Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter

Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter

Gong Zi

5.0
Comment(s)
2.4K
View
10
Chapters

As a ghost, I watched my parents arrive at my crime scene. My mother, a renowned surgeon, and my father, the District Attorney, were there to consult on the brutal murder of an unidentified young woman. That young woman was me. But they didn't know. To them, I was just Jane Doe, a messy case and an inconvenient headline. My mother examined my broken body with chilling detachment, her analysis of the torture wounds purely clinical. My father arrived, complaining about the political fallout and the bad press. Standing just feet from my corpse, they discussed their "missing" daughter-me. "She's just being dramatic," my father scoffed. "Probably shacked up with some loser to get back at us." They were more worried about my adopted brother, the golden boy Javon, and his upcoming championship game. I was the family's problem in life, and it seemed I was an even bigger problem in death. The irony was a physical weight. They were talking about me, their lost daughter, while my body lay decomposing at their feet. They were blind, wrapped up in their perfect lives and their love for the son who orchestrated my end. But they would find out. The killer made one mistake. He forced me to swallow a tiny pet microchip, a clue registered in my name. A piece of evidence that would not only give me back my identity but would expose the monster they called a son and burn their perfect world to the ground.

Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter Chapter 1

As a ghost, I watched my parents arrive at my crime scene. My mother, a renowned surgeon, and my father, the District Attorney, were there to consult on the brutal murder of an unidentified young woman.

That young woman was me. But they didn't know. To them, I was just Jane Doe, a messy case and an inconvenient headline.

My mother examined my broken body with chilling detachment, her analysis of the torture wounds purely clinical. My father arrived, complaining about the political fallout and the bad press.

Standing just feet from my corpse, they discussed their "missing" daughter-me.

"She's just being dramatic," my father scoffed. "Probably shacked up with some loser to get back at us."

They were more worried about my adopted brother, the golden boy Javon, and his upcoming championship game. I was the family's problem in life, and it seemed I was an even bigger problem in death.

The irony was a physical weight. They were talking about me, their lost daughter, while my body lay decomposing at their feet. They were blind, wrapped up in their perfect lives and their love for the son who orchestrated my end.

But they would find out. The killer made one mistake. He forced me to swallow a tiny pet microchip, a clue registered in my name. A piece of evidence that would not only give me back my identity but would expose the monster they called a son and burn their perfect world to the ground.

Chapter 1

The first thing I noticed was the damp smell of decay. It clung to the overgrown weeds and seeped into the muddy ground beneath the overpass. It was the smell of my own body.

A jogger found me. His gasp was a sharp tear in the morning quiet. He fumbled for his phone, his voice shaking as he spoke to the 911 operator.

"There's a body. A girl. Oh God, it's bad."

I watched him, a ghost tethered to the thing I used to be. The world had gone hazy, like looking through water, but I could see him. I could see everything.

Soon, the area was flooded with the flashing red and blue lights of police cars. Yellow tape went up, creating a neat, official box around the chaos of my death. They moved with a practiced calm, their voices low and serious.

Then, a sleek black sedan pulled up. A woman stepped out, and a cold stillness settled over my phantom form.

My mother.

Dr. Diane Ochoa. Renowned ER trauma surgeon. She wore her authority like the expensive coat draped over her shoulders. Her face was a mask of professional focus.

"Diane, thanks for coming," a detective said, leading her under the tape. "It's a mess. We need your eye before the ME gets here."

"Of course," she said. Her voice was clipped, efficient. The same voice she used when I tried to tell her about my day.

She walked towards me, her expensive leather shoes sinking slightly into the soft earth. She didn't flinch. She'd seen worse, I knew. She saw worse every day in her pristine, sterile emergency room.

Her gaze swept over the scene, taking in the details with a chilling detachment. She knelt beside my broken form, her movements precise. She was a scientist studying a specimen.

"No visible ID," the detective noted.

Diane nodded, her eyes fixed on the brutal injuries that made my face unrecognizable. "The killer didn't want her found quickly. Or identified."

She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, the snap echoing in the unnatural silence. I watched her hands, the same hands that had once held me as a baby. The same hands that had pushed me away when I tried to hug her last week.

She began her preliminary examination, her touch impersonal and clinical. She noted the defensive wounds on my arms, the broken fingers. She pointed out the ligature marks around my neck.

"Strangled," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "But not before... other things happened."

There was no horror in her voice. Only analysis. She was a puzzle solver, and I was the most complicated puzzle she'd ever faced. She just didn't know it yet.

Then, she did something that made my non-existent heart ache. She reached out and gently brushed a matted strand of hair from my cheek. It was a gesture of tenderness, a flicker of humanity I had so rarely received from her in life.

I had spent my entire existence begging for a touch like that. A touch that said she saw me.

Now, in death, a stranger received it.

She didn't know it was me. To her, I was just Jane Doe. A case. A headline in the making that would be an annoyance for her husband, the District Attorney.

I was a problem for them in life. It seemed I would be a problem in death, too.

Her professional mask was perfect. Not a single crack. She stood up, stripping off the gloves.

"Victim is a young woman, late teens, maybe early twenties. Severe blunt force trauma to the head and face. Evidence of torture. Time of death is likely within the last 48 to 72 hours."

She gave her report to the detective, her voice steady.

But I saw it. A slight tremor in her hand as she tucked it into her pocket. A flicker of something in her eyes. Not recognition. Not yet.

It was something else. A buried, professional weariness. Or maybe, just maybe, a splinter of the horror she refused to let herself feel.

She was the best at her job because she could turn off her emotions. She had to. But I wondered, as I hovered in the cold air, if she ever turned them back on.

Especially for me.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gong Zi

More

You'll also like

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Dorine Koestler
4.2

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.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer
5.0

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

Madel Cerda
4.6

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Huo Wuer
4.5

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter Gong Zi Fantasy
“As a ghost, I watched my parents arrive at my crime scene. My mother, a renowned surgeon, and my father, the District Attorney, were there to consult on the brutal murder of an unidentified young woman. That young woman was me. But they didn't know. To them, I was just Jane Doe, a messy case and an inconvenient headline. My mother examined my broken body with chilling detachment, her analysis of the torture wounds purely clinical. My father arrived, complaining about the political fallout and the bad press. Standing just feet from my corpse, they discussed their "missing" daughter-me. "She's just being dramatic," my father scoffed. "Probably shacked up with some loser to get back at us." They were more worried about my adopted brother, the golden boy Javon, and his upcoming championship game. I was the family's problem in life, and it seemed I was an even bigger problem in death. The irony was a physical weight. They were talking about me, their lost daughter, while my body lay decomposing at their feet. They were blind, wrapped up in their perfect lives and their love for the son who orchestrated my end. But they would find out. The killer made one mistake. He forced me to swallow a tiny pet microchip, a clue registered in my name. A piece of evidence that would not only give me back my identity but would expose the monster they called a son and burn their perfect world to the ground.”
1

Chapter 1

10/09/2025

2

Chapter 2

10/09/2025

3

Chapter 3

10/09/2025

4

Chapter 4

10/09/2025

5

Chapter 5

10/09/2025

6

Chapter 6

10/09/2025

7

Chapter 7

10/09/2025

8

Chapter 8

10/09/2025

9

Chapter 9

10/09/2025

10

Chapter 10

10/09/2025