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The Debt Collector's Wife

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 431    |    Released on: 21/06/2025

part of the

him feed me soup. I cried when

machine. Observi

d me. Docile, gr

as w

, replaying them in my head w

iness trips" that coincided with her political rallies. The way he dismissed my

was a long, patient game of

out. I nee

e person I could

itor who saw the fire in me before the Caldwell name polished it away.

for a "press conference"

ld investigation, hidden in a book. My fi

g thre

e was gravelly, ju

ispered. "I

a. I saw the news. I'm s

s the least

e. The dossier. The sedatives. The p

evoid of emotion. I was a journalist report

ting. When I finished, the s

" he asked, his voi

'm sedated. He's got the

t you know anything. Play t

arning,

f there. But Elara, you need to be ready. This is bigge

settling in my gut. "They start

said. "Hang ti

icker of something I th

o

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The Debt Collector's Wife
The Debt Collector's Wife
“My life was a carefully constructed story, and I was its star. Elara Caldwell, the graceful "American Princess" adored by the public. An investigative journalist, married to rising Congressman Julian, our life was a perfect Georgetown fairytale. Seven months pregnant, I believed I had it all. Then, one quiet night, a live stream from Julian's "charity poker game" changed everything. He wasn't betting money with senators and lobbyists. He was betting "the exclusive rights to a dossier. Kompromat. On my wife." My name, my life, was being auctioned off. He planned to leak fabricated dirt, declare me mentally unstable, seize my assets, and gain full custody of our unborn son. His chilling motive: "This is for Scarlett. It's time to collect the debt." Julian returned home, his face a perfect mask of affection, while taunting texts and media alerts painted me as unraveling. He forced sedatives on me, trapping me in our "perfect" home. The immense stress became a physical weight, and I collapsed in the nursery. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my hand flying to a now-flat stomach. Our baby was gone. Through the slightly ajar door, I heard Julian' s furious voice, not grieving, but raging about political timing, eager to spin my tragedy for his gain. His "love" was a practiced act, his ambition a poison. I was not his wife; I was a placeholder. My unborn son, a final payment in a twisted game I never knew I was playing. The tears stopped. An icy resolve settled within me, replacing the hollow emptiness. I looked at the monster masquerading as my loving husband. And I began to plan.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10