My Husband, My Hero, My Baby

“The holographic face of Ms. Albright shimmered, echoing a prediction: at twenty, I' d face a heartbreak, a betrayal that would shatter my world. It was my father' s solution – a high-tech "blind date" app with ninety-nine vetted bachelors – that changed everything. The catch wasn't just my hand in marriage; it was Miller Tech, his entire empire. A cold dread seeped in, a memory so sharp it felt real. In my past life, this was where my destruction began. I remembered choosing Brandon Hayes, the charismatic CEO, who promised the world then systematically destroyed me. He stripped me of everything – my inheritance, my dignity, my name – framing me for corporate espionage. I died alone, my reputation shattered, watching him praised as a visionary. But now, I was back. Twenty again, standing in my father' s office, the app open on the tablet. "Chloe, honey? Are you alright? You look pale." I looked at my father, his face etched with genuine concern, and a fierce, protective love surged through me. This time, I would not let that monster destroy him, or me. My finger hovered over Brandon's profile, a perfect trap. With a deliberate, steady hand, I swiped his profile to the digital trash bin. "I don' t like him," I said, my voice flat. I closed my eyes and let my finger fall randomly on one of the ninety-eight remaining profiles. A new screen loaded. The picture was grainy, a low-quality headshot: Jake "Bulldog" Riley. Former Navy SEAL. Honorably discharged after a career-ending injury. "Him?" my father' s voice was laced with disbelief. "He' s... a nobody." "I' m sure, Dad," I said, My voice unwavering. This was my choice. Anyone but Brandon Hayes. I had a feeling about him. A lie and the truest thing I' d ever said. The news of my choice rippled through the city' s elite, painting me as a naive fool or rebellious brat. Brandon must have heard. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't possibly know that I was choosing a stranger not out of foolishness, but out of the bitter, hard-won wisdom of a ghost. A fragmented memory surfaced – a charity gala years ago, a fire. Brandon had claimed credit for getting me out, but now, another image fought its way forward. Someone strong, silent, moving with purpose through the chaos. He had pulled me through a service exit, away from the stampeding crowd, before melting back into the shadows. I never saw his face clearly – until now. What if my random choice wasn' t so random after all?”