Betrayed Bride: His Cruelest Debt

My wedding to the brilliant surgeon, Dr. Kason Ortiz, was postponed again. For the fifth time. This time, it was a car accident, a suspicious one, just like all the others.

Then, I overheard Kason and his ambitious resident, Jaye Hinton, talking. The "accidents" weren't accidents at all; they were meticulously planned acts of sabotage by Kason to avoid marrying me.

He was doing it to repay a debt: his father's debt to mine, who took the fall for his family's legal scandal. Kason, the man I loved, was systematically hurting me, hoping I'd break and call off the wedding myself.

The betrayal cut deeper than any physical injury. My father, who sacrificed his freedom for the Ortiz family, had unknowingly bound me to my tormentor. Kason even used my father's life as leverage, leading to his death in prison.

He then allowed Jaye to "accidentally" destroy my father's ashes and deliberately damage my vocal cords during surgery, leaving me voiceless and broken.

Why was he so cruel? Why did he hate me so much? What kind of man would destroy everything I held dear just to escape an obligation?

But I wouldn't be his victim. I would not be his debt. I would be free.

Chapter 1

The wedding between me and the brilliant surgeon, Dr. Kason Ortiz, was postponed again. For the fifth time. This time, it was a car accident. A suspicious one, just like all the others.

I lay in the sterile white hospital bed, the scent of antiseptic filling my nose. My left leg was in a cast, a dull, throbbing pain radiating from the freshly set bone. It was a clean break, they said. Lucky.

Lucky was a strange word for it.

The doctors and nurses fluttered around me, their voices a low murmur. They were all Kason' s colleagues. They treated me with a gentle, pitying respect. The fiancée of the great Dr. Ortiz.

I tried to sit up, a sharp pain shooting up my spine. My body was a roadmap of clumsy accidents. A fall down the stairs a month before our first wedding date. A kitchen fire that burned my hands just before the second. Food poisoning before the third. A boating mishap before the fourth.

And now this. A car that swerved into my lane on a clear, dry day.

Each time, Kason was the perfect, concerned fiancé. He would rush to my side, his handsome face tight with worry. He would oversee my care, his touch professional and cool. He never seemed to resent the delays. He would just calmly reschedule everything, his voice a soothing balm.

"We have a lifetime, Alicia," he'd say. "Your health is what matters."

I believed him. I loved him so much that his concern was all I saw.

My fingers ached to hold my guitar. I was an indie singer, a songwriter. My music was my life, second only to Kason. But my hands were still stiff from the burns, and now my leg was useless.

I needed some air. The room felt suffocating. I managed to get myself into a wheelchair and pushed myself out into the quiet hallway. It was late, and the corridor was mostly empty, lit by the cold, fluorescent lights.

I rolled past the nurses' station, heading towards a small balcony at the end of the hall. As I neared Kason' s office, I heard voices from inside. The door was slightly ajar.

"You can't be serious, Kason. Another accident?" The voice was light, musical, but laced with an undeniable edge. I recognized it. Dr. Jaye Hinton, Kason' s ambitious resident.

"It's handled," Kason's voice was low, devoid of the warmth he used with me. It was flat and cold.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I stopped the wheelchair, hiding in the shadows of an alcove.

"Handled? She has a broken leg. The wedding will be postponed for months," Jaye sounded impatient. "How much longer are you going to keep this up?"

My breath caught in my throat. What were they talking about?

"As long as it takes," Kason said. He sounded tired. Bored, even.

"What is so special about her anyway?" Jaye' s voice dripped with disdain. "Why do you have to marry this fragile, accident-prone singer?"

There was a long pause. I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"It' s a debt," Kason finally said, his voice heavy with resentment. "My father' s debt. Her father took the fall for him, a legal scandal that would have ruined our family. He' s rotting in prison so my father could walk free. This marriage is the payment."

The world tilted. The words didn't make sense. A debt? Payment?

"So you don't love her?" Jaye' s voice was soft now, seductive.

"Love her?" Kason let out a short, bitter laugh that cut me deeper than any physical injury. "Jaye, you know who I love."

My vision blurred. The pain in my leg was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest. It was hard to breathe.

"Then why go through with this farce?" Jaye pressed.

