Chloe's Web, Liam's Freedom

Chloe's Web, Liam's Freedom

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
117
View
11
Chapters

Today was supposed to be my fourth wedding to Chloe, my fiancée since we were sixteen. I stood at the altar, surrounded by friends and family, the grand church filled with white roses. But instead of Chloe, her maid of honor rushed down the aisle, clutching her phone, her face etched with panic. Then, my phone vibrated. A text from Chloe: "I' m so sorry, Liam. I can' t. Mark needs me. He' s at the hospital. He said he was in a car accident." Not again. Another one of Mark' s car accident lies, the same one he used months ago. Hundreds of eyes fixed on me, a mix of pity and morbid curiosity. This wasn't postponement; it was a public execution. Tears of profound humiliation stung my eyes. My decade of devotion meant nothing; she chose her manipulative assistant over me, again. Then, a new notification. A social media post from Mark. A selfie. Mark, smug and triumphant. And Chloe, asleep on his shoulder, in a hotel room, not a hospital. "Some things are worth fighting for. So happy you' re finally mine," the caption read. Rage, hot and white-hot, surged through me. This was a calculated, public humiliation. They weren't hiding; they were celebrating. Then, a message request from Mark. A picture. Chloe, asleep in the hotel bed. My wedding dress, draped over a chair in the background, a ghostly white sentinel. He had planned this. He was taunting me. Mark answered my call, his voice smooth and arrogant. "We're at the Grand Star Hotel, room 1208. You know, the one right next to the general hospital. It' s so much more comfortable for Chloe to rest here while I recover from my, ah, 'terrible accident' ." He laughed, a smug, ugly sound. He sent another picture: Chloe' s hand, intertwined with his. My great-grandmother' s engagement ring gone, replaced by a simple gold band. "It feels like nothing," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "You can have her." I hung up. I left it all behind, the house, the memories, the woman. I was free, but I had to fight to stay that way.

Introduction

Today was supposed to be my fourth wedding to Chloe, my fiancée since we were sixteen.

I stood at the altar, surrounded by friends and family, the grand church filled with white roses.

But instead of Chloe, her maid of honor rushed down the aisle, clutching her phone, her face etched with panic.

Then, my phone vibrated.

A text from Chloe: "I' m so sorry, Liam. I can' t. Mark needs me. He' s at the hospital. He said he was in a car accident."

Not again. Another one of Mark' s car accident lies, the same one he used months ago.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on me, a mix of pity and morbid curiosity.

This wasn't postponement; it was a public execution.

Tears of profound humiliation stung my eyes.

My decade of devotion meant nothing; she chose her manipulative assistant over me, again.

Then, a new notification. A social media post from Mark.

A selfie. Mark, smug and triumphant. And Chloe, asleep on his shoulder, in a hotel room, not a hospital.

"Some things are worth fighting for. So happy you' re finally mine," the caption read.

Rage, hot and white-hot, surged through me.

This was a calculated, public humiliation. They weren't hiding; they were celebrating.

Then, a message request from Mark. A picture.

Chloe, asleep in the hotel bed. My wedding dress, draped over a chair in the background, a ghostly white sentinel.

He had planned this. He was taunting me.

Mark answered my call, his voice smooth and arrogant.

"We're at the Grand Star Hotel, room 1208. You know, the one right next to the general hospital. It' s so much more comfortable for Chloe to rest here while I recover from my, ah, 'terrible accident' ."

He laughed, a smug, ugly sound.

He sent another picture: Chloe' s hand, intertwined with his. My great-grandmother' s engagement ring gone, replaced by a simple gold band.

"It feels like nothing," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "You can have her."

I hung up. I left it all behind, the house, the memories, the woman.

I was free, but I had to fight to stay that way.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
His Secret Son, Her Stolen Fortune

His Secret Son, Her Stolen Fortune

Short stories

4.3

I found the document by accident. Aiden was away, and I was looking for my mother' s old earrings in the safe when my fingers brushed against a thick, unfamiliar file folder. It wasn't mine. It was the "Herrera Family Trust," and the primary beneficiary of Aiden' s massive fortune wasn't me, his wife of seven years. It was a five-year-old boy named Leo Herrera, and his legal guardian, listed as the secondary beneficiary, was Haven Herrera-my adopted sister-in-law. My family lawyer confirmed it an hour later. It was real. Ironclad. Established five years ago. The phone slipped from my hand. A cold numbness spread through me. Seven years. I had spent seven years justifying Aiden's madness, his rages, his possessiveness, believing it was a twisted part of his love. I stumbled through the cold, silent mansion to the east wing, drawn by the sound of laughter. Through the glass doors, I saw them: Aiden, bouncing Leo on his knee, Haven beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. And with them, smiling and cooing at the child, were Aiden's parents. My in-laws. They were a perfect family. "Aiden, the final transfer of the Knox assets into Leo' s trust is complete," his father said, raising a glass of champagne. "It's all airtight now." "Good," Aiden replied, his voice calm. "Charlotte's family money should have always belonged to a true Herrera heir." My inheritance. My family's legacy. Transferred to his secret son. My own money, used to secure the future of his betrayal. They had all known. They had all conspired. His rage, his paranoia, his sickness-it wasn't for everyone. It was a special hell he had reserved just for me. I backed away from the door, my body cold as ice. I ran back to our bedroom, the one we had shared for seven years, and locked the door. I looked at my reflection, at the ghost of the woman I used to be. A quiet vow formed on my lips, silent but absolute. "Aiden Herrera," I whispered to the empty room. "I will never see you again."

You'll also like

Rebirth And Revenge: The Real Heiress Is Back!

Rebirth And Revenge: The Real Heiress Is Back!

R. Ink writer
4.7

Elisa watched as the most important people in her life showered the evil imposter-The fake heiress, with love. Elisa, the lost daughter of one of the most wealthiest family was found 18 years later and was brought back to her rightful home. However, someone had already taken her place. A fake heiress, the pampered little princess. Her coy acting and innocent façade made Elisa's real mother love her more than Elisa, her real daughter. That made Elisa, though, the true daughter end up as an adopted child. "Elisa, could you try not to appear in front of her too much as it could trigger her insecurities." Her parents had told her because of the fake heiress. "Elisa, You've taken everything away from her. Why can't you give her a little more?" Her fiancé had ordered her. Because of an unfortunate accident plotted by Isabelle-The fake heiress, Elisa was sent to prison and her family cut ties with her without a second thought. Four years, after much torture which led to her being crippled and blind on one eye, she was released, but got hit by a truck. While laying on the pool of her blood, she wanted to question, Why? Why had they all treated her so cruelly, while they love Isabelle unconditionally? She badly wanted to rip off Isabelle's mask of innocence, to reveal the fake, manipulative woman beneath. She was full of hatred. But after her death, she woke up back to when she was 18 years like all that happened were all nightmare. She was elated. She was reborn to re-live all that had happened in her last life, but now, her mission was to reveal mask beneath that woman and make everyone that made her suffer in her past life pay. It was her time for revenge! And definitely, she won't mess this up!

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book