Chapter 7 I want it

I signed the forms, my final act of defiance against a cruel inheritance. My time was short, a merciless illness stealing my future, just like it had taken my mother and grandmother. So, I had to hurt the man I loved, Ethan, make him despise me, so he wouldn't mourn what he thought he'd lost. I had built a fortress of hatred around myself, shielding him from the truth of my fading life. He became cold, rich, and brought women home, his vengeance a constant reminder of my fabricated betrayal. But his latest paramour, Isabelle, proved to be far more vicious. She found my hidden medical files, uncovering the terminal secret I'd fought so hard to keep. Then, in a fit of cruel jealousy, she caused the accidental death of Leo, our beloved ginger cat, my only comfort and last tangible link to the Ethan I once loved. Isabelle then delivered her brutal ultimatum: "End it quickly, or I'll tell him everything about your illness, about your deception, about how you manipulated him into thinking you only cared for money." She threatened to strip away the bitter peace I was trying to leave him. The choice was excruciating: allow Ethan to grieve a villain, or force him to bear the unbearable truth of my sacrifice and his own unwitting torment during my slow demise. My heart ached with the silent agony of this final cruelty. How could I possibly let him find out the truth? It tore at my soul, but there was only one path left for me to take. So I cooked his favorite meal, whispered a final, hateful lie, and then, in cold earnest, ended my own life, leaving him with the memory of a mercenary wife, sparing him the grief. But death rarely keeps its promises. I awoke, gasping, in a time that shouldn't exist, finding myself on the precipice of a fate I had already lived, a second chance I never asked for, ready to make a different choice.

Elara Vance was ready to do anything for her husband, Ethan. Pregnant but determined, she was on the verge of inducing labor early to donate her kidney-a sacrifice she believed would save his life and secure their family's future. Still hazy from anesthesia, a chilling conversation pierced through the fog. Ethan' s voice, devoid of love, ordered their newborn son to be "discarded." Then, his closest friend, Jake, laughed, chillingly saying, "One kid a year to make her suffer for Chloe, man, that' s brutal!" The truth unfurled like a nightmare: Ethan' s love was a decade-long revenge plot. Chloe? His supposedly deceased fiancée. Every "accident" – two miscarriages, a staged mugging – were calculated attacks. He was never sick. He confessed he' d meticulously destroyed her life, planned to harvest her kidney, perform a hysterectomy, and leave her shamed and barren. The man she loved, the father of her murdered children, was a monster. Every tender touch, every shared dream, a meticulously crafted illusion. The realization hit like a physical blow: her entire life, built on his deceptive love, was a slaughterhouse. How could she have been so blind, so trusting? Paralyzed yet seething, Elara knew she had only one path. She would play his game of devotion, burying her rage deep. She was alive, battered and broken, but not defeated. Elara Vance would escape, and then, she would ensure Ethan Knight paid the ultimate price for his monstrous deception. Her survival was just the beginning of her real revenge.

For fifteen years, my life revolved around Ethan Hayes. I sacrificed everything to follow him to New York, even changing myself because he liked "no-fuss" girls. Our marriage, he said, was just a practical arrangement for his company's IPO. I worked tirelessly as his Director of Operations, always hoping he'd truly see me, love me back. Then Chloe Vance arrived. She swiftly sabotaged my crucial investor presentation, leaking intimate photos, and Ethan publicly blamed me, his wife, to protect her. Hours later, I found Chloe wearing my robe, spraying my perfume, as Ethan laughed and still called me "buddy." The divorce papers he'd given me on our wedding night felt terrifyingly real. The final betrayal came when Chloe forced me to eat a super spicy dinner, knowing my sensitive stomach. Ethan threatened my team's funding if I refused. Doubled over in pain from acute gastritis, I called him, begging for help. He hung up to rush Chloe, who had a twisted ankle, to the ER. Later, after a horrific skiing accident I thought I wouldn't survive, I lay broken in the snow and asked him, "What am I to you?" His chilling reply: "Right now? A liability." Then the clinic confirmed the devastating truth: due to the fall, I had miscarried our child. His child. The man I had loved for fifteen years, the man who coldly abandoned me in my darkest hour, didn't even know. Didn't care. That was the turning point. The delusion shattered. The woman who clung to hope was gone. I signed the divorce papers, not with sorrow, but with profound clarity. My true friend, Liam, was there to pick up the pieces, ready to help me build a new life, finally free.

