From His Prison To Sweet Freedom

Name: From His Prison To Sweet Freedom
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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My billionaire husband fell under the spell of a New Age guru who let my mother die, calling her cancer a "karmic debt." His devotion to her became my personal hell. He locked me in a room full of snakes, carved flesh from my arm as a ritual sacrifice, and finally, had my dog killed and forced me to eat the remains. The man who once swore to protect me became my tormentor. But he made a fatal mistake. He didn't realize our divorce had just been finalized. So I walked out of that house, went straight to the airport, and started a livestream to burn his entire empire to the ground.

Revenge Divorce CEO Billionaires Kickass Heroine

Chapter 21

09-30 12:02

Chapter 1

My billionaire husband fell under the spell of a New Age guru who let my mother die, calling her cancer a "karmic debt."

His devotion to her became my personal hell. He locked me in a room full of snakes, carved flesh from my arm as a ritual sacrifice, and finally, had my dog killed and forced me to eat the remains.

The man who once swore to protect me became my tormentor.

But he made a fatal mistake.

He didn't realize our divorce had just been finalized.

So I walked out of that house, went straight to the airport, and started a livestream to burn his entire empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

Alya Cobb POV:

Everyone knew the story of how my husband, the tech billionaire Jason Rodriguez, saved my life. It was a modern fairytale, splashed across magazine covers and talk shows. Alya Cobb, the ordinary girl, and Jason Rodriguez, the brilliant CEO who pulled her from the wreckage of a car crash and swore eternal devotion. For three years, that fairytale was my reality.

Then, six months ago, everything changed.

I found out my marriage was over the same way the rest of the world did: on a news alert that flashed across my phone screen.

Jason Rodriguez, CEO of "Aether," Spotted with Mysterious Wellness Guru Genesis Caldwell. Sources Say They're "Twin Flames."

The picture attached showed Jason, my Jason, looking at a woman with an adoration I hadn't seen in his eyes for months. It was a raw, unguarded look, one he used to reserve only for me.

The woman, Genesis Caldwell, was ethereal. She wore flowing white linen, turquoise bracelets stacked up her arms, and a serene smile that looked practiced. The media called her a New Age visionary. They said she could read energy fields and communicate with the universe. She spoke in a hypnotic, gentle voice about karma, energy, and natural healing.

Jason became her most fervent disciple. He poured hundreds of millions into her "wellness sanctuary," a sprawling compound in the desert. He attended her seminars, quoted her teachings, and slowly, methodically, began to erase me from his life.

My heart felt like a block of ice in my chest as I scrolled through article after article. The pain was a physical thing, a cold weight that made it hard to breathe. I had to hear it from him. I had to look him in the eye and make him say it.

That night, I waited for him in the vast, sterile living room of our Silicon Valley mansion, the silence pressing in on me.

He walked in just after midnight, his footsteps silent on the marble floor. He didn't seem surprised to see me. There was no guilt in his eyes, only a distant, placid calm. It was the same look he had in the photos with her.

"Jason," I started, my voice trembling. "We need to talk."

He looked at me, his dark eyes unreadable. "What is there to talk about, Alya?"

I held up my phone, the picture of him and Genesis glowing in the dim light. "This. Her. What is this?"

He didn't even flinch. "That's Genesis," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. "She's... my everything."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my mouth. My vision blurred. "Your everything? What am I, Jason? What about us?"

"I met my twin flame, Alya. That changes things."

I stared at him, my body shaking. My face was pale, all the blood draining away. "So you're leaving me?"

"No," he said, and for a moment, a wild, stupid hope flared in my chest. "I have no intention of divorcing you. You are still Mrs. Rodriguez. But I need you to understand. Genesis is the other half of my soul. I will not give her up. You will not interfere."

The hope died as quickly as it came, replaced by a cold, searing rage. "You want me to just... accept this? To stand by while you parade this woman around as the love of your life? After everything we've been through? After you swore you would love me forever?"

My voice cracked. I felt a sob building in my throat, hot and tight.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, but my body wouldn't obey. I was frozen, trapped in a nightmare.

