Collateral Love, Cruel Betrayal

Collateral Love, Cruel Betrayal

Gavin

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I was a foster kid with a talent for art. My benefactor, Declan, gave me everything: an education, a home, and a future. I loved him, and I agreed to be his wife. Then his adopted sister, Faye, decided she wanted my brother. When my brother rejected her, Declan had his hands broken, destroying his future as a musician. Faye framed me for kidnapping her, and Declan believed every word. He had me thrown into an abandoned mine pit filled with snakes as punishment. Then, to teach me a "permanent lesson," he had his men drag me to a clinic. They took one of my kidneys. The man who promised to protect me, who I thought was my savior, carved a piece of me out for a crime I didn't commit. The love I felt for him died on that operating table. When I woke up, he sat by my bed and told me our wedding was still on. He thought he had broken me. He was wrong. He doesn't know I have a plan. He doesn't know I'm leaving. And he'll never see me again.

Chapter 1

I was a foster kid with a talent for art. My benefactor, Declan, gave me everything: an education, a home, and a future. I loved him, and I agreed to be his wife.

Then his adopted sister, Faye, decided she wanted my brother. When my brother rejected her, Declan had his hands broken, destroying his future as a musician.

Faye framed me for kidnapping her, and Declan believed every word. He had me thrown into an abandoned mine pit filled with snakes as punishment.

Then, to teach me a "permanent lesson," he had his men drag me to a clinic.

They took one of my kidneys.

The man who promised to protect me, who I thought was my savior, carved a piece of me out for a crime I didn't commit. The love I felt for him died on that operating table.

When I woke up, he sat by my bed and told me our wedding was still on.

He thought he had broken me. He was wrong.

He doesn't know I have a plan. He doesn't know I'm leaving.

And he'll never see me again.

Chapter 1

The buzz around the Lamb family' s adopted daughter, Faye, and her sudden interest in my brother was the talk of our social circle. Everyone knew Faye Lamb got whatever she wanted.

But my brother, Coleton, wasn' t interested.

The rumors were just background noise until my phone buzzed. It was a video from an unknown number.

My finger hovered over the screen, a cold feeling creeping up my spine.

I pressed play.

The video was shaky, filmed in what looked like a damp, dark alley. Coleton was on the ground, his face bruised, his musician' s hands bent at unnatural angles. A man' s voice, rough and low, came from behind the camera.

"He should have been nicer to Faye. Now look at his pretty little hands. Not much good for playing the guitar anymore, are they?"

My breath hitched. My heart hammered against my ribs.

Then, my phone started ringing. It was a video call from the same number. From Declan.

My benefactor. The man I loved.

My hand trembled as I swiped to answer. My whole body felt like it was encased in ice.

Declan' s face filled the screen. He looked perfect, as always, sitting in his leather office chair, the New York skyline glittering behind him. He wasn' t even looking at the camera. He was looking at something off to the side.

"You have one hour, Alana. Come to the penthouse. Alone."

My body was rigid, my voice a choked whisper. "Declan, what did you do?"

"Don't worry," he said, his tone casual, like he was discussing the weather. "Coleton is important to you."

Tears streamed down my face. "He' s my brother. He' s all I have."

Declan finally turned to the camera. His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth I once cherished. "And Faye is all I have. She' s very upset. Coleton hurt her feelings."

"He didn't do anything! He just didn't want to date her."

"That' s not the story she told me," Declan said, his voice flat. "And Faye doesn' t lie." He gestured off-screen. "Find Faye. Apologize to her. Convince her to forgive you. Then maybe I' ll let your brother go."

The camera on the other end of the video, the one in the alley, moved. A heavy boot stomped down hard on Coleton' s already broken hand.

A scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate. "Stop! Please, I' ll do anything! Stop!"

I remembered a different Declan. A man who had found me, a scared foster kid with a life-threatening peanut allergy and a talent for art. He' d sponsored my education, my housing, my entire life.

He' d made sure every kitchen I ever used was scrubbed free of peanuts. He' d hired tutors, bought me the best art supplies, and praised my work with a genuine smile that made my heart flutter.

He' d taken a broken girl and made her feel whole.

He had promised me the world, a future, a home. The only thing he asked for in return was my hand in marriage. I had agreed without a second thought. I was so in love with him.

One of his friends once teased him, "You look at her like she' s the only thing in the room." And he' d just smiled, pulling me closer. It felt like a fairy tale.

Then Faye came back from her boarding school in Europe.

Suddenly, I felt the chasm between us. Faye was a Lamb, adopted into old money, a true princess. I was just a charity case Declan had picked up.

His attention shifted. The long talks we used to have were cut short. The casual touches disappeared. He was always with Faye, soothing her, indulging her every whim.

I finally understood. His love, or what I thought was love, had moved on.

I was a pet he' d grown tired of. Faye was his treasure.

I stumbled out of my apartment, my mind a blur of panic and a single, clear objective. Find Faye.

I got to the penthouse, my key still working, and found her in the living room, lounging on the silk sofa. Declan wasn't there.

Her sweet, fragile facade was gone. Her eyes were hard, her smile sharp. "So, you came."

"Where's Coleton?" I begged, my voice cracking.

"You want him back?" she asked, examining her perfectly manicured nails. "Then you know what you have to do. Leave Declan. Tell him you never loved him, that you were just using him for his money."

I remembered all the times Faye had "accidentally" spilled things on my work. The times my allergy medication went missing right before a big event. The times Declan had gotten angry with me over misunderstandings she had clearly created.

It was all her. All of it.

Declan' s devotion to her was absolute. He had once punched a guy at a party for looking at Faye for too long. He saw her as fragile, as something to be protected at all costs. An incestuous, possessive protection that I was only now beginning to understand.

"I' ll do it," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. I had no choice.

Faye' s lips curved into a smug, satisfied smile. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a message. "Good girl."

A moment later, Declan called. His voice was light, almost cheerful. "He' s at the old warehouse on the pier, Alana. Go get him."

I drove like a madwoman, my hands shaking on the steering wheel. I found Coleton huddled in a corner, broken and shivering.

I held him, my tears soaking his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Coley. This is all my fault."

He just whimpered, his body wracked with pain.

"We're leaving," I told him, a new, hard resolve forming in my chest. "We're getting out of here. I promise."

I got him to the hospital, the doctors confirming his hands would need multiple surgeries, his music career now a fragile, uncertain dream.

Once he was stable, I pulled out my phone and called the only person I knew I could trust.

"Jason?"

"Alana? What' s wrong?" His voice was steady, a rock in my swirling sea of chaos.

"I need your help. Remember that study abroad program you told Coleton about?"

Jason, a successful lawyer now, had grown up in the same foster home as me and Coleton. He'd always looked out for us. He' d suggested a prestigious music program in Canada for Coleton months ago.

Coleton had refused, not wanting to leave me alone.

And Declan would have never let me go. He owned me.

But that was before. Now, I had the courage. The courage born of absolute terror and heartbreak.

I was leaving. And I was taking my brother with me.

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