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The Price of Betrayal: A Husband's Revenge

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 682    |    Released on: 09/07/2025

ad stolen my future. She had stolen five years of my life, feeding me a slow-drip poison of false hope and

nto the bedroom. I had been st

, her voice full of that practiced, gent

flinched, an involuntary jerk away from her. Her hand stopped, hov

a source of comfort, now felt like a brand. Th

t," she whispered, trying again to soothe

at kind of dark, obsessive love for one man could drive her to meticulously and cruelly dismantle the life

my shirt buttons. I nodded along to her empty reassurances. But inside, I was a detached observer, watching her

It was a space I rarely entered. In the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet, locked a

It was a scrapbook. A

of him at galas, looking handsome and successful. There were even candid shots I'd never se

hings I had drawn before the accident. But something was wrong. In the bottom right corner, where my signature should have been, it was different. She had painstakingly trace

om our wedding day. Olivia and me. But she had taken a craft knife and carefully, crudely, cut

re in Chicago. I realized with a sickening lurch that every single location was a place Mark had won an award, or a place he had publicly stated he love

splacing the pain. This had to end. I wasn't

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The Price of Betrayal: A Husband's Revenge
The Price of Betrayal: A Husband's Revenge
“My life, once a meticulously designed blueprint, began its demolition on the eve of my wedding. I was Ethan Miller, an architect on the verge of having it all, returning home to celebrate with my fiancée. Instead, I found her in our bedroom with my best man, a scene that shattered everything. Fleeing into the night, a car blared, then metal met bone, and blinding pain consumed my right arm. I woke in a hospital, my dominant hand irreparably damaged, my career as an architect declared over. The world celebrated my tragedy; my fiancée and best man married in my place, turning my life into a public spectacle of pity and gossip. The pain in my chest eclipsed the physical agony as my identity crumbled, rendering me a broken man, a backdrop for my betrayer' s rising star. I spiraled, questioning the point of it all, refusing to eat, to heal, to exist. My professional talent, the very core of my being, had become a burden, a target for those who sought to elevate themselves on my ruins. Then, in my deepest despair, Olivia Chen, my betrayer's best friend, appeared as my savior. She became my devoted wife, meticulously managing my recovery, holding me through frustrated tears, and becoming the anchor in my new, quiet life. Until a Tuesday. When I returned home early, the words from the sun-room sliced through the quiet, words spoken by Olivia and my physical therapist. "You arranged for him to be hit by a car for Mark Davis." "Yes." My world collapsed again. The woman who saved me, who spoke words of love, was my captor. She had orchestrated my accident, meticulously sabotaged my recovery, all to ensure Mark Davis's success. It wasn't love; it was a cage, a beautifully crafted prison designed to keep me broken, a pawn in their twisted game fueled by her obsessed ambition for Mark. Every tender touch, every encouraging word, a calculated lie. My love, her most effective weapon. How could I have been so blind? How could the woman I trusted with my broken heart be the architect of my ruin? Was there any truth to anything she ever said? This betrayal, so absolute, left me hollow, yet a cold clarity began to form. I was done being a victim.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10