He Drove Me Away, Now He's Hunting Me Down

He Drove Me Away, Now He's Hunting Me Down

Rabbit

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My husband, Liam Goldstein, was publicly the perfect man. He donated a kidney to save my life and named the new tower of his corporate headquarters after me. The world saw us as the ultimate power couple, a love story for the ages. But in private, he was cheating on me with an influencer. He arranged a "romantic evening" with private fireworks, only for me to discover it was a birthday party for his mistress, Ava. I overheard him promise her my "Maya's Horizon" necklace, the one he gave me after the transplant. His friends were all in on it, laughing behind my back and calling me "the main course." After a car accident, I found them together at the hospital. She was pregnant with his child. When I lunged at her, he grabbed my wrist and snarled at me to apologize to his pregnant mistress. Then came the final blow. A text from Ava with a picture of the sonogram. "Our baby, Maya." Underneath it, a photo of her wearing my necklace. "He says it looks better on me." On our anniversary, I had his prized rose garden bulldozed. Then I had the divorce papers delivered to his office, along with every single taunting message Ava had ever sent me. By the time he read them, Maya Goldstein was already a ghost.

Chapter 1 No.1

My husband, Liam Goldstein, was publicly the perfect man. He donated a kidney to save my life and named the new tower of his corporate headquarters after me. The world saw us as the ultimate power couple, a love story for the ages.

But in private, he was cheating on me with an influencer.

He arranged a "romantic evening" with private fireworks, only for me to discover it was a birthday party for his mistress, Ava. I overheard him promise her my "Maya's Horizon" necklace, the one he gave me after the transplant. His friends were all in on it, laughing behind my back and calling me "the main course."

After a car accident, I found them together at the hospital. She was pregnant with his child.

When I lunged at her, he grabbed my wrist and snarled at me to apologize to his pregnant mistress.

Then came the final blow. A text from Ava with a picture of the sonogram. "Our baby, Maya." Underneath it, a photo of her wearing my necklace.

"He says it looks better on me."

On our anniversary, I had his prized rose garden bulldozed. Then I had the divorce papers delivered to his office, along with every single taunting message Ava had ever sent me. By the time he read them, Maya Goldstein was already a ghost.

Maya Goldstein dialed the number.

It was a number she knew by heart, a lifeline to a new beginning.

"Hello, sweetie," a warm, steady voice answered.

Her mother's.

"Mom," Maya said, her voice even despite the tremor in her hands. "It's time."

She stood by the large window of her Manhattan penthouse, looking down at the city that had been her stage.

There was a soft sigh on the other end, full of understanding. "He betrayed you, didn't he? I knew this day might come."

"Completely," Maya confirmed, her voice cold now. "I'm done. I'm coming home. But he can't find me. Ever."

"Don't you worry about a thing, Nightingale," her mother said, using Maya's childhood nickname. "You get yourself here. I'll handle the rest. I learned a thing or two about disappearing from a man who doesn't deserve you. He'll never find you in Montana."

The call ended.

Maya lowered her phone.

There was no need to destroy this one.

It was a link to her future, not her past.

It was done. The first step.

A news alert pinged on her phone. She glanced down.

Liam Goldstein, her husband, was on the screen.

He was at a press conference, charming, handsome.

The article was gushing about his latest dedication to her. "In a move that solidifies their status as the city's ultimate power couple, Goldstein yesterday dedicated the new West Tower of his corporate headquarters to his wife, naming it 'The Maya Goldstein Pavilion.'"

A picture showed Liam beaming beside a massive bronze plaque.

It followed with a montage of his other public devotions. "This comes just months after Mr. Goldstein funded a new oncology research wing at Mount Sinai, a cause famously dear to Mrs. Goldstein's heart."

And, of course, there was the "Maya's Horizon" necklace, unveiled last week at a charity gala.

A cascade of sapphires and diamonds, a multi-million dollar spectacle.

The article's closing line read, "A testament to their perfect love, a love story for the ages."

Maya watched, a bitter taste in her mouth.

Perfect love.

If only they knew.

The news segment continued, a montage of Liam's devotion.

"Four years ago, Mr. Goldstein donated a kidney to his then-fiancée, Maya, saving her life."

Footage of Liam, looking weaker but smiling, beside a recovering Maya in a hospital bed.

"He cultivated an award-winning white rose garden at their Hamptons estate, simply because white roses are her favorite."

