My Wedding Gift: His Public Execution

My Wedding Gift: His Public Execution

EstelleCramail

5.0
Comment(s)
59.9K
View
22
Chapters

Ten days before my wedding, I learned my fiancé-the man who swore to heal my abandonment issues-was cheating for a "final taste of freedom." His betrayal cost me our unborn child, and then he had the audacity to beg me to give my blood to save his mistress's life. He expected to see me walking down the aisle, but I planned a different kind of show: a wedding gift that would be his public execution.

Chapter 1

Ten days before my wedding, I learned my fiancé-the man who swore to heal my abandonment issues-was cheating for a "final taste of freedom."

His betrayal cost me our unborn child, and then he had the audacity to beg me to give my blood to save his mistress's life.

He expected to see me walking down the aisle, but I planned a different kind of show: a wedding gift that would be his public execution.

Chapter 1

Elaina Higgins POV:

Ten days before my wedding, I found a single, long blonde hair on my fiancé' s suit jacket.

It wasn't mine.

My hair is the color of dark chocolate, a stark contrast to the platinum strand clinging to the expensive wool of Derek' s lapel. I was in our walk-in closet, a space that smelled of his cologne and my perfume, a symphony of our six years together. The air was thick with anticipation. Our wedding invitations sat in a pristine stack on the mahogany island, their gold calligraphy gleaming under the soft lights. Everything was perfect. Almost.

I plucked the hair from the fabric, holding it between my thumb and forefinger. It was unnaturally bright, almost white. A cold dread, sharp and unwelcome, snaked its way up my spine.

It's nothing, I told myself. He' s a tech CEO. He meets dozens of people every day. A hug, a handshake, a crowded elevator. There were a million innocent explanations.

But my heart, that traitorous muscle in my chest, began to hammer against my ribs. It knew. It remembered the hollow ache of abandonment left by my father, a wound that had never truly healed. That wound made loyalty not just a preference, but a necessity for my survival. Derek knew that. He had spent years convincing me he was the one man who would never leave.

"I will be your rock, Elaina," he'd promised, his charismatic smile and earnest brown eyes melting the walls I' d built around myself. "I will never, ever let you down."

The memory felt like a lie now, tainted by this single, shimmering thread of deceit.

I needed to ask him. I needed to see his face when he explained it away, to let his reassurances wash over my fear. I walked out of the closet, the suit jacket still in my hand, my steps silent on the plush carpet. His study door was slightly ajar, and I heard voices from within. It was Derek and his best man, Mark.

I paused, my hand raised to knock, when Mark's laughter floated out, laced with a cynical edge.

"Seriously, man? Ten days before the wedding? You're playing with fire."

My blood ran cold. The air thickened, pressing in on me until it was hard to breathe.

"It's not a big deal," Derek' s voice was smooth, confident, the same voice that had whispered promises to me just last night. "It' s just a pre-marital fling. A final taste of freedom."

A strangled sound escaped my throat, but I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle it. My body went rigid, every muscle screaming in protest.

"A 'taste of freedom'?" Mark sounded incredulous. "The 'taste' is a social media influencer with half a million followers. Cory Pennington is not exactly discreet."

A wave of nausea crashed over me. Cory Pennington. I knew the name. Her perfect, surgically enhanced face and impossibly toned body were all over Instagram, usually draped in designer clothes and leaning against luxury cars. Derek had even liked a few of her posts, claiming he was just "admiring the photography."

"She's a firecracker," Derek said, a low chuckle in his voice that made my stomach clench. "Exactly what I need right now. A little excitement."

"And Elaina?" Mark' s voice was softer now, tinged with something like concern. "What about her? She' s a good woman, Derek. She' s been through enough."

The silence that followed stretched for an eternity. The world seemed to stop spinning. I held my breath, praying, begging for him to say the right thing. To defend me. To defend us.

"Elaina is... predictable," Derek finally said, and the word landed like a physical blow. "She's wonderful, of course. Loyal. Kind. But ever since her father left, she's had this... reservation. This quiet sadness. It's exhausting sometimes. I need someone who is just fun, no strings attached. Cory is that. Once we' re married, I' ll be the perfect husband. This is just getting it out of my system."