It was Leo and Lily' s fifth birthday, a bright morning, and my husband Ethan, the real estate mogul, was showering our twins with laughter and kisses. He promised to see me at my parents' that night, his hand tenderly resting on my pregnant belly, blissfully unaware of the horror about to unfold. Hours later, the world shattered. My car was ambushed, my children and I dragged to a remote barn, and then I saw them: Tiffany Monroe, a socialite I vaguely recognized, and... my husband, Ethan, by her side. They stood watching impassively as men brutally beat my twins, Leo and Lily, to death. My twins screamed, fought, and then fell limp, moments before Tiff, with Ethan's cold encouragement, burned me with a cigarillo. Even when I screamed his name, when they ripped my custom locket off, he dismissed me as "trash," declaring his wife "safe" because she had her locket-the very one they'd stolen from me. The final blow came when he ordered a C-section in front of me, taking my unborn child as a "souvenir" for Tiff. How could he not know me? How could the man who promised me forever, the father of my children, casually order my baby carved from me, all because a locket wasn't on my neck? The pain of his betrayal, his utter blindness, was colder than death itself. Yet, as one loyal employee saved me from oblivion, I watched Ethan's horror when he finally saw the truth, confirming he was a monster, not an unwitting participant. It sparked a new life within me, not one of grief, but of ice-cold, calculated revenge. He took everything. Now, I will take his empire, his freedom, and his sanity, piece by agonizing piece.

Ethan Miller, a gritty musician, found himself trapped in a gilded cage, bound to the ruthless music mogul Victoria Vanderbilt. His sister Maya' s life depended on Tori' s whims and VME' s endless resources. He endured years as Tori' s star, her lover, her prized possession, sacrificing his soul for Maya' s critical care. But Tori' s attention, a fleeting and dangerous thing, soon shifted to Julian Vance, a brash performance artist. Ethan's music became "dated," his loyalty dismissed, and VME' s lifeline to Maya was cruelly severed. He watched, helpless, as Julian' s family and their goons ripped Maya' s ventilator away, causing her agonizing death. Tori, witnessing his despair, callously shrugged it off, declaring it "resource reallocation." How could the woman he loved, who once vowed to protect him fiercely, become a monster who facilitated his sister' s demise? His very devotion had been a poisoned gift, leading to the ultimate, unbearable price. In that moment of profound loss and brutal betrayal, Ethan Miller died. He rose from the ashes, now Liam Kincaid, a ghost determined to vanish from Tori' s toxic world, seeking true freedom and peace.

I was Ava Miller, a former foster kid desperate for a fresh start. My new job as companion to the intimidating Mrs. Eleanor Davenport seemed like my escape. But Eleanor had a hidden agenda: she wanted me to 'manage' her powerful grandson, Ethan. Desperate for the promised money, I followed her subtle instructions, which shockingly escalated one night. Pressured to 'help him unwind,' I used a sleeping powder, leading to an encounter I never anticipated, a desperate, morally compromising act. I soon discovered I was pregnant. Eleanor swiftly paid me off, telling me my 'services were no longer required' before Ethan's arranged engagement. I was discarded, used, and heartbroken, forced to flee and struggle raising my son, Leo, alone, far from their opulent world. How could they manipulate me like that? The shame burned, but so did a fierce determination. I vowed Leo and I would never be discarded again. Years later, just as I' d built a peaceful life, fate delivered a stunning twist. I was Ava Sterling, the lost heir to a tech billionaire, now CEO of a global empire, finally independent. But then, Ethan Davenport walked back into my life, his eyes widening as they landed on Leo. He saw his own face in my son and demanded answers. This time, I wouldn't be silent. I would unveil the brutal truth, fight for my son, and for myself.