"My father is a man of honor. He insists. And the Poole family has nothing. He thinks this is the only way to take care of her, to repay the favor."

"So you'll just keep... arranging these little incidents until she gives up? Or until your father dies?"

"Something like that," he said, his tone casual.

The pieces slammed together in my mind, a horrifying mosaic of calculated cruelty. The fall. The fire. The sickness. The boat. The car. It wasn't bad luck. It was him. It was Kason.

Every rescheduled wedding, every expression of concern, every gentle touch was a lie. A performance.

He didn't love me. He resented me. He was hurting me, over and over, just to avoid marrying me.

A tear slid down my cheek, hot and stinging. It was followed by another, and another, until they were flowing freely. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob, the movement sending a jolt of agony through my body. I escaped, pushing the wheels of my chair with frantic, clumsy movements, not caring where I was going. My flight was a blur of white walls and humming lights.

He didn't love me. He loved Jaye Hinton.

My father. My dear, honorable father, who sacrificed his life and freedom for a man he called his friend. He did it so I would be taken care of. He thought the Ortiz family would protect me.

Instead, his sacrifice had bound me to my tormentor.

I had believed our love was a fairy tale born from a family friendship. I thought Kason, the brilliant, sought-after surgeon, had genuinely fallen for me, the quiet songwriter. It was a lie. My entire world, the foundation of my happiness, was a lie.

The pain in my leg flared, sharp and intense, mirroring the agony ripping through my heart. My rare neurological condition meant I felt pain more acutely than others. Kason knew this. He knew exactly how much I suffered.

I finally made it back to my room, my body trembling. Just as I was pulling myself back into bed, the door opened.

It was Kason.

He had a tray with a syringe and medication. He was here to change my dressing.

"Alicia," he said, his voice laced with that fake concern that now made my stomach turn. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

I stared at him, my eyes probably red and swollen, but he didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he didn't care.

"It hurts," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

"I know. I'm going to give you a painkiller and change the dressing. You'll feel better."

He prepared the injection. He knew my condition. He knew he was supposed to use a local anesthetic before touching the wound. It was standard procedure for me.

His phone buzzed on the tray. He glanced at it. A small, genuine smile touched his lips. A smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years. It was a message from Jaye. I didn't need to see the screen to know.

He was wearing a keychain on his belt loop. A simple leather cord with a small, hand-carved wooden bird. I had made it for him for our first anniversary. He' d looked at it with polite indifference and thrown it in a drawer.

But now, dangling right next to it, was a shiny, silver 'J'.

My heart, which I thought couldn't break any further, fractured into a million more pieces. He was so careless with my heart, yet so blatant with his betrayal.

He picked up the gauze, his eyes still soft from Jaye's message. He swabbed the area around my wound, his touch rough, distracted.

He didn't pick up the anesthetic.

He was going to do it without numbing the area.

The first touch of the antiseptic on the raw skin was fire. A scream built in my throat, but I choked it down.

"Kason," I gasped, my nails digging into the bedsheets. "The anesthetic."

"It's okay, it'll just be a second," he murmured, his focus elsewhere. He was probably thinking about Jaye. About how he would meet her after he was done with his "duty."

He peeled back the old dressing. The pain was blinding. It was a white-hot, searing agony that consumed me. My body arched off the bed, a strangled cry escaping my lips.

"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Kason, it hurts. Please stop."

"Almost done, Alicia. Be brave." His voice was distant, impatient.

He worked quickly, efficiently, like a mechanic fixing a machine. Not like a doctor treating a patient. Not like a man caring for his fiancée.

He finished, taping the new dressing down with sharp, precise movements. Then he stood up, grabbing his phone.

"I have to go check on another patient," he said, not meeting my eyes. "Get some rest."

He was gone before I could say another word. He was rushing to her. The thought was another stab of pain.

I lay there, trembling, sweat beading on my forehead. The physical pain was immense, but the emotional agony was a black hole, swallowing everything.

I finally understood. He wasn't just trying to postpone the wedding. He was punishing me for existing. For being the chain that bound him.

Silent tears tracked paths through the sweat and grime on my face. My body, broken and battered, finally gave up. The darkness at the edge of my vision closed in, and I fell into unconsciousness.