the moment.

The last flicker of hope died.

I stumbled to the guest room, my hands shaking.

Ignoring calls, I booked a one-way international flight to anywhere, vowing never to return.

Two days later, Chloe was seen on the news, chasing my taxi to the airport, screaming my name in a public meltdown no one, least of all me, could have predicted.

I still had no idea how deep her betrayal ran.

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The Price of His Betrayal

The Price of His Betrayal

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I once thought my love for Julian Croft was everything, willingly sacrificing my entire identity and unique art to fit his "pious" world. I even became pregnant, convinced his child would finally make me permanent in his life. But his sister, Claire, violently attacked me, kicking my stomach and causing a horrifying miscarriage. Julian, the man I loved, rushed in and only saw Claire, frantically asking if her hand was hurt, completely oblivious to my bleeding body on the floor. When I awoke in the hospital, stripped of my baby and hope, Julian appeared desperate – not for me, but to demand my blood for Claire, who' d been in a car crash. He begged the doctors to save "his Elle," using the same pet name he once whispered to me. In that shattering instant, I realized the ultimate horror: I was never "his Elle"; I was merely a substitute, a stand-in for his twisted, suffocating obsession with his sister. Used and utterly destroyed, forced to save the very woman who had killed my child, I found a cold, clear resolve in the void of my being. I walked out of that hospital, leaving everything behind, vowing to forge a new life far from the wreckage he left. Now, six years later, I'm back in glittering Manhattan, not the broken girl he thought he knew, but Elara, a celebrated artist, a loving wife to Kael, and a proud mother to our son. And Julian Croft is about to learn that the woman he betrayed is no longer picking up discarded rings, but building an empire of her own.

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