A part of me, a desperate, pathetic part, still clung to the man he used to be. It whispered that this was just a phase, that he would wake up and come back to me.

That pathetic hope was the beginning of my end.

Jason brought Genesis into our home. She glided through the rooms as if she owned them, her serene smile never wavering. She rearranged the furniture to "improve the energy flow." She replaced my personal photos with crystals and incense burners. Jason watched her with blind devotion, granting her every whim.

Then my mother got sick. A sudden, aggressive cancer. The doctors said her only chance was an experimental treatment, but it was astronomically expensive.

I was frantic. I went to Genesis, who Jason had put in charge of the household finances, and begged her for the money.

She listened with that same placid smile, her eyes empty of any real emotion. "I'm sorry, Alya," she said, her voice like soft chimes. "But Jason and I have discussed this. Your mother's illness is a karmic debt. We cannot interfere with the universe's plan for her."

"A plan? She's dying!" I screamed, my control finally snapping. "This isn't karma, it's cancer! We have the money to save her!"

"Modern medicine is a poison," Genesis said calmly, shaking her head. "It disrupts the body's natural energy. The best thing for your mother is to accept her journey. I will go to the hospital and help her meditate. I will guide her transition to the next plane."

"Stay away from my mother," I snarled, lunging for her.

My fingers had just brushed her linen sleeve when Jason appeared in the doorway. He saw my raised hand, he saw the tears streaming down my face. He saw Genesis stumble back, a flicker of fear in her eyes.

"Jason, thank goodness," Genesis whispered, her voice trembling as she rushed to his side. "I was just trying to explain to Alya that her mother's journey is a sacred one, but she became so... violent. Her energy is very dark right now."

Jason's face was a mask of cold fury. He didn't even look at me. "Take Alya to her room," he ordered the two bodyguards standing behind him. "Lock the door. She is not to leave until she learns to respect Genesis."

"Jason, no!" I cried out, reaching for him. "My mother is dying! Please, you have to help her. You promised you would always take care of me, of my family!"

He looked at me then, his eyes as cold and hard as stone. He pried my fingers from his arm, one by one. "I made a promise to Genesis now," he said, his voice flat. "And I will do anything to prove my love for her."

The guards dragged me away, my screams echoing through the cavernous house. They threw me into my bedroom and the lock clicked shut.

I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. I remembered the night of the accident. He had held my hand in the ambulance, his face streaked with dirt and tears, and whispered, "I'll never let anything hurt you again, Alya. I swear it."

I stayed locked in that room all night, the silence broken only by my own desperate prayers.

The next morning, the door opened. Genesis stood there, holding a tablet.

"Your mother passed away an hour ago," she said, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Her karmic debt has been paid."

A wave of nausea and grief so profound it felt like dying washed over me. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe.

"Jason felt it was best to handle the arrangements quickly, to avoid any negative energy lingering," she continued, swiping a finger across the tablet. "He arranged for a sky burial. It's a beautiful, natural process where the body is returned to the elements."

She turned the tablet towards me.

On the screen was a video. A high, windy plateau. My mother's body, laid out on a stone platform. Vultures descending from the sky.

I saw it. I saw them tearing at her flesh.

A guttural scream ripped from my throat. I launched myself at Genesis, my grief and fury a white-hot explosion. I wanted to tear her serene face to shreds.

Jason was there in an instant, pulling me off her, his grip like steel. "Alya, stop it!"

"She desecrated my mother!" I shrieked, fighting against him. "You let her do this!"

"It was a sacred ritual," Jason said, his voice strained as he held the sobbing Genesis behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook. "I know you're upset. Here. This should cover your pain and suffering."

He scribbled a number with so many zeros I couldn't count them and tried to press the check into my hand.

The insult, the sheer callousness of it, broke something inside me. A hot, metallic taste filled my mouth. I looked down and saw a splash of crimson on the white marble floor.

I coughed, and more blood came out.

The last thing I saw before the world went black was Jason's face, a flicker of something-was it shock? alarm?-in his cold eyes. I remembered the way he used to look at me, with so much love it felt like the sun.

Then, nothing. My heart, finally, was dead. I decided right then and there. This marriage had to end.