From Jilted Bride To Ruthless CEO

From Jilted Bride To Ruthless CEO

Gavin

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I was Jocelyn Cruz, heiress to a billion-dollar empire, and I was supposed to marry my childhood sweetheart, Jake. My father had groomed him to be my king, and our life was a storybook romance. But just before my 25th birthday gala, I saw him kissing Djuna-the fragile orphan my father took in, the woman I treated like a sister. Their betrayal ran deeper than I could imagine. They drugged me to cause a riding accident, then gaslit me to make me think I was losing my mind. At a public auction, Jake froze my accounts and bought a family heirloom I cherished, only to gift it to her in front of everyone, leaving me broken and humiliated. He wanted to shatter me, to turn me into a mindless puppet he could control. So when he played a secret video of me crying for him at my own birthday party, I didn't break. Instead, I smiled. Because I had my own recordings, and I was about to show everyone the vipers he and his "true love" really were.

Chapter 1

I was Jocelyn Cruz, heiress to a billion-dollar empire, and I was supposed to marry my childhood sweetheart, Jake. My father had groomed him to be my king, and our life was a storybook romance.

But just before my 25th birthday gala, I saw him kissing Djuna-the fragile orphan my father took in, the woman I treated like a sister.

Their betrayal ran deeper than I could imagine. They drugged me to cause a riding accident, then gaslit me to make me think I was losing my mind. At a public auction, Jake froze my accounts and bought a family heirloom I cherished, only to gift it to her in front of everyone, leaving me broken and humiliated.

He wanted to shatter me, to turn me into a mindless puppet he could control.

So when he played a secret video of me crying for him at my own birthday party, I didn't break. Instead, I smiled. Because I had my own recordings, and I was about to show everyone the vipers he and his "true love" really were.

Chapter 1

I watched him, the man I was supposed to marry, kiss another woman, and in that brutal instant, my world shattered into a million irreparable pieces. It was a truth delivered with the cold precision of a surgeon's blade, leaving my heart to bleed out, unnoticed by the very person who had sworn to cherish it.

I stood there, overlooking the sprawling estate, the heart of Cruz Holdings, which would one day be mine. My twenty-fifth birthday gala was just weeks away. The air hummed with the promise of a future I had always envisioned – a life intertwined with Jake Delaney, my fiancé, my childhood sweetheart, the man my father had mentored to stand beside me.

My father, Clifford Cruz, was a stern man. His face, etched with the responsibilities of a multi-billion-dollar empire, rarely showed softness. But for me, his only daughter, it softened. He saw in Jake the successor he believed I deserved, a brilliant orphan he had raised alongside me. A man he trusted to secure my future.

Everyone whispered about us. "Jocelyn and Jake." It was a phrase synonymous with destiny, with power, with a love story straight out of a classic novel. My father had built a dynasty, and Jake was meant to be the king at my side.

I felt Jake's presence before I saw him. The familiar warmth, the subtle shift in the air that always preceded him. He walked into the study, his hand reaching for mine. His touch sent a shiver through me, a shiver I used to interpret as love. Now, it felt like a warning.

I leaned in, expecting the comforting scent of his favorite cologne, the one I had chosen for him years ago. It was a crisp, almost metallic fragrance, always clean, always his. It was the scent of safety, of home.

This time, something was off. A cloying sweetness, like jasmine mingled with something musky and cheap, clung to him. It wasn't his. It couldn't be. My stomach turned.

"Whose perfume is that, Jake?" My voice was colder than I intended. It surprised even me, the flat, devoid-of-emotion tone.

He pulled back his hand, his brow furrowed in a practiced show of confusion. "Perfume? What are you talking about, Jocelyn? I just came from a meeting with Anthoney. Maybe it's his wife's, or something from the office."

His words were smooth, a well-rehearsed lie. But the scent, it lingered. It was too close, too intimate to be an accidental brush-off. It was the scent of a prolonged embrace, a shared moment I was not a part of. My senses screamed betrayal.

A tension settled between us, thick and suffocating. He must have felt it too.

"I need to go back for some documents," he said, his eyes darting away. "I'll see you at dinner." He turned, his movements stiff.

"No," I thought. "Not tonight." I watched him leave, a cold resolve hardening my spine. I knew this estate like the back of my hand. I knew its secret passages, its hidden routes. And I knew which way he would go.

I moved with silent purpose, my every step calculated. My training, the years of learning to navigate the shadows of the Cruz empire, now served a purpose I never imagined. I slipped through a concealed door, down a dusty service corridor, and emerged near the staff quarters.

And then I saw it. The image that would forever be burned into my memory, scorching away every tender feeling I ever held for him.

Jake, my Jake, pressed against the wall of a secluded alcove. His lips were on hers, his hands tangled in her long, dark hair. Djuna Stein. The fragile, innocent orphan my father had taken in after Jake. The woman everyone believed was like a sister to us.

Her head was thrown back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his kiss deepened. Her hands were on his chest, not pushing him away, but pulling him closer. The sweet, musky perfume I had smelled on Jake now enveloped her. It was her scent. Her lie. Her betrayal.

My world didn't just shatter; it imploded. The air was sucked from my lungs. My vision blurred, tears stinging my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not for them.

I turned away, the image seared behind my eyelids. I walked, one foot in front of the other, through the opulent halls of my home, now a mausoleum of broken dreams.

I found my father in his private office, the heart of Cruz Holdings, where all major decisions were made. He looked up, surprised to see me.

"Jocelyn? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." He saw the cold resolve in my eyes, the tremor in my hands.

"Father," I said, my voice steady despite the earthquake raging inside me. "Cancel the gala. Cancel the engagement."

His eyes widened. "What? Jocelyn, what are you talking about? The merger with the Zamoras depends on this. Our family legacy hangs in the balance."

"Then there will be a merger," I said, my gaze unwavering. "Just not with Jake. I will marry Ernesto Zamora."

My father stared at me, his face a mask of shock. "Ernesto Zamora? The Blackstone heir? Jocelyn, you can't be serious. What about Jake? What about everything we planned?"

"Jake," I spat his name like a curse, "is a snake. And everything we planned was a lie." A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "He's been lying to you, Father. Lying to me. Lying to himself."

My mind raced, connecting the dots. The subtle shifts in Jake's attention, the way Djuna always seemed to be around, her feigned helplessness drawing male attention. I had brushed it off as sibling affection, as her being "fragile." But it was all a performance.

Jocelyn, you're so naive. He's always been hers. I heard the echo of a sneering voice, a voice from the inner circle, a voice I had dismissed as jealousy.

Such a pity. The heiress, always so busy with her studies, her charities. While Djuna... she knows how to keep him interested. Another voice, dripping with contempt.

The pieces clicked into place, forming a grotesque mosaic of betrayal. They had been laughing at me, all of them. Jake, Djuna, his circle of so-called "brothers." They saw me as the pampered, oblivious princess, too absorbed in my own world to see the rot beneath.

Jake, the ambitious orphan, always feeling he had something to prove. Djuna, the manipulative victim, clinging to him like a vine. They weren't just lovers; they were co-conspirators. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was a pawn in their game, a means to an end. My end.

He didn't just love Djuna. He was trapped in a toxic, codependent web with her, a perverse sense of "family" forged in their shared orphan past. And I? I was the prize to be won, the ultimate stepping stone to power.

No. Not anymore. My heart was dead. But my mind was clearer than it had ever been.

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