Disowned, Disabled, Dangerous

Disowned, Disabled, Dangerous

Hydro Therapy

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My engagement party was just one night away. A celebration of big money, big families, and my upcoming marriage to Izzy Hayes. But first, a "surprise" at a remote pump house, arranged by Izzy and my supposed brother, Liam. When I arrived, there was no Izzy, no Liam, just shadows. Then came the blows. Blinding, searing pain, and the sickening crunch of my Achilles tendons. I woke up in a hospital, weak and blind, my legs burning with infection. Through a medicated haze, I heard my own mother, Eleanor, casually discussing amputating my legs. "Do what you must," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "He won't be needing to carry on the Vance name anyway." She and Liam were plotting, gloating about securing the Vance empire, about how I, her own son, would no longer be a problem. The cold certainty hit me: this barbaric attack, my disfigurement, it was their doing. My home wasn't a homecoming; it was a death trap. Rage, pure and cold, flooded me. Then I learned my kind father, Marcus, who secretly saved Eleanor's life with his kidney, was now being tortured at Victor Sterling' s "wellness retreat." Drugged and slowly dying from organ rejection, all part of their larger conspiracy. They stripped me of everything, but they underestimated my will to fight. Feigning unconsciousness, I fumbled for my hidden burner phone. This was just the beginning.

Introduction

My engagement party was just one night away.

A celebration of big money, big families, and my upcoming marriage to Izzy Hayes.

But first, a "surprise" at a remote pump house, arranged by Izzy and my supposed brother, Liam.

When I arrived, there was no Izzy, no Liam, just shadows.

Then came the blows.

Blinding, searing pain, and the sickening crunch of my Achilles tendons.

I woke up in a hospital, weak and blind, my legs burning with infection.

Through a medicated haze, I heard my own mother, Eleanor, casually discussing amputating my legs.

"Do what you must," she said, her voice devoid of warmth.

"He won't be needing to carry on the Vance name anyway."

She and Liam were plotting, gloating about securing the Vance empire, about how I, her own son, would no longer be a problem.

The cold certainty hit me: this barbaric attack, my disfigurement, it was their doing.

My home wasn't a homecoming; it was a death trap.

Rage, pure and cold, flooded me.

Then I learned my kind father, Marcus, who secretly saved Eleanor's life with his kidney, was now being tortured at Victor Sterling' s "wellness retreat."

Drugged and slowly dying from organ rejection, all part of their larger conspiracy.

They stripped me of everything, but they underestimated my will to fight.

Feigning unconsciousness, I fumbled for my hidden burner phone.

This was just the beginning.

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His Wife, The Starved Dog

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The screen on Ethan's phone glowed, showing a missed video call from his sister, Sarah. He swiped to check the voicemail, but it wasn't a message; the call had connected, and his phone had recorded what happened next. The shaky video revealed his sister' s office, but a woman he didn't recognize, Jessica Riley, sat in Sarah's chair, laughing with his brother-in-law, Mark Thompson, as they mocked Sarah's supposed foolishness. Then the camera moved, revealing Sarah herself, curled on the floor, her hair matted, clothes in rags, a metal chain around her neck, and an empty dog bowl beside her. Jessica cooed, "Time for dinner, sweetie," kicking the bowl, while Mark dropped bread, saying, "Eat up, doggy." Ethan watched in horror as his brilliant sister scrambled for food like a starved animal. A cold rage seized him, cracking his phone screen, and with a dangerously calm voice, he called his assistant: "Get the jet. We're going home. Now." Landing in the US, Ethan found his childhood home overgrown and dreary. Kicking the door open, he discovered Sarah chained to a radiator, skeletal and terrified, whimpering at his approach. This was his sister, treated like an animal in her own home. Mark, Brenda, and Jessica appeared, feigning concern, claiming Sarah was "unstable" and producing forged medical diagnoses, trying to dismiss the horrific scene with a piece of paper. Ethan' s control finally snapped. He knew Sarah' s strength, her intelligence; this cruelty was inflicted upon her. He watched as Mark, arrogant and unrepentant, tried to silence Sarah's weak confession of forced signatures. When Mark raised a hand to strike her, Ethan intervened, his grip like steel, "Don't you ever touch her again." Mark spouted lies, accusing Sarah of ruining the company, blaming her for the bruises and injuries that covered her body. The scene escalated as Ethan, blood boiling, called his assistant, David, who arrived with a team of men. He ordered Mark, Brenda, and Jessica secured, stating, "You are a parasite, Mark. And you own nothing," before hitting him. Mark, still defiant, claimed control of Hayes Innovations and the board. Ethan calmly directed David to search the house for evidence, then gently unclipped Sarah, scooping her into his arms. She was light as a child, trembling, whispering, "He'll hurt you. He'll hurt us both." Ethan vowed, "He has no idea what I'm capable of." He saw the raw marks on her neck, fueled by fresh fury. Sarah huddled in his jacket, whispering how Mark had gaslighted her with fake videos. Ethan knew the videos were lies. Kneeling, he gently told her, "We're going to your office." When she panicked, terrified of Jessica, he reassured her, "It's time for everyone to see the real CEO of Hayes Innovations." With a flicker of her old self, an almost imperceptible nod, she agreed. He left the villains secured, telling David to find every piece of evidence they had used against her. Holding Sarah's hand, he led her out, ready to fight.

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