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Reborn To Ruin Them

Reborn To Ruin Them

Gavin

5.0
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11
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I died at eighty-nine. Not in peace, but after decades trapped in my own paralyzed body. A car accident had turned me into a "vegetable," or so my husband, Mark, conveniently told everyone. He then reaped a massive disability settlement from my "condition"-enough to fund his entire lifetime. My lifetime, however, was spent trapped, agonizingly aware of every whispered conversation, every stolen dollar, every moment they thought I was gone. Mark, his kids Jessica and Kevin, even his ex-wife Brenda-they all saw me as nothing more than a lucrative shell. They feasted on my money. He'd fabricated a marriage certificate and coerced his doctor cousin to lie about my infertility and exaggerate my paralysis for a bigger payout. I watched, helpless, as Jessica manipulated my "care" to ensure the cash flow, and Kevin blamed me for all his failures. For decades, I endured this living hell, a silent scream trapped within. The sheer injustice of their monstrous betrayal festered, turning my soul into a crucible of rage. Why was I forced to endure such vile exploitation, unable to fight back? Then, darkness. And then, light. I was back. Younger, whole, sitting in a vibrant garden, enveloped by party noise. Every agonizing memory of their avarice and the hell they put me through was crystal clear. This time, their greed wouldn't just be their undoing-I would ensure it.

Introduction

I died at eighty-nine. Not in peace, but after decades trapped in my own paralyzed body. A car accident had turned me into a "vegetable," or so my husband, Mark, conveniently told everyone.

He then reaped a massive disability settlement from my "condition"-enough to fund his entire lifetime.

My lifetime, however, was spent trapped, agonizingly aware of every whispered conversation, every stolen dollar, every moment they thought I was gone.

Mark, his kids Jessica and Kevin, even his ex-wife Brenda-they all saw me as nothing more than a lucrative shell.

They feasted on my money. He'd fabricated a marriage certificate and coerced his doctor cousin to lie about my infertility and exaggerate my paralysis for a bigger payout.

I watched, helpless, as Jessica manipulated my "care" to ensure the cash flow, and Kevin blamed me for all his failures.

For decades, I endured this living hell, a silent scream trapped within. The sheer injustice of their monstrous betrayal festered, turning my soul into a crucible of rage. Why was I forced to endure such vile exploitation, unable to fight back?

Then, darkness. And then, light. I was back. Younger, whole, sitting in a vibrant garden, enveloped by party noise. Every agonizing memory of their avarice and the hell they put me through was crystal clear.

This time, their greed wouldn't just be their undoing-I would ensure it.

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When Revenge Kills, Love Prevails

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My crystal glass felt cold, a stark contrast to the stifling ballroom where hundreds of people laughed around me. Then I saw her, Scarlett Hayes, the city' s richest heiress, moving directly towards me, her cruel smile widening. She publicly humiliated me, reminding everyone how her family funded my mother' s medical bills and my education. She' d always made it clear what I was: her servant, her puppet. I was nothing more than a stand-in, a substitute for Liam, her obsessed-over step-brother. The constant abuse, the public shaming – it was all her game. But then my phone rang. It was the hospital. "Mr. Miller?" a nurse' s voice said, urgent. "It' s your mother." A cold dread washed over me. I raced to the hospital, but it was too late. My mother was gone. The payment for her emergency medication had been canceled, that very afternoon. By Scarlett. She had done this. Her petty revenge had cost my mother her life. The grief was a physical blow, but beneath it, something else simmered. The deal was broken. I had nothing left to lose. I walked back to her mansion, left her key and her credit card on the table. "My mother is dead," I said, my voice flat. "Well, that' s not my problem," she retorted. "No," I said, looking her directly in the eye for the first time without fear. "It' s not. Not anymore." I turned and walked out, leaving my life as her puppet behind. For the first time in a year, I felt like I could breathe. I was free. Or so I thought.

When Loyalty Turns to Greed

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The promotion came with a dream office, a Seattle skyline view, and a salary that made my eyes water. But it also came with Mrs. Jenkins, my personal assistant of five years, and the difficult conversation I had to have with her. When I told her I was relocating and she' d have three months' severance, her warm smile froze. "A recommendation and severance won' t be enough, Sarah," she declared, her voice flat, demanding a lifetime pension or my multi-million dollar condo. I laughed, thinking it was a joke, but her dead-serious expression sent a chill down my spine. She then morphed into a full-blown manipulator, blaming me for "ruining" her life and threatening to spread rumors in our tight-knit community. The fight escalated from extortion to outright betrayal when her daughter, Emily, aided by a supposedly incarcerated ex-cop, illegally occupied my condo with a forged lease. The police, thanks to the corrupt officer' s connections, shockingly classified it as a civil matter. I felt outrage and disbelief that I was being targeted and dismissed, my property snatched by a family I had once trusted. The unsettling truth hit me when I saw the "jailed" ex-cop, Kevin, laughing with Mrs. Jenkins and Emily in front of a real estate office, overhearing their plot to forge documents and steal my condo outright. My rage turned to icy resolve; they had underestimated me. I immediately contacted the FBI' s Public Corruption Unit, armed with concrete proof of their conspiracy, knowing this was no longer a petty dispute but a federal crime. My decision to fight back was made.

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