Goodbye To A Toxic Love

Goodbye To A Toxic Love

Gavin

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My seven-year marriage to Olivia Hayes, a powerful CEO, seemed perfect from the outside. But then, a single photo on social media shattered everything: my wife, laughing intimately with her much younger personal assistant, Liam Thorne, proudly wearing the platinum cufflink I designed for our fifth anniversary. When I confronted her, Olivia felt no shame, dismissively claiming it was "just a cufflink" and proposing an "open arrangement" where I could find someone else. The humiliation deepened when I went to Hayes Enterprises, the company I helped build, only to be ambushed by Liam. He taunted me, flaunting his new status and claiming my office, before having me assaulted by security while Olivia watched, choosing to protect her lover' s image over mine. My world crumbled as the video of the assault went viral, and Olivia, facing public backlash, demanded I sign over my company shares to Liam as an "apology" for my "unhinged behavior." The sheer audacity and betrayal left me hollow, but I refused to be manipulated. I tore up the share transfer agreement, signed the divorce papers, and walked away from everything, planning to start anew in New York. But Olivia, ever the master manipulator, convinced me to stay for a "truce," only to publicize her affair with Liam at a family gala, where he cruelly tricked me into stepping into hot coffee. The final straw came when Olivia fussed over Liam's fake injury, then dismissed my actual second-degree burn with a casual "Go home and put some toothpaste on it." I drove straight to LAX, bought a one-way ticket to New York, and left everything behind-my marriage, my company, and the toxic remnants of a life that was never truly mine. Little did I know, this agonizing end was just the beginning of reclaiming my true self and finding a love I never thought possible.

Introduction

My seven-year marriage to Olivia Hayes, a powerful CEO, seemed perfect from the outside.

But then, a single photo on social media shattered everything: my wife, laughing intimately with her much younger personal assistant, Liam Thorne, proudly wearing the platinum cufflink I designed for our fifth anniversary.

When I confronted her, Olivia felt no shame, dismissively claiming it was "just a cufflink" and proposing an "open arrangement" where I could find someone else.

The humiliation deepened when I went to Hayes Enterprises, the company I helped build, only to be ambushed by Liam. He taunted me, flaunting his new status and claiming my office, before having me assaulted by security while Olivia watched, choosing to protect her lover' s image over mine.

My world crumbled as the video of the assault went viral, and Olivia, facing public backlash, demanded I sign over my company shares to Liam as an "apology" for my "unhinged behavior."

The sheer audacity and betrayal left me hollow, but I refused to be manipulated.

I tore up the share transfer agreement, signed the divorce papers, and walked away from everything, planning to start anew in New York.

But Olivia, ever the master manipulator, convinced me to stay for a "truce," only to publicize her affair with Liam at a family gala, where he cruelly tricked me into stepping into hot coffee.

The final straw came when Olivia fussed over Liam's fake injury, then dismissed my actual second-degree burn with a casual "Go home and put some toothpaste on it."

I drove straight to LAX, bought a one-way ticket to New York, and left everything behind-my marriage, my company, and the toxic remnants of a life that was never truly mine.

Little did I know, this agonizing end was just the beginning of reclaiming my true self and finding a love I never thought possible.

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I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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