My vision blurred. The walls of the hallway seemed to close in on me. He had taken the deepest wound of my soul, the very trauma he had sworn to protect, and twisted it into an excuse for his betrayal. He wasn't just cheating on me; he was blaming me for it.

The suit jacket slipped from my numb fingers and fell to the floor in a silent heap.

The love I had for him, a warm and steady flame I had nurtured for six years, was extinguished in that single, brutal moment. All that remained were cold, hard ashes.

I turned and walked away, my movements stiff, robotic. I didn't run. I didn't cry. A chilling, methodical coldness settled over me.

I went back to our bedroom, pulled out my laptop, and booked a one-way ticket to Portland, Oregon. I had an old apartment there, a safety net my mother had left me, one I' d kept despite Derek' s insistence that we sell it. "You don't need a backup plan when you have me," he'd said. The irony was a bitter pill.

The flight was for ten days from now. Wedding day.

He wanted a taste of freedom. I would give him a lifetime of it.

And I swore to myself, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that Derek Gomez would never see me again.

Continue Reading

Other books by EstelleCramail

More
The Perfect Victim: Playing The Billionaire's Game

The Perfect Victim: Playing The Billionaire's Game

Modern

5.0

I was the crown jewel of the Harmon family until the trust fund froze and my world turned to ash. Now, I’m just a girl in a vintage dress I can’t afford, standing in a crowded club, waiting to destroy the man who thinks he owns me. Everything changed when my ex-fiancé, Carter Sterling, didn't just break our engagement, but blocked the money meant for my brother’s medical care. He wanted to see me crawl back to him, broken and desperate, so he could remind me that I was nothing without his name. I didn't crawl; I staged a masterpiece of a breakdown. I shattered glass, screamed about his cruelty, and cowered on the floor until the entire city saw him as the monster he truly was. Carter’s reputation was dead within minutes, but the victory felt hollow because I was still penniless and alone in the cold rain. I realized that in this world, being a victim is just a role you play until you’re strong enough to become the villain. I was tired of being hunted by dogs like Carter, and I knew the only way to survive was to walk straight into the lion’s den. I stood at the iron gates of the Grimes estate, soaked to the bone and clutching a secret that could bring the city to its knees. Isadore Grimes is a man who eats people like Carter for breakfast, and I didn't come to him for mercy. "I’m not here for your money," I told him as the security cameras zoomed in on my face. "I'm here to offer you a better deal than your fiancée ever could." I wasn't just planning to get my inheritance back. I was going to steal the life of the woman who tried to destroy me, one calculated move at a time.

Contract Bride: Rising From The Shadows

Contract Bride: Rising From The Shadows

Modern

5.0

I was hired to be the "cure" for the Stuart family’s reputation, a wife whose only job was to manage the emotional risks of Casper Stuart’s cold-blooded empire. My life was governed by spreadsheets and compliance reports, and my value was measured solely by my ability to remain a silent, perfect asset. On our second anniversary, Casper didn't come home for dinner; instead, a Page Six alert showed him with a Victoria's Secret model at Soho House, his hand possessively on her back. When he finally returned, he didn't offer an apology, but a clinical reminder of my "obligations." I soon discovered he had given my three-million-dollar anniversary bonus—a pink diamond necklace—to his mistress, while tossing me a cheap bracelet his assistant had picked out. When his mother offered me a two-hundred-million-dollar settlement to disappear, Casper tore the contract to shreds in front of me. He whispered that he had bought up every cent of my family’s medical and gambling debts, turning my marriage into a life sentence of indentured servitude. To prove his power, he kicked me out of his car in a rainstorm twenty miles from the city, leaving me to walk home barefoot while he drove off with my dog. "Tell her you want to stay," he had commanded in front of his mother, using my mother’s life as leverage to keep his "portfolio" intact. I stood in the mud, shivering as the rain washed away the mask of the supportive wife, realizing that to the Stuarts, I wasn't a human being—I was a line item that could be liquidated or crushed at will. But Casper forgot one thing: I am an actress, and I’ve finally landed the role of a lifetime. I’m done managing his risks; I’m about to become his greatest liability.

