The Dying Man's Legacy

The Dying Man's Legacy

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
52
View
11
Chapters

The steel door of the "behavioral correction facility" clanged shut, freeing me after five years of unspeakable torment. I returned to my grand New England mansion, my face a roadmap of scars, my body wracked by a terminal illness. Yet, my mother, Eleanor, and my wife, Olivia, greeted me not with solace, but with cold accusation, immediately blaming me for my younger brother Jake' s fabricated trauma. Olivia chillingly presented divorce papers, her eyes devoid of warmth, sneering that my hundred cuts were nothing compared to Jake' s supposed suffering. They dismissed my dying body as a manipulative ploy, my mother even admitting she orchestrated my brutal incarceration. I was a walking, disfigured ghost of a man, haunted by memories of forced drain cleaner and relentless beatings, yet they still saw only a deceitful monster. How could my own family abandon me to such horrors, actively participate in my torture, and then refuse to believe the undeniable evidence of their cruelty? The final humiliation came at Jake' s lavish birthday gala, where he forced me to publicly apologize. But then, a raw, hidden video from the facility, detailing my screams and brutal abuse, unexpectedly exploded onto the screens, momentarily shattering their facade. Jake' s desperate, manipulative accusations quickly re-blinded them, sealing my fate once more. With death approaching, I yearned only for escape from this family, whose belated remorse and desperate scramble for justice felt hollow and too late. But the truth, once glimpsed, had a way of fighting back.

Introduction

The steel door of the "behavioral correction facility" clanged shut, freeing me after five years of unspeakable torment.

I returned to my grand New England mansion, my face a roadmap of scars, my body wracked by a terminal illness.

Yet, my mother, Eleanor, and my wife, Olivia, greeted me not with solace, but with cold accusation, immediately blaming me for my younger brother Jake' s fabricated trauma.

Olivia chillingly presented divorce papers, her eyes devoid of warmth, sneering that my hundred cuts were nothing compared to Jake' s supposed suffering.

They dismissed my dying body as a manipulative ploy, my mother even admitting she orchestrated my brutal incarceration.

I was a walking, disfigured ghost of a man, haunted by memories of forced drain cleaner and relentless beatings, yet they still saw only a deceitful monster.

How could my own family abandon me to such horrors, actively participate in my torture, and then refuse to believe the undeniable evidence of their cruelty?

The final humiliation came at Jake' s lavish birthday gala, where he forced me to publicly apologize.

But then, a raw, hidden video from the facility, detailing my screams and brutal abuse, unexpectedly exploded onto the screens, momentarily shattering their facade.

Jake' s desperate, manipulative accusations quickly re-blinded them, sealing my fate once more.

With death approaching, I yearned only for escape from this family, whose belated remorse and desperate scramble for justice felt hollow and too late.

But the truth, once glimpsed, had a way of fighting back.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.3

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book