The Fiancée's Grand Design

The Fiancée's Grand Design

Gavin

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It was my wedding day, a dream come true with the man who had pursued me for seven years, the heir to a vast fortune. Our private jet was whisking us to a Caribbean island, my gown a cascade of silk, a secret flutter in my belly signaling new life. Then, masked hijackers stormed the cabin, and in a heart-stopping moment, my fiancé, Mark, shoved me directly into a hijacker' s brutal grasp to protect his childhood friend, Chloe. The force of his betrayal shattered everything, leaving me exposed and humiliated as my exquisite wedding gown was torn. As I bled, losing our child, I overheard Mark' s chilling conversation: the hijacking was a setup, designed to get rid of me. He wanted no trace of our life. After being discarded like trash, I awoke in a hospital, only to hear him bribe a doctor to perform a D&C to erase any proof of the pregnancy, claiming it was for my health. He played the grieving fiancé, but when I confronted him about pushing me, he concocted a flawless lie. He then summoned burly nurses to hold me down for the procedure against my will, his eyes cold chips of ice. His parents brazenly supported his actions, proud he chose social standing over me. Days later, Chloe, his true love, visited my hospital room to gloat, revealing Mark' s plan to leave me after the wedding and sending me a vile picture of them together in my bed. The ultimate humiliation came when he slapped me and threw me out of the penthouse, accusing me of attacking Chloe, a scene she masterfully orchestrated and secretly recorded to mock me further. Left distraught and homeless on a cold New York street, with his betrayal etched deep into my soul, I was consumed by a bitter, cold fury. How could he have been so cruel, so calculated? How could I have been so blind? But what they thought was my end was just my beginning. I received a hidden security camera footage of the jet incident and a clear understanding of their despicable lies. I would survive this. I would make him pay. They unleashed a monster, and I would dismantle his empire, leaving nothing but ruin in my wake.

Introduction

It was my wedding day, a dream come true with the man who had pursued me for seven years, the heir to a vast fortune. Our private jet was whisking us to a Caribbean island, my gown a cascade of silk, a secret flutter in my belly signaling new life.

Then, masked hijackers stormed the cabin, and in a heart-stopping moment, my fiancé, Mark, shoved me directly into a hijacker' s brutal grasp to protect his childhood friend, Chloe. The force of his betrayal shattered everything, leaving me exposed and humiliated as my exquisite wedding gown was torn.

As I bled, losing our child, I overheard Mark' s chilling conversation: the hijacking was a setup, designed to get rid of me. He wanted no trace of our life. After being discarded like trash, I awoke in a hospital, only to hear him bribe a doctor to perform a D&C to erase any proof of the pregnancy, claiming it was for my health.

He played the grieving fiancé, but when I confronted him about pushing me, he concocted a flawless lie. He then summoned burly nurses to hold me down for the procedure against my will, his eyes cold chips of ice. His parents brazenly supported his actions, proud he chose social standing over me.

Days later, Chloe, his true love, visited my hospital room to gloat, revealing Mark' s plan to leave me after the wedding and sending me a vile picture of them together in my bed. The ultimate humiliation came when he slapped me and threw me out of the penthouse, accusing me of attacking Chloe, a scene she masterfully orchestrated and secretly recorded to mock me further.

Left distraught and homeless on a cold New York street, with his betrayal etched deep into my soul, I was consumed by a bitter, cold fury. How could he have been so cruel, so calculated? How could I have been so blind?

But what they thought was my end was just my beginning. I received a hidden security camera footage of the jet incident and a clear understanding of their despicable lies. I would survive this. I would make him pay. They unleashed a monster, and I would dismantle his empire, leaving nothing but ruin in my wake.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

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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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I lay in the sterile silence of the hospital, mourning the baby I never got to hold. Everyone called it a tragic accident. A slip and fall. But I knew the truth of my husband's shove. Mark finally came to visit. He didn't bring flowers; he brought a briefcase. Inside were divorce papers and a non-disclosure agreement. He calmly informed me that his mistress-my friend-was pregnant. They were his "real family" now, and they couldn't have any "unpleasantness." He threatened to use fabricated psychiatric reports to paint me as an unstable danger to myself. "Sign the papers, Clara," he warned, his voice void of emotion. "Or you'll be moved from this comfortable room to a more... secure facility. A long-term one." I looked at the man I had loved and saw a monster. This wasn't a tragedy; it was a corporate takeover of my life. He had been meeting with lawyers while I was losing our child. I wasn't his grieving wife; I was a liability being managed, a loose end to be tied. I was utterly and completely trapped. Just as despair consumed me, my parents' old lawyer appeared like a ghost from the past. She pressed a heavy, ornate key into my palm. "Your parents left you an escape route," she whispered, her eyes filled with resolve. "For a day like this." The key led to a forgotten contract, a pact made by our grandfathers decades ago. An ironclad marriage agreement, binding me to the one man my husband feared more than death itself: the ruthless, reclusive billionaire Julian Thorne.

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