Shattered Vows, Unspoken Love

Shattered Vows, Unspoken Love

Mo Xiaoxiao

5.0
Comment(s)
7.2K
View
12
Chapters

For six years, I devoted my life to my wife, tech CEO Isabella Stone. After I saved her from a fire, I became the sole caregiver for her comatose mother, putting my own life on hold so she could build her empire. Then she went on national television and told the world our marriage was just a debt of gratitude. She never loved me. That same night, her mother died. I tried to call her, but her ex-fiancé-the man who abandoned her in that fire-answered the phone. She was with him, pregnant with his child, while her mother died alone in a hospital. At the funeral, she collapsed and lost the baby. Her lover screamed that it was my fault, and she stood by his side, letting him blame me. I divorced her. I thought it was over. But as we left the lawyer's office, her lover tried to run me over. Isabella pushed me out of the way, taking the hit herself. With her last breath, she confessed the truth. "The baby... he was yours, Izzy. He was always yours."

Chapter 1

For six years, I devoted my life to my wife, tech CEO Isabella Stone. After I saved her from a fire, I became the sole caregiver for her comatose mother, putting my own life on hold so she could build her empire.

Then she went on national television and told the world our marriage was just a debt of gratitude. She never loved me.

That same night, her mother died. I tried to call her, but her ex-fiancé-the man who abandoned her in that fire-answered the phone.

She was with him, pregnant with his child, while her mother died alone in a hospital.

At the funeral, she collapsed and lost the baby. Her lover screamed that it was my fault, and she stood by his side, letting him blame me.

I divorced her. I thought it was over.

But as we left the lawyer's office, her lover tried to run me over. Isabella pushed me out of the way, taking the hit herself. With her last breath, she confessed the truth.

"The baby... he was yours, Izzy. He was always yours."

Chapter 1

The headline glowed on Israel Clark' s phone screen. "The Tech Titan and the Six-Year Secret: Isabella Stone' s Journey Back to the Top."

He watched the video, his thumb hovering over the screen. Isabella, his wife, looked confident and poised in a sharp business suit, a world away from the broken woman he' d married.

A reporter smiled. "Isabella, your success is an inspiration. But our readers are curious about your husband, Israel Clark. He saved you from that terrible data center fire six years ago. Is this a great love story?"

Isabella' s laugh was light, but her eyes were cold. "Israel is a kind man. I was grateful, and he was there for me when I was at my lowest. I owed him a lot."

She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "But gratitude isn't love. I think we both understood that."

The words hit Israel with the force of a physical blow. Six years. Six years of devotion, of caring not just for her, but for her comatose mother, Harriet. All of it, reduced to a debt paid.

He felt a bitter, hollow laugh build in his chest. A fool. He was a fool.

The comments section under the video exploded.

"Wow, she just called her husband a charity case on national TV."

"Six years of gratitude? That's one long thank you card."

"Poor guy probably still thinks she loves him."

Israel' s hand tightened on the phone until his knuckles were white. He didn' t need to read any more. The public humiliation was just salt in a wound that had been festering for years.

He stood up, his movements stiff. The illusion was shattered. There was nothing left to pretend for. He walked to the window, the city lights blurring through the sudden moisture in his eyes.

It was over.

He pulled out his phone again, his fingers moving with a new, cold purpose. He didn't call her. He called his lawyer.

"David, it's Israel."

"Izzy, what's up? Did you see Isabella's interview? She's killing it."

"Yeah, I saw it," Israel said, his voice flat. "I need you to draw up divorce papers."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. "Whoa, hold on. What happened?"

"Just do it, David. I want it done by tomorrow morning."

"Israel, are you sure? This is a big step."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, and hung up.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning and walking down the hallway. He pushed open the door to the master bedroom, which had long been converted into a medical suite.

Harriet Stone lay still in the hospital bed, the only sounds in the room the quiet, rhythmic beeping of her life support machines. For six years, this room had been the center of Israel' s world. He had learned to change IV bags, to monitor vitals, to turn her every two hours to prevent bedsores.

He pulled a chair up to her bedside, his movements gentle and practiced. He took her frail, unmoving hand in his.

"Hey, Harriet," he whispered, his voice thick. "I guess you heard. Or maybe not. Your daughter... she' s a big star now."

He stared at the peaceful, vacant expression on his mother-in-law's face. She was the only one he could talk to, the only one who had been a silent witness to his one-sided marriage.

"She told the world today, Harriet. She told everyone that she never loved me. It was just... gratitude."

He let out a shaky breath. "And the stupid thing is, I think I always knew. I just didn't want to believe it. I thought if I just loved her enough for the both of us, maybe one day..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. What a pathetic thought.

"I' m leaving, Harriet. I have to. I can't do this anymore."

He squeezed her hand gently. "I'll make sure you're taken care of. I promise. But I can't be her husband anymore. It's killing me."

The only reply was the steady hum of the ventilator. For a moment, the silence felt like judgment. He had built his entire life around these two women, and now, he was walking away. But he wasn't really walking away from them. He was walking away from the lie he had been living.

The truth was, he had been alone in this marriage for a long time. The only difference was that now, the whole world knew it, too.

He looked back at Harriet, a flicker of memory crossing his mind. A memory of a different time, before the fire, before the gratitude. A time when he had first seen Isabella Stone and thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

A lifetime ago.

Continue Reading

Other books by Mo Xiaoxiao

More
Reborn From Fire: The Mafia King's Bride

Reborn From Fire: The Mafia King's Bride

Mafia

5.0

The fire that melted my skin should have been the end of my story. I had been the perfect mafia wife. I obeyed my father, I married Dante Genovese, and I even birthed his daughter. But in return, he locked us in a safehouse and lit a match. He watched from behind a steel door as I burned to ash, all because his mistress, Sofia, was jealous and wanted me out of the picture. My own brother had spiked my champagne to ensure I was too weak to fight back. I died screaming, my lungs filling with smoke and the scent of my husband's betrayal. But when I gasped awake, I wasn't in hell. I was in the bridal suite at the Ritz-Carlton. My hands were smooth. My skin was unblemished. The date on the digital clock burned red in the darkness. It was three years ago. It was the night of our engagement. The night it all began. Dante was in the bathroom right now, humming contentedly as he washed off the scent of his mistress before coming to claim his "lawful prize." In my past life, I waited for him. I let him take me, thinking my submission would earn his love. Not this time. I didn't run to the lobby for help. My family had sold me out. Instead, I took the elevator to the Penthouse floor. To the territory of the Outfit. To the door of Matteo Moretti—The Butcher. The only man ruthless enough to make Dante tremble. When the door opened, revealing a man with eyes like ice and a gun in his hand, I didn't flinch. I fell to my knees and looked up at the monster who could save me. "I am Elena Vitiello," I whispered, the drug in my veins setting my blood on fire. "And I have a proposition."

Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Claimed By The Uncle: My Sweet Revenge

Modern

5.0

I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground. But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes. Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted. Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream. I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold. That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash. "You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.

You'll also like

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

Nap Regazzini
5.0

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book