Betrayed By Blood, Claimed By Fury

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away. After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future. Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me. I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call. "Total genius move," he boasted to friends. His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding. Heartbroken, I feigned belief. I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies. He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency. After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first. He even tried to cut me off financially. How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster? His betrayal poisoned every memory. I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty. His audacity left me reeling. But I wouldn’t be his victim. Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed. I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter. I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.

My wedding to Ethan, the man I’d loved for five years, was weeks away. Everything was set for our future, a beautifully planned life together. Then the call came: Ethan’s high school sweetheart, Chloe, was found with severe amnesia, still believing she was his girlfriend. Ethan postponed our wedding, asked me to pretend to be his brother Liam’s girlfriend, insisting it was "for Chloe’s sake." I endured quiet agony watching him relive their past, his every loving gesture now for her. Chloe’s Instagram became a public shrine to their "rekindled" love, #TrueLove emblazoned everywhere. I even found a groundbreaking clinic for Chloe, hoping for an end, but Ethan brushed it off. Then, I overheard him: I was just a "placeholder," a "good sport" who would wait, because I had "nowhere else to go." Five years of my life, my love, my loyalty, reduced to a disposable convenience. The cold, calculated betrayal punched the air from my lungs. He thought I was trapped, that he could use me at will, then return to me, expecting gratitude. Numb, I stumbled. And then, I met Liam, Ethan’s quiet brother. "I need to get married, Liam. To someone. Soon." The words escaped me. Liam, who had watched silently, responded: "What if I said I'd marry you, Ava? For real." A dangerous, desperate plan ignited within me, fueled by pain and a fierce desire for reckoning. "Alright, Liam," I declared, a new resolve hardening my voice. "But I have conditions: Ethan must be your Best Man, and he must give me away at the altar." The charade was about to begin, but now, it was on my terms. And Ethan had no idea the bride was truly me.

For ten years, Julian Thorne, the Silicon Valley titan, was my world. He came into my life when I was a nobody, busking on the streets, and transformed me into a princess, envied by every woman in the country. He promised me forever, fighting his powerful family to marry me, treating me like the most precious thing in existence. But that fairy tale shattered the moment Bethany Greene entered the picture, and six months was all it took for him to erase a decade of devotion. My husband, once full of warmth, became a stranger who looked at me with cold fury. He accused me of manipulating Bethany into leaving him, spitting "Liar" with disgust. He played a video of my younger brother, Finn, on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn' t convince Bethany to return. "He' s a vegetable that' s costing me a fortune," he said coldly, as I begged him not to. The pain of knowing I might lose Finn, my only family, was unbearable, but the true horror was yet to come. As I pretended to call Bethany, a sharp, cramping pain shot through my abdomen. I was bleeding. "Julian, please… help me," I whispered, terrified, realizing I might be losing our baby. He dismissed it as drama, then his face lit up with a genuine smile when Bethany called his phone. He left without a second glance, instructing the butler to lock me in the meditation room, confident I was just trying to manipulate him. Hours later, alone, bleeding, and pounding on the locked door, I felt the life I was carrying slip away. My baby was gone, lost because the man I loved condemned me. When I woke in a sterile hospital room, Bethany was there, clinging to Julian, fabricating a story about me harassing her parents. He believed her instantly, his eyes cold and unmoved, denying we' d ever had a baby. "Lost what baby? Scarlett, stop making up stories to get attention." He watched impassively as Bethany forced me to apologize for something I hadn' t done, her triumphant smirk a knife to my heart. Then, he dropped the final bombshell, "I'm divorcing you." He even had his lawyer tell me he expected me to wait patiently for him to return after his "fling" with Bethany was over. That was the moment everything snapped into brutal clarity. My love for him, which had endured so much, finally burned to ashes, leaving only a cold, hard resolve. I signed the divorce papers, picked up the plane ticket, and looked him straight in the eye: "I don' t want you to love me anymore. I' m done." And with that, I walked out, leaving Julian and his new obsession behind, ready to disappear and never look back.

