When Loyalty Turns to Greed

When Loyalty Turns to Greed

Gavin

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The promotion came with a dream office, a Seattle skyline view, and a salary that made my eyes water. But it also came with Mrs. Jenkins, my personal assistant of five years, and the difficult conversation I had to have with her. When I told her I was relocating and she' d have three months' severance, her warm smile froze. "A recommendation and severance won' t be enough, Sarah," she declared, her voice flat, demanding a lifetime pension or my multi-million dollar condo. I laughed, thinking it was a joke, but her dead-serious expression sent a chill down my spine. She then morphed into a full-blown manipulator, blaming me for "ruining" her life and threatening to spread rumors in our tight-knit community. The fight escalated from extortion to outright betrayal when her daughter, Emily, aided by a supposedly incarcerated ex-cop, illegally occupied my condo with a forged lease. The police, thanks to the corrupt officer' s connections, shockingly classified it as a civil matter. I felt outrage and disbelief that I was being targeted and dismissed, my property snatched by a family I had once trusted. The unsettling truth hit me when I saw the "jailed" ex-cop, Kevin, laughing with Mrs. Jenkins and Emily in front of a real estate office, overhearing their plot to forge documents and steal my condo outright. My rage turned to icy resolve; they had underestimated me. I immediately contacted the FBI' s Public Corruption Unit, armed with concrete proof of their conspiracy, knowing this was no longer a petty dispute but a federal crime. My decision to fight back was made.

Introduction

The promotion came with a dream office, a Seattle skyline view, and a salary that made my eyes water.

But it also came with Mrs. Jenkins, my personal assistant of five years, and the difficult conversation I had to have with her.

When I told her I was relocating and she' d have three months' severance, her warm smile froze.

"A recommendation and severance won' t be enough, Sarah," she declared, her voice flat, demanding a lifetime pension or my multi-million dollar condo.

I laughed, thinking it was a joke, but her dead-serious expression sent a chill down my spine.

She then morphed into a full-blown manipulator, blaming me for "ruining" her life and threatening to spread rumors in our tight-knit community.

The fight escalated from extortion to outright betrayal when her daughter, Emily, aided by a supposedly incarcerated ex-cop, illegally occupied my condo with a forged lease.

The police, thanks to the corrupt officer' s connections, shockingly classified it as a civil matter.

I felt outrage and disbelief that I was being targeted and dismissed, my property snatched by a family I had once trusted.

The unsettling truth hit me when I saw the "jailed" ex-cop, Kevin, laughing with Mrs. Jenkins and Emily in front of a real estate office, overhearing their plot to forge documents and steal my condo outright.

My rage turned to icy resolve; they had underestimated me.

I immediately contacted the FBI' s Public Corruption Unit, armed with concrete proof of their conspiracy, knowing this was no longer a petty dispute but a federal crime.

My decision to fight back was made.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

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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