His Obsession, Her Second Life

brain injury from a car wreck turned him into a violent monste

d. She was supposed to help him heal, but instead,

eamed a warning. But Declan didn't protect me. He pulled me in

beginning. For Christie, he let his men throw me down a flight of st

red me in a staged car crash, leaving

, not dead, b

ed me. This time, things wou

pte

rutal flash of twisted metal and Declan' s face, cold and unconcerned, as

e morning sun streamed through the window. It was a day I re

given a sec

of abuse that hadn't happened yet in this timeline. The resolve was

. My father, Albert Avery, was in the living room, readi

theart. Declan

. I walked straight to him,

to break the

furrowed with confusion. He looked at me, really loo

g? Did you and Declan

w about the nights Declan, in a blind rage, would throw things, his voice a roar tha

, my nails digging into my palms. The physical pain

t anymore, Dad.

s a vague answer, but it was all I c

me with worried eyes. He knew.

looded in, unw

nfident CEO, and I was his proud fiancée. Our life was a fairy tale. He was gentle, adoring. He

T-boned his car. He survived, but a tr

entle Declan was gone, replaced by a monster plagued

set him off. A misplaced book, a meal that wasn't

wn a heavy glass statue, aiming for th

he crumpled to the floor. He sobbed, banging his own head against the hardwood unt

elt beside him, my own te

I' m not leaving you.

d his illness was the enemy, not him. I loved the man he us

s a brilliant therapist, renowned for her work wi

t soon, things started to change. Declan bega

hifted from

ys I need ab

our visits are s

t her expensive gifts, "for her excellent care," he' d say. He defende

back and watch the explosion with a clinical, detached look in her

r. Declan had walked in, seen Christie crying with a scratch on her arm, and he' d beaten me unconscious. The next thing I kn

om, the memory was so vivid I

is voice grave, pulling me back to the present. "You

ce steady now. "His love

f being a bird in a cage

. "But I need help. Someone Declan

rson who fit that des

ways surpassed, the Phelps family fortune. He and Declan were fierce busin

eptical. "He' s a ghost. Why w

ith a certainty that

clan. He had unearthed every crime, every dirty secret of the Phelps co

diculous sum for a simple bracelet I had donated, a piece my mother had left me. The money had gone to a children's hospital. I later fou

or a decade. I was betting my life, an

rds tasting strange and drastic on my tongue. "It' s the only way t

extremity of my plan finally seemed to make

the front door opening

arling, I'

asn' t alone. I could hear Chris

shing the terror and hate down deep inside. I ha

didn't reach his eyes. Christie was beside him, look

aid, his brow creasing in feigned

dache," I l

e lie without question.

hroat is a bit sore. Could you make her so

ld have argued. I would have pointed out that we had staff for

ng of his hand, the

the woman standing beside him, her eyes gleaming wi

st smiled. A ca

urse, D

ling their eyes on my back. Christie' s gaze

ised. This was j