The Vow of Vengeance, The Veil of Love

Gavin

Romance | Completed

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The air at my welcome-home party was thick with the smell of old money, but I smelled only betrayal. After years building my empire overseas, the last thing I wanted was to play nice with the ghosts of my past. Then I saw her, my ex-girlfriend, leaning into Andrew, my half-brother, the constant reminder of my mother's tragic death. The smile froze on Jen's face when she saw me, a flicker of panic in her eyes, but it was too late. I cut her off, my gaze cold enough to shatter glass, and made it clear: he was nothing, a cheap copy, and she, unworthy. What followed was a brutal, calculated war waged in boardrooms and on national television, where I systematically dismantled Andrew's life, exposing him for the parasite he was. But driven to desperation, he played his final hand, pushing me off a cliff into darkness, leaving me for dead, just as his mother had killed mine. I woke up weeks later in a hospital bed, the world buzzing with the scandal, but it was a single image that consumed me: Gaby Chadwick, the reclusive heiress, a woman I barely knew, praying for me, her silent vigil a public spectacle of devotion. Why? Why would she sacrifice her untouchable anonymity for me? I decided then and there to make her mine, proposing a cold, strategic merger, a union of power and dynasties. She accepted, but then, with unnerving calm, used my own words against me, creating a wall of polite distance, turning our marriage into a corporate contract. I had won the war, yet I was lost, trapped in a loveless arrangement of my own making, desperate to break through her serene facade. Then, hidden away in a journal, I found it: a decade of silent adoration, deep, unwavering love for me, a love that transcended any business deal. I had been blind, a fool. Now, the real story begins.

Betrayal Revenge Flash marriage Office romance Billionaires

Chapter 9

11-03 20:24

Introduction

The air at my welcome-home party was thick with the smell of old money, but I smelled only betrayal.

After years building my empire overseas, the last thing I wanted was to play nice with the ghosts of my past.

Then I saw her, my ex-girlfriend, leaning into Andrew, my half-brother, the constant reminder of my mother's tragic death.

The smile froze on Jen's face when she saw me, a flicker of panic in her eyes, but it was too late.

I cut her off, my gaze cold enough to shatter glass, and made it clear: he was nothing, a cheap copy, and she, unworthy.

What followed was a brutal, calculated war waged in boardrooms and on national television, where I systematically dismantled Andrew's life, exposing him for the parasite he was.

But driven to desperation, he played his final hand, pushing me off a cliff into darkness, leaving me for dead, just as his mother had killed mine.

I woke up weeks later in a hospital bed, the world buzzing with the scandal, but it was a single image that consumed me: Gaby Chadwick, the reclusive heiress, a woman I barely knew, praying for me, her silent vigil a public spectacle of devotion.

Why? Why would she sacrifice her untouchable anonymity for me?

I decided then and there to make her mine, proposing a cold, strategic merger, a union of power and dynasties.

She accepted, but then, with unnerving calm, used my own words against me, creating a wall of polite distance, turning our marriage into a corporate contract.

I had won the war, yet I was lost, trapped in a loveless arrangement of my own making, desperate to break through her serene facade.

Then, hidden away in a journal, I found it: a decade of silent adoration, deep, unwavering love for me, a love that transcended any business deal.

I had been blind, a fool.

Now, the real story begins.