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When The Victim Becomes The Predator

When The Victim Becomes The Predator

Gavin

5.0
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My cousin Liam has a hobby. It' s ruining my life. Every time I found a girl I genuinely liked, he' d swoop in, charm her, and orchestrate a public, humiliating breakup. For years, I played the victim, internalizing the laughter and pity, dismissed by my mother as merely "jealous." But this time, with Chloe Jenkins, I wasn't just waiting for the storm. I built it. I watched as Liam Davis, parasite extraordinaire, took the bait. He flaunted Chloe on social media, convinced she was another notch on his belt, funded by his ex-wife Sarah' s endless alimony checks. Then, Sarah revealed Liam was living on borrowed time, off credit cards in her name. It was all a carefully laid trap, and he walked right into it, dragging Chloe and himself into a spiral of fraud and deception. He showed up at my door, a ghost of the man who terrorized my youth, wild-eyed and desperate. "You set this all up," he snarled as two menacing figures dragged me into a black SUV. He threw the first punch, my head snapping against the window. This wasn' t just about humiliation anymore; it was about survival. But Liam forgot one crucial detail: I wasn' t the only player in this game. And as his broken body plunged into the dark water, pulled down by the very current he created, I finally understood. Freedom wasn't a gift. It was a weapon, forged in years of pain, and wielded with precision.

Introduction

My cousin Liam has a hobby. It' s ruining my life.

Every time I found a girl I genuinely liked, he' d swoop in, charm her, and orchestrate a public, humiliating breakup.

For years, I played the victim, internalizing the laughter and pity, dismissed by my mother as merely "jealous."

But this time, with Chloe Jenkins,

I wasn't just waiting for the storm.

I built it.

I watched as Liam Davis, parasite extraordinaire, took the bait.

He flaunted Chloe on social media, convinced she was another notch on his belt, funded by his ex-wife Sarah' s endless alimony checks.

Then, Sarah revealed Liam was living on borrowed time, off credit cards in her name.

It was all a carefully laid trap, and he walked right into it, dragging Chloe and himself into a spiral of fraud and deception.

He showed up at my door, a ghost of the man who terrorized my youth, wild-eyed and desperate.

"You set this all up," he snarled as two menacing figures dragged me into a black SUV.

He threw the first punch, my head snapping against the window.

This wasn' t just about humiliation anymore; it was about survival.

But Liam forgot one crucial detail: I wasn' t the only player in this game.

And as his broken body plunged into the dark water, pulled down by the very current he created, I finally understood.

Freedom wasn't a gift.

It was a weapon, forged in years of pain, and wielded with precision.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

Short stories

4.7

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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