The Unlikely Ally's Vengeance

The Unlikely Ally's Vengeance

Romance

5.0

A faint blue line on a pregnancy test confirmed the dream I' d nurtured for four years: twins. I, Sarah Miller, an architect, was about to surprise Mark Johnson, the man I loved, the man who had pulled me from the wreckage of grief after my parents' suspicious death, the man whose real estate empire I had meticulously helped build. But when I reached the exclusive downtown club, laughter spilled from the private room, and a voice asked, "When are you and Lisa Chen making it official?" My world shattered as Mark' s confident voice, stripped of all warmth, replied, "Sarah? Sarah was a means to an end. A very useful tool." Then came the true horror: "She has no idea I was the one who made sure that old farmhouse of hers had a little electrical \'accident.\' Best investment I ever made." He killed them. The man I loved, my savior, was my parents' murderer. Everything I believed was a lie. The twins I carried, conceived in a deceit, were just leverage for him, a means to an heir Lisa couldn' t provide. The overwhelming betrayal, coupled with a searing pain in my abdomen, sent my vision blurring. I stumbled out into the cold, hard rain, racing toward my parents' graves, only to collapse in a pool of blood. The hospital confirmed my worst fear: I had lost the babies. I lay there, numb and broken, until a nurse revealed my unlikely rescuer: David Johnson, Mark' s estranged uncle, the man Mark had ruthlessly driven out of his own family business. He was the one who collected my cracked phone, its wallpaper a perfect picture of a perfect lie, with his stern, disapproving gaze in the background – a witness I had always ignored. This man, haunted by the same demon, would become my unlikely ally. Mark had taken everything from me: my parents, my children, my name, my work. Now, I would take it all back.

The Jilted Wife's Ultimate Comeback

The Jilted Wife's Ultimate Comeback

Modern

5.0

My marriage to Harrison Sterling III was a political merger, a meticulously designed union between two powerful D.C. dynasties. I was Ellie Vance Sterling, the poised, pragmatic wife, dedicated to power and legacy, not fleeting romance. Everything changed when Harry was "rescued" by Skyler Reed, a common waitress who boldly followed him back to our world. She was loud, disruptive, and claimed Harry's love, threatening to expose our family's carefully crafted image. When Skyler triumphantly announced her pregnancy, I calmly declared my own, ensuring my son's place as the legitimate heir. But the true horror unfolded when I discovered a secret: an "heirloom" bracelet, given to me and other Sterling wives, actually contained compounds to suppress fertility. It meant my accidental breakage of the bracelet allowed my conception, revealing a chilling family conspiracy to control who bore heirs. Then came the fire, deliberately set in my wing of the house-a terrifying attempt to erase me and my unborn son from existence. How could my own husband, bound by contract and public duty, attempt such a heinous act? The revelation shattered any remaining illusion of family loyalty, replacing it with a burning certainty of cold-blooded betrayal. With my son's life and our dynastic future at stake, I made my decision: I would invoke the Vance family's formidable protection, rise from these ashes, and secure my child's legacy, no matter the brutal cost.

The Husband's Hidden Empire

The Husband's Hidden Empire

Romance

5.0

Our tenth anniversary was supposed to be a romantic surprise, a special night at a chic downtown hotel. Instead, I found Ethan there, shirtless on the edge of the bed, with Chloe, a young woman barely out of college, looking flustered in a hotel robe. My world shattered as his gaze flickered, murmuring it was a "drunken mistake." Then, Chloe dramatically wailed about her lost virginity, prompting Ethan to declare he "had to be responsible" for her, completely dismissing our ten years together. The betrayal deepened when I later found their chat messages, exposing years of calculated financial deception and mockery: he' d let me fund our life on my teacher's salary, all while he and Chloe secretly built a multi-million-dollar gaming empire. The final, depraved blow came in a package: my old miscarriage records, alongside the meticulously preserved body of Whiskers, my beloved cat who' d vanished months prior. I collapsed, the world spinning, battling a raging fever that blurred days into a nightmarish delirium. How could the man I cherished, the partner I poured my entire heart and savings into, be capable of such chilling cruelty, such a systematic destruction of my sanity and life? But as I drifted close to death, clinging to the unwavering comfort of my old flame, Liam, a fierce, cold spark ignited within me. I wasn't just Sarah, Ethan's victim; I was Sarah, and I was going to fight back, expose their lies, reclaim my stolen future, and finally find my way home.

You'll also like

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book