His Cruelest Game

His Cruelest Game

Shelby Helliwell

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For three torturous years, I lived as a ghost in my own life. Haunted by the car crash I believed killed my sister, Savannah, and crippled her boyfriend, Ethan, I dedicated myself to his care. He was my tormentor, using my guilt as his chain. Then, one stormy night, I walked into a honky-tonk bar and heard the laughter. It was Ethan, boasting to his friends: "Three whole years she's bought it. Wiping my ass, feeding me like a baby, all because she thinks she crippled me." My world didn't just crack; it shattered when I saw him stand and dance. His paralysis was a lie. My three years of devotion, his meticulous act of revenge. He didn't stop there. He moved me to a dusty tack room, forced me to watch him replace my sister, and then, in a sadistic climax, lured me to a hunting cabin. There, he and his friends humiliated me, filming my terror. Broken, I faked my own death, escaping to Oregon, shedding my identity to become Anna. I found love and a future, finally breathing again. But fate has a cruel sense of irony. Ethan, now truly paralyzed by psychosomatic trauma triggered by my "death," was sent to a clinic in my new city. Our eyes met across a busy street, and his desperate cry, "Sarah!" tore through my new life. He tried to control me again, but I was no longer the girl he broke. Standing tall with the man I loved, I unleashed three years of silenced truth. "You killed Savannah," I declared, exposing his role in her desperation. "And the hunting cabin? You filmed that for amusement!" He stared, utterly defeated, as the truth of his monstrous acts finally consumed him. This time, I didn't run. I stood defiant, free, ready to marry the man who showed me what true love was. My past was behind me, and my own future, filled with quiet happiness, had just begun.

Introduction

For three torturous years, I lived as a ghost in my own life.

Haunted by the car crash I believed killed my sister, Savannah, and crippled her boyfriend, Ethan, I dedicated myself to his care.

He was my tormentor, using my guilt as his chain.

Then, one stormy night, I walked into a honky-tonk bar and heard the laughter.

It was Ethan, boasting to his friends: "Three whole years she's bought it. Wiping my ass, feeding me like a baby, all because she thinks she crippled me."

My world didn't just crack; it shattered when I saw him stand and dance.

His paralysis was a lie.

My three years of devotion, his meticulous act of revenge.

He didn't stop there.

He moved me to a dusty tack room, forced me to watch him replace my sister, and then, in a sadistic climax, lured me to a hunting cabin.

There, he and his friends humiliated me, filming my terror.

Broken, I faked my own death, escaping to Oregon, shedding my identity to become Anna.

I found love and a future, finally breathing again.

But fate has a cruel sense of irony.

Ethan, now truly paralyzed by psychosomatic trauma triggered by my "death," was sent to a clinic in my new city.

Our eyes met across a busy street, and his desperate cry, "Sarah!" tore through my new life.

He tried to control me again, but I was no longer the girl he broke.

Standing tall with the man I loved, I unleashed three years of silenced truth.

"You killed Savannah," I declared, exposing his role in her desperation.

"And the hunting cabin? You filmed that for amusement!"

He stared, utterly defeated, as the truth of his monstrous acts finally consumed him.

This time, I didn't run.

I stood defiant, free, ready to marry the man who showed me what true love was.

My past was behind me, and my own future, filled with quiet happiness, had just begun.

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Other books by Shelby Helliwell

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He Rejected Me, So I Married the Lycan King

He Rejected Me, So I Married the Lycan King

Werewolf

5.0

For ten years, I was the invisible backbone of the Silver Creek Pack. I cooked the books to hide Alpha Ethan's gambling debts. I ghostwrote the peace treaties that kept our borders safe. I warmed his bed every night, waiting for the bite that would mark me as his Luna. On the night of our tenth anniversary, I didn't get a ring. I got replaced. Ethan walked into the gala with Ashley, a wealthy heiress dripping in gold, clinging to his arm. When I tried to speak to him, he didn't just ignore me. He used an Alpha Command—a biological weapon that hijacked my free will. "Go to the kitchen," he ordered, forcing my knees to hit the floor in front of the entire pack. "Ashley is sensitive to the smell of stress. You're ruining her night." He humiliated me in the house I helped build. He wore the crown I polished for him, thinking I was nothing more than a glorified housekeeper he could discard at will. He forgot that while he held the title, I held the passwords. I didn't go to the kitchen. I went to the office. I initiated a permanent wipe of the cloud backups, reformatted the local servers, and deleted ten years of financial strategies. Then, I snapped the mate bond and walked out into the rain. Three days later, I walked back into the conference room. Ethan laughed, thinking I was there to beg for my job back. I threw a foreclosure contract onto the table. "I'm not here to serve drinks, Ethan. I'm the new owner of your debt. Get out of my chair."

A Jilted Lover's Triumphant Return

A Jilted Lover's Triumphant Return

Romance

5.0

The new house smelled of fresh paint, a fresh start for Ava Miller, a successful tech entrepreneur, her loving husband Liam, and their two-year-old son, Leo. Her peaceful suburban dream shattered when a car pulled up, and out stepped her aunt and cousin-faces she hadn't seen since she left her old life behind. "Ava! We heard you moved into the neighborhood! What a surprise!" her aunt chirped, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. Her cousin' s sly glance past Ava signaled trouble: "We ran into Ethan Hayes's mother... She was saying how much Ethan still misses you." The name hung in the air, a poisonous cloud. Ethan Hayes, her college sweetheart, the man who publicly humiliated her by announcing his engagement to another woman at their supposed engagement party. They twisted the knife, claiming Ethan still pined for her, ignoring her cold silence, daring to suggest reconciliation. Then came the final insult, "His mother said he' s not happy with Chloe. He' s still waiting for you, Ava." A strange calm settled over Ava. The heartbroken girl they knew was dead. "I appreciate your concern," Ava said, a polite, chilling smile on her face. "But I think there's been a misunderstanding." She pulled Liam forward, her husband of two years, and gestured to Leo, playing happily in the yard. "This is my husband, Liam. And that's our son, Leo." Their smiles shattered, replaced by stunned silence. The image they held of her-the pining, discarded lover-crumbled before the woman she had become. After all this time, after all she had endured, did they truly believe she was still the same person, waiting for the man who broke her? Her past, once a painful scar, became her shield. The calm in her voice held a dangerous promise: Her life with Liam was not a misunderstanding, but a meticulously built fortress against the ghosts she had outrun.

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