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The Price of Deception, A Broken Man

Chapter 1 

Word Count: 754    |    Released on: 07/07/2025

years, every dollar I made, every drop of sweat, was for Sophia. Her mother was si

wor

ed, and I took odd jobs like this one, playing a monster in a haunted escape room on a Saturday night.

d cheap fog machine fluid. I was supposed to be a "forgotten soul," lurkin

ar mix of exhaustion and love. I just wanted to finish t

n, flooding the dim space with bright, clean light from the m

umbled through, tang

rink," the woman laughed, her voice a melody that sh

voice better

as S

was supposed to be at home, resting. She' d sai

n expensive-looking watch that glinted under the harsh lobby lig

babe? Scared of a lit

y loud and dressed in designer clothes tha

pretty lame," one of the friends

every dollar we spent on groceries, giggled. It was a light, carefree soun

ure in the corner. She didn't recognize me. T

"Hey, look at this guy. He's

She walked right up to me. My heart hammered again

tly manicured finger. The fabric of my costume was

ripping with a contempt I'd never

me stumble back against the wall. The push was a ph

r workers," Liam chuckled, p

poor, struggling types. An artist. You have no idea how draining it is. He works all thes

sual, so cruel, slammed into me. M

smirk playing on her lips. "He gives me all

was a roar in my ears. It

hands clenched into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms

woman I loved, the woman I was killing myself for, laughe

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The Price of Deception, A Broken Man
The Price of Deception, A Broken Man
“For three years, every ache in my artist' s hands, every mile on my delivery bike, every humiliating monster costume in a haunted escape room, had a purpose: Sophia. "Her mother is sick," she' d told me, her eyes wet, "crushed by a mountain of medical debt." So, I worked, pouring every dollar and ounce of my being into a future where her worry would finally vanish. But on a Saturday night, lurking in the stale, fog-filled hall of that escape room, an emergency exit burst open, flooding the space with laughter. And out stumbled Sophia, tangled up with a man, Liam, in an expensive suit, his hand possessively on her waist. "My boyfriend is one of these poor, struggling types," she sneered, oblivious to my presence behind the flimsy foam mask. "An artist. It's almost cute, in a sad way. He thinks my mom's sick. The fool." The world tilted. My vision blurred. She wasn' t just with another man; she was mocking my every sacrifice. Then, a check for fifty thousand dollars, signed by Liam Davis, fluttered from her dropped purse. I, the "starving artist," the "toy," the "fool," had been systematically fleeced, my love twisted into a sick joke. The real Sophia – vibrant, passionate, and deeply in love with Liam – appeared on a security monitor, kissing him, shielding him from the camera, as employees whispered about their engagement. "She' s been playing him this whole time," one said, a chilling confirmation of my shattered reality. Her "mom," Evelyn Davis, Liam' s mother, appeared in a photograph on my nightstand - stark evidence of Sophia' s audacious lies. "It' s over, Sophia," I whispered, broken, walking away from the screams and lies, embracing the cold, hard choice of letting go. Now, stripped of everything, lost and collapsing on a wet street, I knew one thing: I was done waiting for her.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10