My Heart, My Vengeance

My Heart, My Vengeance

Lan Zixin

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I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room. My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless. He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star. Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo. Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom." Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me. But the ultimate cruelty came later. Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant. "You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "You will donate your heart to Chloe." It wasn't a request; it was my execution. My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life. As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch." I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago. Then, I left my body to die. Yet, I woke up. Not gone, but back. And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster. The deal was clear: save him and save my sister. I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight.

Introduction

I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room.

My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless.

He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star.

Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo.

Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom."

Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me.

But the ultimate cruelty came later.

Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant.

"You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion.

"You will donate your heart to Chloe."

It wasn't a request; it was my execution.

My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life.

As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch."

I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago.

Then, I left my body to die.

Yet, I woke up.

Not gone, but back.

And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster.

The deal was clear: save him and save my sister.

I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight.

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