His Cruel Game, Her Perfect Escape
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inally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was
dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the p
nning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "trag
writing the final
ape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain
pte
n Andr
day I found out my entire marriage was a spectator spo
of us. I bought the expensive candles, the ones that smelled like sandalwood and rain. I eve
rtment, a space that always felt more like Alex' s showroom than our home. I smoothed
flutter of hope, a fragile belief that maybe we had finally turned a corner. That the man I had reconciled with,
as l
o the rhythm of multi-billion-dollar deals and global market shifts. I
e marble kitchen island, pinged. A notification lit up the dark scree
r the glass. My heart didn't sink. It didn't drop.
screen. The laptop wasn't password-protected. Alex n
disguised as wit. The participants were Alex, his lover Cha
ng? God, the patience on that
standing over her burnt chicken, face full of
s anniversary present first. Don't worry, I' ll
hing emojis foll
that followed that suck
n event? Did you get the n
you tonight at your party. It's time ev
e one Alex' s grandmother, the formidable matriarch Eleanor Bradley, had refused to give me, even on our f
ronation. And my romantic dinner, our annivers
, hasn' t it? I have to hand it to you, Alex. The long con. Bringing her back just to tear her down
rred. A year.
ul apologies, his promises of change, his relentless pursuit after our separatio
r Charlotte's amusement. Revenge for a minor social scandal I had inadvertently caused yea
er. My pain was
it all became a grotesque parody. I looked around the pristine apartment, at the life I though
and sharper than grief, began to crystal
how? They wante
ould give
nds steady. I opened a secure browser and typed in a name I had seen once on a dark corner of the i
t form appeared
, professional voice an
can we help y
" I said, my voice eerily
er end, then, "We can arrang
get it. I knew all of Alex's financial weak spots, th
beautiful, custom-made piece, a gift from me to him, with my own artwork decorating e
ree months from now
My heart leaped into my throat, but I forced it back down. I shoved his
d a bottle of champagne in the other. He smiled, his perfect, chari
that used to make my knees weak. He wrapped his free arm around
he false warmth of his body one last time. It fe
e murmured into my hair.
e looked at me with such adoration, such tenderness. A year ago, I
erate pleas were born of love. He had pursued me for six months after our first split, a relentless campai
a tragedy, and I was the only
a smile. "I was just ge
to the red circle. "What's this? Another special day I
le widening just a fraction. "It's a surprise,
ace. He loved surprises, as long as he was t
that tasted of lies. He stroked my cheek, his thumb
ked, his brow furrow
he word a bitter pill on my ton
handsome, utterly empty smil
ing in the silent apartment, I felt a profound, chilling certainty