The Unwanted Blessing

The Unwanted Blessing

Gavin

5.0
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I was eight, maybe nine, when my father branded me "bad luck." Exiled from the Miller empire, I grew up with Elara in the quiet Ozarks, who saw a light in me, saying "things grow better in the sunshine." Ten years later, a thick, gold-embossed envelope arrived, pulling Sadie back. It was a summons to my younger brother Ethan's 21st birthday gala, the favored heir. "Your father expects your attendance," the note commanded, offering no welcome. Richard Miller met me with arctic eyes, scanning my simple clothes. Ethan, the spoiled golden child, sneered, "Look what the cat dragged in from the sticks." The chilling truth emerged: this wasn't a reunion, but a formal disinheritance. At the glittering country club, I was publicly mocked as a "charity case," old wounds tearing open. Ethan grinned, shoving legal documents at me: "We' re making it official." My father, via phone, clipped: "Sign the papers and be done with it." The familiar weight of being blamed, of inherent flaw, pressed down heavily. For years, I' d believed I was the source of Miller's "bad luck"-fender benders, fires-all starting, Dad said, at my birth. This cruel dismissal felt final, confirming every unwanted memory. But clutching Elara' s smooth river stone, a different truth settled. "Luck runs in funny streams," I told Ethan, "You might be diverting more than you think." With a strange calm, I signed "Sarah Miller" for the last time. The moment my pen lifted, a speaker crackled and died, and chaos rippled instantly. Ethan' s prized car smashed, company scandals erupted, credit lines froze. The Miller empire, built on sand and shortcuts, was finally crumbling. Some ties, once broken, unleash far more than just freedom.

Introduction

I was eight, maybe nine, when my father branded me "bad luck."

Exiled from the Miller empire, I grew up with Elara in the quiet Ozarks, who saw a light in me, saying "things grow better in the sunshine."

Ten years later, a thick, gold-embossed envelope arrived, pulling Sadie back.

It was a summons to my younger brother Ethan's 21st birthday gala, the favored heir.

"Your father expects your attendance," the note commanded, offering no welcome.

Richard Miller met me with arctic eyes, scanning my simple clothes.

Ethan, the spoiled golden child, sneered, "Look what the cat dragged in from the sticks."

The chilling truth emerged: this wasn't a reunion, but a formal disinheritance.

At the glittering country club, I was publicly mocked as a "charity case," old wounds tearing open.

Ethan grinned, shoving legal documents at me: "We' re making it official."

My father, via phone, clipped: "Sign the papers and be done with it."

The familiar weight of being blamed, of inherent flaw, pressed down heavily.

For years, I' d believed I was the source of Miller's "bad luck"-fender benders, fires-all starting, Dad said, at my birth.

This cruel dismissal felt final, confirming every unwanted memory.

But clutching Elara' s smooth river stone, a different truth settled.

"Luck runs in funny streams," I told Ethan, "You might be diverting more than you think."

With a strange calm, I signed "Sarah Miller" for the last time.

The moment my pen lifted, a speaker crackled and died, and chaos rippled instantly.

Ethan' s prized car smashed, company scandals erupted, credit lines froze.

The Miller empire, built on sand and shortcuts, was finally crumbling.

Some ties, once broken, unleash far more than just freedom.

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The Rejected Healer: Her Rise as the White Wolf

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I carried a thermal container of stew to my fiancé's private estate, worried he was stressed about our upcoming pack merger. Instead of a meditation retreat, I walked into a nightmare. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ivan playing on the rug with a secret son, while a woman named Kiera watched like a queen. I froze as I heard Ivan's voice float through the glass. "Aliana is just a placeholder. She smells like antiseptic and fear. Once I get the territory, I'll reject her." My heart shattered, but the knife twisted deeper when he laughed about my parents. "Her folks pay for this villa, Kiera. They know. They prefer a strong alliance over a disappointment of a daughter." My own parents were drugging me to steal my medical patents. They thought I was weak. They thought I was just a submissive Healer. I wiped my tears and unlocked his safe with the admin codes he forgot I installed. I took the financial records, the fake DNA tests, and the theft agreements. That night, at his secret son's birthday party, I didn't bring a gift. I brought a projector. I played their confession for the entire Council, severed the mate bond publicly, and vanished into the North. Six months later, a ruined, homeless Ivan crawled into my clinic, begging for the legendary White Wolf to save him. He looked up, shocked to see me standing there, glowing with silver power. "You rejected the gift of the Goddess," I smiled, letting my Alpha aura crush him to the floor. "Now, get out."

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