/1/100041/coverbig.jpg?v=42b1d1cd0d12edf987fa5cd92eaa2dbd)
nd-run. My husband, Haywood, to
ood froze my assets, refusing to
screamed at him. "You want
t stop. He used his power to destroy my career, publicly shame me, and eve
at my mother's grave, confessing to crimes I didn't commit.
. My family, my d
y had broken me.
n a global stream. "My name is Celina Alvarado," I began
pte
ina
humming a lullaby over the phone, the next, a cold voice delivered the news. Hit-and-run. Cemetery at night felt emptier, colder than I ever
fingers brushed against the vintage locket I wore, cool metal against my skin. It was hers. She gave it to me on my last birth
rper, something harder. It was a need for justice. They said it was an accident. They said the police were inve
s an armor against the crushing weight of sorrow. I would find who did this
drop this," he said, his voice flat, devoid of warmth. We were in his opulent study, surrounded by dark wood and leather, a r
I looked at him, searching for even a flicker of empat
ard, his expensive suit jacket creasing. "You're making a s
Hit and run! You want me to just... forget that?" The
dear to you, I understand. But these things happen. Pursu
otesting. "What is wrong with you? My
becoming dangerously low. "Celina, listen to me. I
know? Who?" A name formed on my
For your career. For everything you hold dear." His gaze drilled into me, unwavering, chilling. He mentioned
d. This was a stranger, a predator. "Why, Haywood? Why are yo
s complicated. And you, Celina,
e man who promised to cherish me, was protecting the person who took my mother'
ears streaming down my face. "My mother
clouding your judgment. Think about what you're doi
the grief. If he wouldn't help me, if he would actively obstruct me,
e steady despite the tremor in my hands. "I
with a dangerous fury. "You think you can d
burning certainty. I would pursue justice. Even if it me
tion, and the case was being deprioritized. My once-promising career as a news anchor started to unravel as lucrative
ismissed lawyer, every blocked call, every cancelled deal. I bo
man who still answered my calls, looked at me with pity. "Celina, are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice
rvingly calm. "He always does, as long as
t. Free to breathe. And to fight,
ppear in my bedroom, in my shower, in the places where I felt safest. Then the spiders grew. Bigger. Hairier. Each night, I would wake up screaming, dr
"You still haven't learned, have you?" he sneered, his voice a low growl. He was hol
it, a raw cry tearing from my
le playing on his lips. "This? This sentimen
"Never," I spat, tea
e delicate silver bending, the tiny picture of my mother tearing. He threw th. The next morning, a bruised and battered Haywood arrived home, claiming he had been jumped. He
true hor
iled threats, when a black van screeched to a halt beside me. Rough han
mildew and fear. My wrists were bound tightly to a rusty pipe. A figure emerged from the s
. He took a step closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate drum against inevi
screamed, thrashing against my bindings, but the sound was swallowed by the thick walls.
not be h
er of metal. With desperate, raw strength, I began to saw at the ropes. The pain was excruciating, bu
feel the thin fabric of my shirt tear. Just as his lips brushed my neck, the rope snapped. I roared, a pri
grimy window high above. It was my only chance. I grabbed a loose wooden plank, its edge splint
pulled myself through the jagged opening, ignoring the fresh cuts on my skin. I landed hard on the damp ground outside, tasting blood and dirt. I ran. Ran until my
His voice was laced with a terrifying calm. "Celina. We need to talk. About yo
, a shovel leaning innocently against a nearby headstone. Anika Tran was there too, clinging
s voice flat, emotionless. "That you lured him, then attacked him.
"He kidnapped me. He assaulted me!" My wrist
. That you seduced Keith. That you attacked him. That you made it all up." He pointed to a
cking. "I won't lie! I won't d
I'll dig her up, Celina. Right now. And
r. No. Not her. I would do anything to
me from a monitor. The comments section exploded, a torrent of hatred. "Slut!" "Whore!" "Desperate
my mouth. "I fabricated the assault... I regret... everything." The lie
gagging. The weight of the world pressed down on me.
dal trended globally. My career was over. My name synonymous with depravity. My
ord, in the most twisted way possible. But I hadn't protected her. I had sacrificed
n. But as the last drops hit my face, a cold, unwavering resolve settled deep within me. They thought they had won. Th
voice raspy but firm. "Absolutely, irrevocably done." The
shb
lder, sharper eyes. I was a rising news anchor, trying to make a name for myself. We talked, laughed, and the
g scent of his cologne. I remembered feeling cared for, desired. Then, a sudde
er of surprise, then something else-recognition? No, not recognition. Acceptance.
ight... I had too much to drink." He paused, his ey
was genuine. His words felt like a lifeline. He promised me a life of
occasional kindnesses were signs of affection. But then I found it. Hidden in a locked drawer in his study. A framed photograph. A wo
ute. A replacement. A stand-in for the woman he truly loved, the woman he had
being dramatic," he said, his voice flat. "Ava is gon
e'd sneer, even though I had my own career. "You're so transparent. Just like all the others." He somehow twisted every innocent action, eve
I love you!" I would plea
s. "Love? You don't know the meaning of the word." He refused to
he liked, listened to his endless work stories. I tried to be the perfect wife, hoping to earn his affection, hoping to make him se
cent eyes. Haywood, who had been cold and distant with me, suddenly bloomed. He lavished attention on her, bought her expensive g
ff. She made a catastrophic financial error at the company, costing millions, and Haywood not only forgave her but
. Emergency surgery. It was expensive, far more than my depleted savings coul
I swallowed it, walking into Haywood's study, my heart poundin
e trembling. "My father... he
amber liquid swirling in his han
unds have been frozen. I
? You always seem to manage fine on your own." He turned to Anika, who giggled, then
lina. I'm so sorry. The company's budget is very tight r
n them, Haywood!" I erupted, the control I had so carefully mainta
because you waited too long, not because of any financial constraints from my end." Hi
He meant it. He would let my father die out of spi
hisper. "Please, Anika. My father... h
just sell some of those expensive watches you always wear? Or your jewelry? You always loved money more th
ace, pale and weak, flashed before my eyes. I had to. I knelt, my knees hitting the cold marble floor. "Please,"
So desperate for money, even for her own family." She turned to me, her eyes glittering. "Tell
curried away, avoiding our gaze, but their presence was a silent testament to my public degradati
ut a few crisp hundred-dollar bills from her purse, barely enough for a single night at the hospital
um. "You promised... you said you would help!
y struggling, you know. Not like you, with your lavish lifestyle." She gestured to the diamond bracelet on her wris
e, to fight, but as I did, Anika "tripped." Her hand, with the diamond bracelet glinting, connected sha
ka wailed, her voice surprisingl
ips of granite. "Celina! What have you don
ering from my numb fingers. My father. My dignity. Every
oice low and menacing. "Get out o
eart a frozen stone in my chest. T
ther. He didn't make it. He had coded during the night.
l, mirroring the torrent of tears that finally broke free. My father. D
ooked grim. "Ms. Alvarado, we have an update on your mother's cas
The connection clicked into place, a horrifying, si
I buried my father's meager belongings, the simple, worn locket, now bent and broken, felt like a
en me. They were wrong. Th
irst step was to file the divorce papers. The second, to ensure Keith Tran face

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