When The Victim Becomes The Predator

When The Victim Becomes The Predator

Miss Demeanor

5.0
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My cousin Liam has a hobby. It' s ruining my life. Every time I found a girl I genuinely liked, he' d swoop in, charm her, and orchestrate a public, humiliating breakup. For years, I played the victim, internalizing the laughter and pity, dismissed by my mother as merely "jealous." But this time, with Chloe Jenkins, I wasn't just waiting for the storm. I built it. I watched as Liam Davis, parasite extraordinaire, took the bait. He flaunted Chloe on social media, convinced she was another notch on his belt, funded by his ex-wife Sarah' s endless alimony checks. Then, Sarah revealed Liam was living on borrowed time, off credit cards in her name. It was all a carefully laid trap, and he walked right into it, dragging Chloe and himself into a spiral of fraud and deception. He showed up at my door, a ghost of the man who terrorized my youth, wild-eyed and desperate. "You set this all up," he snarled as two menacing figures dragged me into a black SUV. He threw the first punch, my head snapping against the window. This wasn' t just about humiliation anymore; it was about survival. But Liam forgot one crucial detail: I wasn' t the only player in this game. And as his broken body plunged into the dark water, pulled down by the very current he created, I finally understood. Freedom wasn't a gift. It was a weapon, forged in years of pain, and wielded with precision.

Introduction

My cousin Liam has a hobby. It' s ruining my life.

Every time I found a girl I genuinely liked, he' d swoop in, charm her, and orchestrate a public, humiliating breakup.

For years, I played the victim, internalizing the laughter and pity, dismissed by my mother as merely "jealous."

But this time, with Chloe Jenkins,

I wasn't just waiting for the storm.

I built it.

I watched as Liam Davis, parasite extraordinaire, took the bait.

He flaunted Chloe on social media, convinced she was another notch on his belt, funded by his ex-wife Sarah' s endless alimony checks.

Then, Sarah revealed Liam was living on borrowed time, off credit cards in her name.

It was all a carefully laid trap, and he walked right into it, dragging Chloe and himself into a spiral of fraud and deception.

He showed up at my door, a ghost of the man who terrorized my youth, wild-eyed and desperate.

"You set this all up," he snarled as two menacing figures dragged me into a black SUV.

He threw the first punch, my head snapping against the window.

This wasn' t just about humiliation anymore; it was about survival.

But Liam forgot one crucial detail: I wasn' t the only player in this game.

And as his broken body plunged into the dark water, pulled down by the very current he created, I finally understood.

Freedom wasn't a gift.

It was a weapon, forged in years of pain, and wielded with precision.

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Reborn Heiress: My Family's Bitter Karma

Reborn Heiress: My Family's Bitter Karma

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5.0

On my eighteenth birthday, the celestial pact hiding my aura finally expired. I stood on the rotting steps of the trailer, watching my foster family celebrate my eviction like they’d won the lottery. Brenda threw a liability waiver at me to sign, ensuring I’d never ask for a dime of their welfare checks again. Worse, her daughter Regina stood there smirking, flaunting the heirloom emerald bracelet she’d stolen from my secret stash—unaware it was a spiritual artifact soaked in fifty years of blood magic. "Consider it payment for room and board, freak," Regina sneered, forcing the silver band over her wrist. They thought they were discarding a burden. They didn't realize I was the only dam holding back a tidal wave of their own bad karma. As I signed the papers, voluntarily severing our ties, the air pressure plummeted. The bracelet began to constrict like a snake, turning Regina’s flesh a necrotic purple as the protection I offered vanished. Before they could scream, a matte black helicopter bearing the Sterling Industries crest descended onto the muddy lawn, blowing their plastic lawn chairs into the neighbor's yard. A man in a bespoke charcoal suit stepped out, ignoring the filth to bow before me. He looked at my terrified foster family and announced, "We are here to retrieve the Sterling heiress." I smiled at Regina, whose arm was already beginning to rot, and whispered, "Keep the bracelet. You'll need it to pay for the amputation."

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