A breathtaking shot of the sprawling garden.

"And who can forget the privately published 'Book of Us,' a collection of their most cherished moments, a true romantic gesture."

Close-up of a beautifully bound book.

Maya felt nothing watching it now, only a cold, hard knot in her stomach.

The public saw a saint. She knew the devil.

Her mind went back. Her parents' divorce.

A public, ugly mess. Infidelity splashed across tabloids.

It had made her terrified of commitment, of being fooled.

Liam had pursued her for three long years.

Relentless, charming, seemingly sincere.

He learned she coveted a rare first-edition book.

He found it at a high-stakes, underground auction.

There was a scuffle, an accident. Liam was badly injured, almost died, all to get her that book.

That grand, dangerous gesture. It had finally, foolishly, convinced her.

He had proposed then, in the hospital, pale but triumphant, the book on his bedside table.

She remembered her words, clear and precise, at their lavish wedding.

A vow that was also a warning.

She'd looked him in the eyes, her hand in his.

"I can forgive many things, Liam," she'd said, her voice soft but firm in the silent church.

"But not deceit. If you ever lie to me, truly lie, I will vanish from your life as if I never existed."

He had smiled, kissed her hand, promised her eternal honesty.

A promise he had shattered.

Three months ago. That was when her world had cracked.

It hadn't been a discovery. It had been an announcement.

A message from an unknown number. A picture of Ava Sinclair, a young, ambitious influencer, wearing a familiar silk robe.

Maya recognized the pattern. It was from their Hamptons house.

Then, the undeniable proof followed in a flood of taunts. Screenshots of Liam's messages to her. Hotel receipts he'd paid for. A video of him sleeping in a hotel bed, filmed by Ava herself.

"He says he loves you," one message read, "but he screams my name."

Maya had felt the ground disappear beneath her.

The betrayal wasn't just secret; it was being weaponized against her.

Liam came home late, smelling faintly of a perfume that wasn't hers.

He claimed it was a "business trip to Chicago."

He looked tired, but his eyes held a familiar spark of excitement she now knew wasn't for her.

Faint, almost invisible scratches, high on his neck, disappearing into his collar.

He tried to kiss her. She turned her head slightly.

"Long trip," he said, trying to sound casual.

He pulled out the actual "Maya's Horizon" necklace. It glittered under the lights.

"I had it cleaned," he said, his voice smooth. "For our anniversary next week."

Liar. He'd probably just taken it off Ava's neck.

The thought made Maya feel sick.

She feigned a smile, letting him fasten the cold jewels around her neck.

Earlier that day, she had sat at her desk, her signature firm and clear on the divorce papers.

She had sealed them in an envelope and contacted a high-security courier service.

"This needs to be delivered to Liam Goldstein at this address," she had instructed. "On this specific date."

She gave them the date of their wedding anniversary. The day she would be gone.

Liam, ever confident, ever oblivious, kissed her forehead, then headed for the shower, humming.

Maya watched him go. Two weeks.

By then, the papers would be in his hands, and Maya Goldstein would be a ghost.

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My life with Liam Goldstein was a fairytale, a perfect love story plastered across every magazine and TV screen in Manhattan. He'd even unveiled the "Maya's Horizon" necklace, a multi-million-dollar cascade of sapphires, celebrating our perfect devotion. But fairytales are just that – tales. Then came the burner phone, the hushed calls, the screenshots, and hotel receipts that screamed 'affair'. I watched him live-stream gifts to his young mistress, Ava Sinclair, calling her his "queen," only to later find her visibly pregnant in a hospital, flaunting our engagement necklace and talking about a "situation" with me. His friends, the same ones who toasted our "perfect love," smirked as he publicly kissed Ava and joked about his "side action," assuring her I'd "never find out." Every grand gesture he'd made, from donating a kidney to cultivating a white rose garden, flashed before my eyes, revealing themselves as calculated performances. How could the man who saved my life, the one I vowed to, betray me with such grotesque audacity, in front of the world and his complicit inner circle? It felt like a sick cosmic joke, a public humiliation disguised as love. But I had given him a warning on our wedding day: "If you ever lie to me, truly lie, I will vanish from your life as if I never existed." Now, it was time to activate the Phoenix Initiative, erase Maya Goldstein, and leave Liam with nothing but ghost of a promise he had shattered.

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