Her Crown, His Broken Heart

Her Crown, His Broken Heart

Gavin

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The pre-IPO party buzzed with champagne and a decade of my unwavering devotion to Sarah Jenkins and Nexus AI. Tomorrow, everything would change. I saw Sarah across the room, radiant, untouchable, the woman who had promised, "Once the company goes public, Alex, we'll get married." Then I heard her voice, casual, dismissive: "Alex? He's been with me for ten years. I'll definitely take care of him." My world shattered when her tone softened, almost reverent, as she whispered another name: "Ethan Thorne... I want to marry him." Ethan Thorne. Not me. Not the man who' d poured his soul into her dreams, selling his own passion projects to fund her first seed money, holding her while she cried, believing it was "us against the world." The pain was a physical weight. She called me "tarnished," "not pure," because I'd fought by her side in the trenches. I was a "tool to be discarded" now that she was at the top. In a desperate, broken rage, I smashed her laptop, the screen reflecting her chilling calm, her utter disinterest in my anguish. "You're scaring Ethan," she said, her voice sharp, as if my agony was an inconvenience. Then, a grainy video arrived on my phone: Sarah, tied to a chair, a distorted voice threatening, "Your girl for your loyalty, Alex Miller. Come to the old shipyard. Alone." Despite the betrayal, the pain, the disgust she' d shown, my instincts screamed. I had to go. One last time, I would save her.

Introduction

The pre-IPO party buzzed with champagne and a decade of my unwavering devotion to Sarah Jenkins and Nexus AI. Tomorrow, everything would change.

I saw Sarah across the room, radiant, untouchable, the woman who had promised, "Once the company goes public, Alex, we'll get married."

Then I heard her voice, casual, dismissive: "Alex? He's been with me for ten years. I'll definitely take care of him."

My world shattered when her tone softened, almost reverent, as she whispered another name: "Ethan Thorne... I want to marry him."

Ethan Thorne. Not me. Not the man who' d poured his soul into her dreams, selling his own passion projects to fund her first seed money, holding her while she cried, believing it was "us against the world."

The pain was a physical weight. She called me "tarnished," "not pure," because I'd fought by her side in the trenches. I was a "tool to be discarded" now that she was at the top.

In a desperate, broken rage, I smashed her laptop, the screen reflecting her chilling calm, her utter disinterest in my anguish.

"You're scaring Ethan," she said, her voice sharp, as if my agony was an inconvenience.

Then, a grainy video arrived on my phone: Sarah, tied to a chair, a distorted voice threatening, "Your girl for your loyalty, Alex Miller. Come to the old shipyard. Alone."

Despite the betrayal, the pain, the disgust she' d shown, my instincts screamed. I had to go. One last time, I would save her.

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The judge' s voice was a low drone, stamping out the last echoes of a life I barely recognized. "Divorce granted." My husband, Daniel, wasn' t there, called away by "duty"-a last-minute training, his lawyer smoothly explained. It was always duty, always Olivia, his "fragile" niece, who overshadowed everything. My last day at the fire station, a small comfort, was shattered when Daniel appeared, asking me to drop the papers. He even tried a surprise birthday gift, only to abandon me when Olivia had another "panic attack." I filed for divorce, expediting my transfer to a small town. But before I could leave, Daniel burst in with Olivia, whose innocent eyes hid a smirk. They' d invaded my last sanctuary. Then, I overheard Olivia, the so-called fragile niece, passionately kissing Daniel while begging him to choose her and "let me go." My world crumbled. This wasn't a family; it was a sick, twisted drama. I was the villain, destroying their codependent world. And then Olivia, in a dramatic display, ran headfirst into a wall, collapsing in a pool of blood. Daniel scooped her up, his eyes accusing me. My fault. Always my fault. I didn' t understand. How could I be blamed for her manipulative antics? How could he be so blind? This wasn't just about an affair; it was a decade of emotional suffocation. I was drowning, and he was too focused on her tears to notice. I picked up the divorce papers, the ones he hadn't received because Olivia had intercepted them. The true nature of their warped bond finally became horrifyingly clear. I drove away, toward a new city, a new life, finally ready to let go of the man who had loved duty more than me-or so I thought.

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