Not Their Ava: A Twisted Heir

Not Their Ava: A Twisted Heir

Clara Bennett

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My life began as a cold calculation: I was the Hamiltons' lab-grown spare, destined for my sick sister Clara. I ran at five, a worn silver locket clutched tight, but freedom turned into a nightmare with traffickers and an abusive woman who called me "Trash." My only true friend, the real Ava Hamilton, died in my arms during our first desperate escape attempt. "Make them pay," she whispered, her last breath a promise that tattooed itself onto my soul. Years later, a sleek black car arrived in the dusty desert. The Hamiltons were desperate, seeking their "missing Ava" for a now critically ill Clara. Brenda, my cruel captor, tried to pawn off her own daughter as the long-lost girl, a pathetic farce. I watched, every insult and beatings igniting a cold fury within me. They still didn't understand the depths of their depravity, the ledger of crimes I remembered, the life they' d stolen. They needed "Ava," and I would gladly step into that role. I offered them the locket, the subtle details only the real Ava would know, and watched their desperate hope ignite. They walked me into their gleaming hospital, believing they had found their perfect, compliant donor. They had no idea they had just welcomed their reckoning. This wasn't about being saved; it was about tearing down an empire, piece by agonizing piece, for Ava.

Introduction

My life began as a cold calculation: I was the Hamiltons' lab-grown spare, destined for my sick sister Clara.

I ran at five, a worn silver locket clutched tight, but freedom turned into a nightmare with traffickers and an abusive woman who called me "Trash."

My only true friend, the real Ava Hamilton, died in my arms during our first desperate escape attempt.

"Make them pay," she whispered, her last breath a promise that tattooed itself onto my soul.

Years later, a sleek black car arrived in the dusty desert.

The Hamiltons were desperate, seeking their "missing Ava" for a now critically ill Clara.

Brenda, my cruel captor, tried to pawn off her own daughter as the long-lost girl, a pathetic farce.

I watched, every insult and beatings igniting a cold fury within me.

They still didn't understand the depths of their depravity, the ledger of crimes I remembered, the life they' d stolen.

They needed "Ava," and I would gladly step into that role.

I offered them the locket, the subtle details only the real Ava would know, and watched their desperate hope ignite.

They walked me into their gleaming hospital, believing they had found their perfect, compliant donor.

They had no idea they had just welcomed their reckoning.

This wasn't about being saved; it was about tearing down an empire, piece by agonizing piece, for Ava.

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The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

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I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Stolen Life, Broken Heart

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My name is Ryan Thorne. I was sitting on the cold hospital floor, cradling my son Leo' s lifeless body. He was gone. Killed by a monstrous "therapy" in a sensory deprivation tank. His wide, terrified eyes stared blankly, a permanent mask of horror. On the TV screen, my ex-fiancée, Sophia Hayes, was marrying a man who looked exactly like me: Ryan Thorne. But he wasn't me. He was the imposter, the man Sophia told me was my brother. A searing pain shot through my head, not from the forgotten car crash, but from memories flooding back. My name isn't Ethan Miller. It's Ryan Thorne. The real Ryan Thorne. The man on that screen had stolen my name, my face, my entire life. Five years ago, after the crash, Sophia convinced me I was "Ethan Miller," an architect who needed a kidney. She pointed to the imposter, my long-lost brother, a perfect match for my supposed kidney failure. I gave him my kidney, my identity, my inheritance. Everything. Leo, my sweet, sensitive boy, was the only real thing in that fabricated life. He overheard Sophia and the imposter laughing about their cruel deception. The man he adored wasn't his father. Shattered, Leo collapsed. Sophia, knowing his claustrophobia, locked him in the tank for "therapy." "Dad help. Scared. Dark." His last text. I found Sophia outside, watching her clock. "My son shouldn't be weak and afraid. He needs to get over his issues. Besides, how could therapy kill anyone?" she'd said. I broke in, but it was too late. Leo was gone. Now, as I held him, the full truth crashed down. "Mom," I said, dialing a number I hadn't called in five years. "It's Ryan." "I remember everything," I continued, my gaze fixed on the laughing faces on the TV. "It's time for me to leave." They took my life. They took my son. I would take it all back.

Chloe’s Game: No More Mr. Nice

Chloe’s Game: No More Mr. Nice

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The air in my workshop crackled with the hum of servers, a frantic race against a deadline for the National Tech Innovator' s Competition. My revolutionary AI was finally ready, my fingers flying across the keyboard, when my older brother Ethan walked in, his smile perfect and camera-ready. He handed me an energy drink, "A little something for good luck," he said, his voice smooth as silk. But as my fingers brushed the can, a glitched red warning flashed on my monitor: "WARNING: Item contains a bio-tech neuro-inhibitor. Target: Chloe." My heart hammered. Before I could process it, my childhood friend, Liam, arrived with a delicate charm bracelet and another warning: "WARNING: Item is a remote data-theft device… Recipient: Sarah." Sarah. My biggest rival. The pieces clicked into place: it was a plan to steal my mind and my work for her. Before I could react, Brenda, the school bully, burst in, demanding money. A cold, sharp idea formed in my mind. I gave Brenda the sabotaged drink and bracelet. Ethan' s perfect smile vanished, replaced by fury, as he hissed, "You' d rather give it to her than accept my help?" Liam, playing the peacemaker, tried to push another bracelet on me, another link in their chain. The fear was gone, replaced by something harder. I looked at their deceptive faces, my brother and my best friend, united against me. "No, thank you, Liam," I said, my voice clear and void of emotion, meeting Ethan' s furious gaze. This wasn' t a surrender. Their game was over. Mine was just beginning.

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"Let's get married," Mia declares, her voice trembling despite her defiant gaze into Stefan's guarded brown eyes. She needs this, even if he seems untouchable. Stefan raises a skeptical brow. "And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. "Shitty fathers. They want to take what's ours and give it to who they think deserves it." A pointed pause hangs in the air. "The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they won't see coming." She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine. "Our fathers stole our birthrights. The sole reason they betrayed us. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs." A beat of silence. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance. "No divorces. No surrenders. If we're doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit. ................ Two shattered heirs. One deadly vow. A marriage built on revenge. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire (so she thought), until he named his bastard son heir instead. Stefan Sterling knows the sting of betrayal too. His father discarded him like trash. Now the rivals' disgraced children have a poisonous proposal: Marry for vengeance. Crush their fathers' legacies. Never speak of divorce. Whoever cracks first loses everything. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs? Or will their fathers' animosity, and their own complicated pasts tear their fragile alliance apart?

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