Beyond The Fairy Tale: A Monster

Beyond The Fairy Tale: A Monster

Felix Turner

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They called me the luckiest woman in New York, the girl from nowhere who had somehow captured the Sterling heir, Liam. He fought his powerful family for me, gave up his inheritance, and it was a fairy tale. Then, his brother died, and Liam became the sole heir, forced into an arranged marriage with his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett. The city expected him to drop me, but he dramatically announced our engagement still stood. Everyone saw a grand love story. I knew the truth. While the world saw a hero, I saw a monster. He crept into Scarlett' s bed nightly, leaving me a prisoner in his house, bound by his family' s cruel rules. When I discovered I was pregnant, his mother, Mrs. Sterling, dragged me to a clinic, forcing an abortion for their "pure Sterling line." But the true horror came weeks later: an anonymous medical file revealed Liam hadn' t just allowed the abortion; he' d secretly ordered the doctor to remove my uterus, ensuring I could never bear another child, never have a claim to the Sterling fortune through an heir. He had carved out my womanhood. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, sharp rage. He thought I was broken, a fragile pet, but he was wrong. I would make him believe I died for him, a tragic victim of a love he destroyed. I would fake my death, escape this gilded cage, and one day, I would have my revenge. My freedom began with playing the docile, heartbroken lover, letting him believe he was in control, utterly unaware he was dancing to my tune.

Introduction

They called me the luckiest woman in New York, the girl from nowhere who had somehow captured the Sterling heir, Liam. He fought his powerful family for me, gave up his inheritance, and it was a fairy tale.

Then, his brother died, and Liam became the sole heir, forced into an arranged marriage with his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett. The city expected him to drop me, but he dramatically announced our engagement still stood. Everyone saw a grand love story.

I knew the truth. While the world saw a hero, I saw a monster. He crept into Scarlett' s bed nightly, leaving me a prisoner in his house, bound by his family' s cruel rules. When I discovered I was pregnant, his mother, Mrs. Sterling, dragged me to a clinic, forcing an abortion for their "pure Sterling line."

But the true horror came weeks later: an anonymous medical file revealed Liam hadn' t just allowed the abortion; he' d secretly ordered the doctor to remove my uterus, ensuring I could never bear another child, never have a claim to the Sterling fortune through an heir.

He had carved out my womanhood. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, sharp rage. He thought I was broken, a fragile pet, but he was wrong.

I would make him believe I died for him, a tragic victim of a love he destroyed. I would fake my death, escape this gilded cage, and one day, I would have my revenge. My freedom began with playing the docile, heartbroken lover, letting him believe he was in control, utterly unaware he was dancing to my tune.

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My Stepbrother's Cruel Game

My Stepbrother's Cruel Game

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Winning a prestigious photography scholarship to New York City felt like my ticket to a new life, a future beyond the gilded cage of the Davenport mansion and my secret, forbidden love for my stepbrother, Ethan. Our intimate, years-long affair had been my most cherished secret, a tender rebellion. But then I overheard him, laughing. Our "romance" was nothing but a calculated game, a twisted revenge plot against my mother, designed to shatter her by utterly destroying my heart. My world crumbled, replaced by a chilling realization. The man I truly loved continued his sickening charade, playing the doting lover, even as his 'intended wife,' Chloe, openly taunted me, flaunting her knowledge of his cruel charade. Then came the ultimate, public humiliation: Chloe deliberately destroyed my deceased father's ashes, and Ethan, the supposed love of my life, coldly sided with her, accusing me instead. My heart didn't break; it simply emptied, leaving behind a cold, hard resolve where love once resided. How could I have been so blind, so used, so utterly betrayed by the one person I had dared to love, reduced to a disposable pawn in his hateful vendetta? Determined to sever every poisonous tie and leave no lingering debt, I meticulously amassed every penny to repay my stepfather. I systematically erased every trace of our shared past, and orchestrated a final, dramatic exit, leaving Ethan a devastating breakup note and the full repayment on his desk. As I finally boarded my flight for New York, I knew I was flying towards a new life, leaving behind the ashes of a love I was finally free from.

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I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

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