Her Shattered Heart, His Cruel Betrayal

Her Shattered Heart, His Cruel Betrayal

Shelby Helliwell

3.5
Comment(s)
39.8K
View
28
Chapters

My husband's pregnant mistress disappeared, and he accused me of kidnapping her. To force a confession, he dragged a writhing burlap sack into the living room, threatening to beat the "stray dog" inside if I didn't tell him where she was. I screamed that our son, Jalen, was inside. He just laughed, calling me a liar as he raised an iron poker. I watched, helpless, as he brought it down again and again, ignoring my pleas. Through the blood-soaked fabric, I heard our son's last, faint whisper: "Daddy..." As if that wasn't enough, he then had his men drag me to a back room to punish me for his mistress's supposed miscarriage. They left me broken on the floor, my son dead and my soul shattered. With nothing left to live for, I threw myself into the ocean. But I was saved. And when I opened my eyes, I made a vow. I would return, and I would drag them both down to the hell they built for me.

Chapter 1

My husband's pregnant mistress disappeared, and he accused me of kidnapping her.

To force a confession, he dragged a writhing burlap sack into the living room, threatening to beat the "stray dog" inside if I didn't tell him where she was.

I screamed that our son, Jalen, was inside. He just laughed, calling me a liar as he raised an iron poker.

I watched, helpless, as he brought it down again and again, ignoring my pleas.

Through the blood-soaked fabric, I heard our son's last, faint whisper: "Daddy..."

As if that wasn't enough, he then had his men drag me to a back room to punish me for his mistress's supposed miscarriage.

They left me broken on the floor, my son dead and my soul shattered. With nothing left to live for, I threw myself into the ocean.

But I was saved. And when I opened my eyes, I made a vow. I would return, and I would drag them both down to the hell they built for me.

Chapter 1

The sounds from the master bedroom reached Karyme Glenn the moment she stepped through the front door.

A woman's soft moans. A man's heavy breathing.

They were tangled together, a familiar, ugly rhythm that made the air thick and hard to breathe.

Karyme' s feet froze on the polished marble floor. A sharp, cold pain shot through her chest, so intense it felt like her ribs were cracking.

This man, her husband, Archie Hatfield, had once loved her more than anything.

He was the brilliant CEO of a rising tech empire, yet he had once given up a multi-billion dollar deal just to fly across the country and bring her a bowl of soup when she had a cold.

He had built this house for her, every detail matching her dreams. He told everyone she was his sun, his moon, his entire world.

But that was before.

Now, there was this. The affair. The betrayal.

Karyme had caught him before. She had walked in on him with another woman, their bodies pressed together in his office.

Each time, Archie had an excuse.

"She drugged me, Karyme. I swear."

"My father forced me. He threatened to disown me."

Each time, he would drop to his knees, his face wet with tears, swearing it would never happen again. He would hold her, whispering promises that felt like poison.

And each time he was with the other woman, the sounds were just like this, fierce and tireless, as if he were trying to pour every ounce of his energy into her.

This was the third time.

Third. The number echoed in Karyme's mind, a final, hollow toll.

She would not fight anymore. She would not forgive anymore. There was nothing left to save.

Her body trembled. She turned silently, forcing her legs to move, and walked back to her own room at the end of the hall.

She closed the door behind her, the soft click of the latch sealing her in with her broken heart.

The tears she had held back finally fell, hot and silent, streaming down her face.

Today was their wedding anniversary.

He had promised her a surprise, a romantic dinner, a night to remember how it all began.

But then the call came.

Faustina Edwards, the surrogate, needed him.

Archie' s family had a dark history. His grandmother and aunt had both died in childbirth. The fear was a poison that had seeped into his bones. He was terrified of losing Karyme the same way.

"We won't have children, Karyme," he had promised when he proposed, his eyes full of earnest love. "I can't risk you. I just need you."

For years, he was careful. He made sure there were no accidents, no chances of a pregnancy that he believed would be a death sentence for her.

But then his father, the patriarch of the Hatfield dynasty, grew ill. His dying wish was for an heir, a grandson to carry on the family name and legacy.

So Archie, torn between his love for Karyme and his duty to his father, found a solution.

A surrogate.

He chose Faustina Edwards, a young woman who seemed innocent, fragile, and desperate for the money.

It was supposed to be a simple transaction. Impersonal. Clinical.

But it became this. A series of three betrayals, each one more brutal than the last.

The first time, his father had arranged it. Faustina was drugged and brought to Archie's room.

Karyme was locked in the room right next door.

She was forced to listen.

She heard Faustina's cries, Archie's grunts, the sickening sound of the headboard banging against the wall, over and over.

She beat her fists against the locked door until her knuckles were raw and bloody. She screamed his name until her throat was hoarse.

She pressed pillows over her ears, but the sounds seeped through, violating her, tearing her apart.

The noises from next door were relentless, a storm of passion and violence that seemed to go on for an eternity.

When Faustina finally left the next morning, she was trembling, barely able to walk.

Archie, sober and horrified, found Karyme crumpled on the floor. He knelt before her, begging for forgiveness, swearing it was a setup, that he loved only her.

