He Drowned Me, I Burned His World.

He Drowned Me, I Burned His World.

Gavin

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My fiancé, Anthony, built an entire virtual world for me after a climbing accident left me in a wheelchair. He called it Aethelgard, my sanctuary. In his game, I wasn't broken; I was Valkyrie, the unrivaled champion. He was my savior, the man who patiently nursed me back from the brink. Then, I saw a live stream of him on stage at a tech conference. With his arm wrapped around my physical therapist, Dahlia, he announced to the world that she was the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with. The truth was a waking nightmare. He wasn't just cheating; he was secretly switching my pain medication for a weaker dose with sedatives, intentionally slowing my recovery to keep me weak and dependent. He gave Dahlia my one-of-a-kind bracelet, my virtual title, and even the wedding plans I had made for us. He leaked a humiliating photo of me at my lowest point, turning the entire gaming community against me and branding me a stalker. The final blow came when I tried to confront him at his victory party. His security guards beat me, and on his casual command, they threw my unconscious body into a filthy fountain to "sober me up." The man who swore to build a world where I would never struggle had tried to drown me in it. But I survived. I left him and that city behind, and as my legs grew strong again, so did my resolve. He stole my name, my legacy, and my world. Now, I'm logging back in, not as Valkyrie, but as myself. And I'm going to burn his empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

My fiancé, Anthony, built an entire virtual world for me after a climbing accident left me in a wheelchair. He called it Aethelgard, my sanctuary. In his game, I wasn't broken; I was Valkyrie, the unrivaled champion. He was my savior, the man who patiently nursed me back from the brink.

Then, I saw a live stream of him on stage at a tech conference. With his arm wrapped around my physical therapist, Dahlia, he announced to the world that she was the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with.

The truth was a waking nightmare. He wasn't just cheating; he was secretly switching my pain medication for a weaker dose with sedatives, intentionally slowing my recovery to keep me weak and dependent.

He gave Dahlia my one-of-a-kind bracelet, my virtual title, and even the wedding plans I had made for us.

He leaked a humiliating photo of me at my lowest point, turning the entire gaming community against me and branding me a stalker.

The final blow came when I tried to confront him at his victory party. His security guards beat me, and on his casual command, they threw my unconscious body into a filthy fountain to "sober me up."

The man who swore to build a world where I would never struggle had tried to drown me in it.

But I survived. I left him and that city behind, and as my legs grew strong again, so did my resolve. He stole my name, my legacy, and my world. Now, I'm logging back in, not as Valkyrie, but as myself. And I'm going to burn his empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

Elsa Salas POV:

The only light in my bedroom came from the phone in my hands. Anthony' s face, sculpted and perfect even on the small screen, was illuminated by the stage lights of the tech conference he was speaking at. A live stream. I should have been there, in the front row, his proud fiancée. Instead, I was here, in the gilded cage he' d built for me after the accident.

His voice, usually a warm balm on my frayed nerves, echoed unnaturally in the silent room. It was the same voice that had whispered promises to me in the dark, the same voice that had coached me through agonizing hours of physical therapy.

But the words were all wrong.

"Dahlia Hopper is more than just an exceptional physical therapist," he announced to the cheering crowd, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Dahlia, my therapist. Her smile was blindingly bright, a perfect imitation of the one I used to have before my world crumbled with a shower of loose rock and the sickening snap of bone. "She is the inspiration behind the next evolution of Aethelgard Chronicles. She is the heart of our company. And she is the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with."

The air left my lungs in a painful rush. My knuckles turned white where I gripped the phone, the smooth casing digging into my palm. A video clip, sent to me by an anonymous number just moments ago, played on a loop. It was a snippet from a gossip site's social media feed, posted less than an hour ago.

The woman he intends to spend the rest of his life with.

The words bounced around in my skull, hollow and meaningless. If she was that woman, then who was I?

