Obey the Monster, But Let's Revenge

Obey the Monster, But Let's Revenge

Gavin

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My family was crumbling, clinging to the last vestiges of a once-great name. My upcoming marriage to Ethan was supposed to save us, his new money cushioning our fall. But rumors painted Julian Thorne, a reclusive tech billionaire, as a monster who ruined women, and his people chose my beautiful half-sister, Hailey, as his next "companion." Then Ethan, my fiancé, panicked, pulling me into a desperate elopement. In a cheap motel room, he revealed his true plan: I was to pretend we'd been secretly married before Hailey's selection. He needed me as a convenient shield, a deniable wife, so he could keep Hailey, and her potential connection to Thorne, on a string. My stomach churned; this wasn't love, it was a transaction. Back home, my family, desperate to "save" Hailey, demanded I support Ethan's lie, threatening to cut off funding for my cherished art project. They called me "strong" when they wanted me to bear their burdens, to be a doormat. The disgust was a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing I was just a pawn in their cruel, self-serving games. Why was I always the one sacrificed, always the "strong" one meant to suffer in silence? The thought of living Ethan' s fabricated life, a life of quiet humiliation and deceit, suddenly felt infinitely worse than facing any rumored monster. A cold fury rose in me, sharp and clean. I would not be their pawn, their disposable currency. Looking my father dead in the eye, I declared, "If Hailey is too delicate for Mr. Thorne, then I will go in her place." I' d rather face a monster with my eyes open than be a fool' s secret.

Introduction

My family was crumbling, clinging to the last vestiges of a once-great name.

My upcoming marriage to Ethan was supposed to save us, his new money cushioning our fall.

But rumors painted Julian Thorne, a reclusive tech billionaire, as a monster who ruined women, and his people chose my beautiful half-sister, Hailey, as his next "companion."

Then Ethan, my fiancé, panicked, pulling me into a desperate elopement.

In a cheap motel room, he revealed his true plan: I was to pretend we'd been secretly married before Hailey's selection.

He needed me as a convenient shield, a deniable wife, so he could keep Hailey, and her potential connection to Thorne, on a string.

My stomach churned; this wasn't love, it was a transaction.

Back home, my family, desperate to "save" Hailey, demanded I support Ethan's lie, threatening to cut off funding for my cherished art project.

They called me "strong" when they wanted me to bear their burdens, to be a doormat.

The disgust was a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing I was just a pawn in their cruel, self-serving games.

Why was I always the one sacrificed, always the "strong" one meant to suffer in silence?

The thought of living Ethan' s fabricated life, a life of quiet humiliation and deceit, suddenly felt infinitely worse than facing any rumored monster.

A cold fury rose in me, sharp and clean.

I would not be their pawn, their disposable currency.

Looking my father dead in the eye, I declared, "If Hailey is too delicate for Mr. Thorne, then I will go in her place."

I' d rather face a monster with my eyes open than be a fool' s secret.

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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.

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