Her Second Life, His Fatal Invitation

Her Second Life, His Fatal Invitation

Kattie Eaton

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The scent of lavender and old books filled my dorm room, a stark contrast to the black void I' d just clawed my way out of. Then my phone buzzed, displaying a name that froze my blood: Chloe. Her text, "`Hey sis! Girls' night! Let's celebrate our bday tonight at Club Neon! Can't wait! xo`," was an invitation to my own destruction. I remembered the last time, walking into Club Neon full of hope to mend things with my half-sister, only for her to frame me for drug possession. My parents, who always adored Chloe, believed her over me, their "ambitious" but seemingly unlovable daughter. I lost everything: my prestigious internship, my reputation, my family' s trust, and eventually, my will to live, dying in a cold prison cell. But in the void, the truth shattered the darkness: Chloe and her boyfriend Brandon planned it all, laughing about ruining my life because of her vicious envy and his need to escape his own drug charges. Now I was back, breathing, the sun warm on my skin, with their fatal invitation buzzing in my hand. The naive Olivia was dead; the woman now holding this phone was a ghost with a second chance, her resolve a cold, hard diamond. "Okay."

Introduction

The scent of lavender and old books filled my dorm room, a stark contrast to the black void I' d just clawed my way out of.

Then my phone buzzed, displaying a name that froze my blood: Chloe.

Her text, "`Hey sis! Girls' night! Let's celebrate our bday tonight at Club Neon! Can't wait! xo`," was an invitation to my own destruction.

I remembered the last time, walking into Club Neon full of hope to mend things with my half-sister, only for her to frame me for drug possession.

My parents, who always adored Chloe, believed her over me, their "ambitious" but seemingly unlovable daughter.

I lost everything: my prestigious internship, my reputation, my family' s trust, and eventually, my will to live, dying in a cold prison cell.

But in the void, the truth shattered the darkness: Chloe and her boyfriend Brandon planned it all, laughing about ruining my life because of her vicious envy and his need to escape his own drug charges.

Now I was back, breathing, the sun warm on my skin, with their fatal invitation buzzing in my hand.

The naive Olivia was dead; the woman now holding this phone was a ghost with a second chance, her resolve a cold, hard diamond.

"Okay."

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Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Despair

Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Despair

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Second Chances: Love After Betrayal

Second Chances: Love After Betrayal

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My best friend, Emily, and I married into the powerful Thorne family on the same day. We thought we had it all, living a dream life as two of the luckiest women in the world. That illusion shattered on a Tuesday afternoon when Emily burst into my sunroom, her face pale, shoving her phone at me. The screen showed paparazzi photos of her husband, Liam, with another woman – his "childhood sweetheart," Olivia Hayes. Before I could process Emily's fury, my own tablet lit up. A press release from my husband Ethan' s company announced Olivia as the new face of his lifestyle brand, complete with a smiling photo of her next to him. Not only was Olivia the source of my best friend's pain, but my own husband, who had been distant and forgotten our anniversary, had made her our company's public face without a word to me. All my grievances, the neglect, the loneliness-they all flooded back. He didn't even think to mention it, treating me like just another asset to manage, not a wife to love. A cold resolve settled over me. Emily, still raging about her post-divorce plans, saw the press release on my tablet. A dangerous smile spread across her face. "Well," she said, "Looks like we' re both in the market for an upgrade." "Okay," I declared, a hysterical laugh bubbling up. "I' m in. We' re getting divorced. And I' ll find male models who are better than Ethan." Our laughter, wild and unhinged, was cut short by a low, cold voice from the doorway: "Better than me?" My husband, Ethan, stood there. He must have heard everything.

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