The Artist's Betrayal, A Love Lost

The Artist's Betrayal, A Love Lost

Gavin

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My solo exhibition. Ten years of blood, sweat, and paint, culminating in this night. But it was torn from me. Liam, my mentor, my lover, the man who rebuilt my gallery after a fire, seized my most personal masterpiece, "Echoes of the Fall," and gifted it to Scarlett, a new ingenue, right before my eyes. When I confronted him, asking him to leave, he slapped me, then threatened to ruin my parents' small business if I didn't beg Scarlett for forgiveness. I knelt. I apologized. The humiliation burned hotter than any fire. Later, he "lent" me to a business associate, a grotesque arrangement I couldn't comprehend. He then accused me of faking an injury on Scarlett and forced me to crawl on the freezing city streets, searching for a phantom earring, while strangers mocked and filmed me. My old friend, Ben, tried to intervene, but Liam dragged me away, accusing me of betrayal. His escalating paranoia led him to force me onto a balcony ledge, demanding I prove my love by letting go. I slipped, shattering my ankle. At the hospital, the doctor' s grave words echoed: "You' ve lost the baby." Liam' s cruel "test" had killed our child. In that sterile room, a cold, hard resolve solidified in my soul. I would disappear. I would die to him. He would finally know what he had lost.

Introduction

My solo exhibition. Ten years of blood, sweat, and paint, culminating in this night.

But it was torn from me. Liam, my mentor, my lover, the man who rebuilt my gallery after a fire, seized my most personal masterpiece, "Echoes of the Fall," and gifted it to Scarlett, a new ingenue, right before my eyes.

When I confronted him, asking him to leave, he slapped me, then threatened to ruin my parents' small business if I didn't beg Scarlett for forgiveness.

I knelt. I apologized. The humiliation burned hotter than any fire.

Later, he "lent" me to a business associate, a grotesque arrangement I couldn't comprehend. He then accused me of faking an injury on Scarlett and forced me to crawl on the freezing city streets, searching for a phantom earring, while strangers mocked and filmed me. My old friend, Ben, tried to intervene, but Liam dragged me away, accusing me of betrayal.

His escalating paranoia led him to force me onto a balcony ledge, demanding I prove my love by letting go. I slipped, shattering my ankle.

At the hospital, the doctor' s grave words echoed: "You' ve lost the baby." Liam' s cruel "test" had killed our child.

In that sterile room, a cold, hard resolve solidified in my soul. I would disappear. I would die to him. He would finally know what he had lost.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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