And Karyme, because she loved him, chose to believe him.

Continue Reading

Other books by Shelby Helliwell

More
A Jilted Lover's Triumphant Return

A Jilted Lover's Triumphant Return

Romance

5.0

The new house smelled of fresh paint, a fresh start for Ava Miller, a successful tech entrepreneur, her loving husband Liam, and their two-year-old son, Leo. Her peaceful suburban dream shattered when a car pulled up, and out stepped her aunt and cousin-faces she hadn't seen since she left her old life behind. "Ava! We heard you moved into the neighborhood! What a surprise!" her aunt chirped, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. Her cousin' s sly glance past Ava signaled trouble: "We ran into Ethan Hayes's mother... She was saying how much Ethan still misses you." The name hung in the air, a poisonous cloud. Ethan Hayes, her college sweetheart, the man who publicly humiliated her by announcing his engagement to another woman at their supposed engagement party. They twisted the knife, claiming Ethan still pined for her, ignoring her cold silence, daring to suggest reconciliation. Then came the final insult, "His mother said he' s not happy with Chloe. He' s still waiting for you, Ava." A strange calm settled over Ava. The heartbroken girl they knew was dead. "I appreciate your concern," Ava said, a polite, chilling smile on her face. "But I think there's been a misunderstanding." She pulled Liam forward, her husband of two years, and gestured to Leo, playing happily in the yard. "This is my husband, Liam. And that's our son, Leo." Their smiles shattered, replaced by stunned silence. The image they held of her-the pining, discarded lover-crumbled before the woman she had become. After all this time, after all she had endured, did they truly believe she was still the same person, waiting for the man who broke her? Her past, once a painful scar, became her shield. The calm in her voice held a dangerous promise: Her life with Liam was not a misunderstanding, but a meticulously built fortress against the ghosts she had outrun.

Three Years, A Shattered Reality With The Heir

Three Years, A Shattered Reality With The Heir

Romance

5.0

Three years. Three years of marriage to Olivia Reed, the woman who redefined my world. On our anniversary, I went to sign the final papers for our joint asset trust, a mere formality. But the city clerk told me words that shattered my reality: "According to our records, you are not legally married to Olivia Reed." My laughter died in my throat when she added, "There is a record of a marriage for Ms. Olivia Reed... to Alex Thorne. It was filed two years ago." Alex Thorne. My protégé. The talented young architect I'd mentored, the man I trusted after our ceremony. The wedding certificate, the grand gestures, the vows-all lies. Every single one. I pieced it together: Olivia's sad eyes, her whispers of a "replacement" while I was overseas, her tears and apologies for being "paranoid" about Alex when I returned. Now, I heard her cooing to him on the phone, "To him, I'm his devoted wife. To the world, you' re my husband. It' s a perfect arrangement. I have his love and your legal status. I have everything." Everything. And I had nothing. I was a sham. A joke. The love I felt, a towering structure, crumbled to dust. There was no rage. Just a cold, empty void. Then, the sculpture crashed. Olivia chose him, shielding him, letting the heavy steel frame slam into me, crushing bones. Lying broken in the hospital, I watched her dote on him while ignoring me. I realized she had intended to erase me. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't an accident. This was a brutal choice, a calculated punishment. Ethan Miller, the trusting fool, was dead. I decided then. I wasn' t confronting her. I was disappearing. And then, when she least expected it, I would take it all away.

His Cruelest Game

His Cruelest Game

Romance

5.0

For three torturous years, I lived as a ghost in my own life. Haunted by the car crash I believed killed my sister, Savannah, and crippled her boyfriend, Ethan, I dedicated myself to his care. He was my tormentor, using my guilt as his chain. Then, one stormy night, I walked into a honky-tonk bar and heard the laughter. It was Ethan, boasting to his friends: "Three whole years she's bought it. Wiping my ass, feeding me like a baby, all because she thinks she crippled me." My world didn't just crack; it shattered when I saw him stand and dance. His paralysis was a lie. My three years of devotion, his meticulous act of revenge. He didn't stop there. He moved me to a dusty tack room, forced me to watch him replace my sister, and then, in a sadistic climax, lured me to a hunting cabin. There, he and his friends humiliated me, filming my terror. Broken, I faked my own death, escaping to Oregon, shedding my identity to become Anna. I found love and a future, finally breathing again. But fate has a cruel sense of irony. Ethan, now truly paralyzed by psychosomatic trauma triggered by my "death," was sent to a clinic in my new city. Our eyes met across a busy street, and his desperate cry, "Sarah!" tore through my new life. He tried to control me again, but I was no longer the girl he broke. Standing tall with the man I loved, I unleashed three years of silenced truth. "You killed Savannah," I declared, exposing his role in her desperation. "And the hunting cabin? You filmed that for amusement!" He stared, utterly defeated, as the truth of his monstrous acts finally consumed him. This time, I didn't run. I stood defiant, free, ready to marry the man who showed me what true love was. My past was behind me, and my own future, filled with quiet happiness, had just begun.

You'll also like

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.9

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book