I thought I had it all. A brilliant tech genius husband, Ethan Caldwell, a New York penthouse, and a baby on the way. My life felt like a perfect dream. Then Ethan announced a "catastrophic business failure," plunging us into poverty in a cramped Queens apartment. Five years later, working a Gala, I saw him again. A celebrated "miracle benefactor," he presented the very diamond bracelet he'd promised me to Victoria Vanderbilt—the woman he'd secretly always loved. All my sacrifices, Leo's quiet deprivations—they were an elaborate lie. He'd been building an empire for *her*. The betrayal escalated: Ethan demanded Leo be a kidney donor for Victoria's son. Later, Victoria orchestrated a kidnapping, and Ethan, dismissing my desperate pleas, coldly told the abductors to "teach me a lesson" and hung up. How could the man I loved, Leo's father, be such a monstrous, heartless betrayer? His casual disregard for our very lives, his ultimate abandonment during our terror, left me shattered. Was our entire marriage truly just a cruel, convenient sham for him? Watching my son suffer due to his father's depravity, something inside me ignited. Not broken, but fiercely resolved. I would escape his toxic world, protect Leo, and build a real, peaceful life for us, whatever it took. We were leaving. For good.

The anesthesia was a thick fog, but the voices cut through it. "Is she going to be okay?" That was Mark, my boyfriend, a rising musician. "She' ll be fine. She gave you a kidney, Mark, she can handle a little post-op pain." That was Jessica, his new manager. My blood ran cold. A kidney. I' d donated a kidney to save his life, worked three jobs, sold my art, used family connections, all for his dream. Then the words that shattered my world. "She was a good stepping stone, Mark. She got you where you needed to be. But you can' t have a sick, tired artist clinging to you when you' re about to become a star. You need… Jessica' s Lullaby." Jessica's Lullaby. Our lullaby, a deeply personal melody from my childhood that I rewrote just for him. He had given her our song. He didn't just take my kidney, he stole my art, my trust, everything. Even when he came back to the hospital, publicly proposing with cheap roses and a camera crew, it was a sham. Jessica staged an illness, and he abandoned me, rushed to her side, his devotion clear for all to see. The man I loved had betrayed me, not just by stealing my art, but by commodifying my sacrifice, casting me aside as a mere stepping stone. My heart was a hollowed-out cavity. But in that emptiness, a cold, hard rage began to burn. He thought I was just a stepping stone. He was about to find out how wrong he was. I reached for my phone, scrolling for David, the head of a rival record label. "David," I said, my voice raspy but firm. "It' s Sarah. I have a proposition for you."

Kaelyn devoted three years tending to her husband after a terrible accident. But once he was fully recovered, he cast her aside and brought his first love back from abroad. Devastated, Kaelyn decided on a divorce as people mocked her for being discarded. She went on to reinvent herself, becoming a highly sought-after doctor, a champion racer, and an internationally renowned architectural designer. Even then, the traitors sneered in disdain, believing Kaelyn would never find someone. But then the ex-husband’s uncle, a powerful warlord, returned with his army to ask for Kaelyn’s hand in marriage.

"Sign the divorce papers and get out!" Leanna got married to pay a debt, but she was betrayed by her husband and shunned by her in-laws. Seeing that her efforts were in vain, she agreed to divorce and claimed her half of the properties. With her purse plump from the settlement, Leanna enjoyed her newfound freedom. The constant harassment from her ex's mistress never fazed her. She took back her identities as top hacker, champion racer, medical professor, and renowned jewelry designer. Then someone discovered her secret. Matthew smiled. "Will you have me as your next husband?"

Dayna had worshiped her husband, only to watch him strip her late mother's estate and lavish devotion on another woman. After three miserable years, he discarded her, and she lay broken-until Kristopher, the man she once betrayed, dragged her from the wreckage. He now sat in a wheelchair, eyes like tempered steel. She offered a pact: she would mend his legs if he helped crush her ex. He scoffed, yet signed on. As their ruthless alliance caught fire, he uncovered her other lives-healer, hacker, pianist-and her numb heart stirred. But her groveling ex crawled back. "Dayna, you were my wife! How could you marry someone else? Come back!"

“You need a bride, I need a groom. Why don’t we get married?” Both abandoned at the altar, Elyse decided to tie the knot with the disabled stranger from the venue next door. Pitying his state, she vowed to spoil him once they were married. Little did she know that he was actually a powerful tycoon. Jayden thought Elyse only married him for his money, and planned to divorce her when she was no longer of use to him. But after becoming her husband, he was faced with a new dilemma. “She keeps asking for a divorce, but I don’t want that! What should I do?”

Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."

After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."