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Her Vengeance, His Broken Heart

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 911    |    Released on: 04/07/2025

was now an artifact of a grand deception. Sarah had arranged for a hospital bed to be installed in the living room, alo

, mocking me with the memory of Leo' s laughter. I would stare at it for hours from the window, the cold rage

handled all the calls of condolence with a voice full of carefully crafted sorrow. She floated through the house, a specter of fal

she had an empire to run, even in her feigned mourning. There were calls she had to

' d carelessly left on the coffee table. It was open. My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew her pa

much time. I scrolled quickly, m

. A short, t

everythin

omplete success. D is recove

God. What

. He is a broken man

screen with my phone, my hand shaking so badly I almost dropped it. Th

to. She claimed it was where she did her most sensitive work. I knew there was a spare

etting up the stairs was an agonizing, difficult process. I had to use my arms to haul my dead leg

e key, and wheeled myself to h

like a command center. But I wasn't interested in the decor. I started searching. Her desk drawers were locked,

Papers.

at. I was about to give up when my eyes caught a framed picture on her desk. It wasn't of me and her, or even of Leo. It was a

I looked at the safe's keypad. It required a six-digit cod

n. The safe

hick manila envelope. My hand

ns. Father: Alex Thompson. Following it were Daisy' s complete medical records, d

m, there was a folder

Notes on how to induce specific, non-lethal injuries to a second passenger to create a diversion. A payment ledger detailing transfers to an

orrifying truth, laid

p, and I felt nothing but a vast, empty cold. The grief was gone. The rage

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Her Vengeance, His Broken Heart
Her Vengeance, His Broken Heart
“They called me Liam Miller, the luckiest man in New York City. My son, Leo, was the center of my universe, and my wife, Sarah, seemed to worship us both. Our perfect life shattered one rainy day on the highway, a blinding flash of light, twisting metal, and then, nothing. I woke to the sterile whiteness of a hospital room, a rhythmic beep the only sound, Sarah by my side, her face pale, her grip tight. "Leo," I rasped, the word a physical wrench from my raw throat. "Where' s Leo? I need to see my son." Her face crumpled as she squeezed my hand, "There was an accident. He... he lost too much blood, honey. He died at the scene." The world spun into a gray vortex; panic choked me, then, mercifully, blackness. The next time I woke, I heard voices near the door-Sarah and the attending doctor. "Ms. Jenkins, your son could have been saved, but why did you...?" Sarah' s response was chilling, utterly devoid of emotion, "Liam Miller' s son, from the day he was born, was meant to save Alex' s daughter." Alex? The name struck me as foreign, out of place. "If he lived," Sarah continued, her voice like ice, "how could I legitimately take his organs? I' ve supported Liam and his son for years; now it' s their turn to repay me." The words struck harder than the truck, poisoning every memory, every cherished moment. The private island, the Fortress of Solitude – all a lie, a calculated investment, my son a resource, his life a debt she had come to collect. The grief didn't vanish; it transformed into a cold, hard resolve. My body was broken, but my mind had never been clearer. She wanted repayment? Fine. I would give her what she wanted.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10