The bedroom door clicked open, spilling a sliver of hallway light across the floor.

"Elsa? Baby, why are all the lights off?" Anthony' s voice, now laced with a familiar, practiced concern, cut through the darkness.

The main lights flickered on, and my eyes squeezed shut against the sudden brightness. Footsteps rushed toward me, the expensive leather of his shoes whispering against the hardwood. He knelt beside my wheelchair, his hand cool on my forehead.

"You' re clammy. Are you in pain? Did you miss a dose of your medication?"

I slowly opened my eyes, my gaze tracing the worried lines on his handsome face. This was the man who had sat by my hospital bed for weeks. The man who had patiently fed me, bathed me, and whispered that my broken body was still the only thing he wanted. He had created Aethelgard Chronicles, a revolutionary haptic VR game, just for me, a world where I could climb mountains again, where my legs worked perfectly, where I was strong.

But the man on that stage, the man who had just pledged his life to another woman... that wasn't my Anthony. Or maybe, the Anthony I knew had never existed at all.

I held up my phone. "Who is Dahlia Hopper to you, Anthony?"

He took the phone, his smile faltering as he saw the video. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before being swiftly replaced by a look of weary frustration.

"Oh, God. This again?" He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Baby, I told you. Her parents are major investors. They' ve been pressuring her to settle down, and she asked me to help her create a... public persona. A temporary fake relationship to get them off her back. It' s all business."

Dahlia. The therapist he had hired for me three months ago. The one who was supposed to be helping me regain my independence.

I remained silent, watching him. His initial panic felt too real.

He must have seen the doubt in my eyes because he scrambled to pull out his own phone. "Look," he said, shoving his screen in front of my face. "Here are our texts. It' s all there. Planning the announcement, coordinating with her family' s PR team. It' s just a game, Elsa. A corporate one."

I scanned the messages. They seemed... plausible. Clinical, even. Full of business jargon and scheduling notes. My heart, which had felt like a block of ice in my chest, began to thaw, just a little.

"Okay," I whispered, the fight draining out of me. I was tired. So tired of the pain, the suspicion, the four walls of this room.

He looked relieved, his shoulders slumping. He pulled me into a hug, burying his face in my hair. "I swear to you, Elsa," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the only one. Always. Nothing and no one will ever come between us."

I leaned into him, letting the familiar scent of his cologne wash over me. I wanted to believe him. I needed to.

"Help me up," I said, a new resolve hardening my voice. "I want to practice walking."

His face lit up with that savior' s smile I had fallen in love with. "Of course, my love. Anything for you."

He helped me to my feet, his hands steady and strong on my waist, his movements careful and practiced. I took a tentative step, then another, my legs trembling but holding. We were making our way across the room when his pocket buzzed.

He flinched, pulling away to check the phone.

"Just take it, Anthony," I said, leaning against the wall for support. "It' s probably work."

He gave me a grateful look and stepped out into the hallway to answer, closing the door softly behind him.

I stayed there for a moment, my breath coming in ragged pants. I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and pushed off the wall. One step. Then two. My movements grew steadier, more confident. A real smile, the first one in months, touched my lips. I could do this. I was getting stronger.

I made my way across the room, my hand gliding along the wall, until I reached the door. I wanted to show him. I wanted to see the pride in his eyes, to prove that his faith in me-our faith in us-wasn't misplaced.

My fingers brushed against the cool metal of the doorknob just as his voice drifted from the hallway, low and stripped of all its practiced warmth.

"I know, Dahlia, I know. I love her, I do. But it' s not the same. How could I ever leave you?"

My blood ran cold.

"She saw the video, I had to calm her down. Don' t worry, she bought it." A pause. "Yes, I' ve already spoken to the pharmacist. We' ll switch out her pain medication tomorrow for the lower dose with the sedative side effects. It will slow her recovery progress just enough. We just need a little more time."

"No one will ever find out about us. I promise."

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