The Ghost Bride's Game Of Revenge

The Ghost Bride's Game Of Revenge

Mystic Rose

5.0
Comment(s)
60
View
13
Chapters

After surviving five years of hell in a deep-sea simulation, I finally escaped, battered and broken. I fought my way back for one reason: my fiancé, Derek. But when I found him, he sealed me in a cave and left me to die. "Just three more days, Eva," he pleaded, his hand holding my pregnant former assistant's. "Our wedding is on Saturday." My own parents, who had adopted her as their new daughter, believed her lies that I was a monster. They watched as Derek broke my ankle and hand, and my father shattered my ribs. They left me for dead, trapped and alone, after I had spent five years clinging to their memory. But I didn't die. I was rescued by a mysterious benefactor who gave me a new life and erased my pain. A year later, when a guilt-ridden Derek tracked me down, begging for a second chance, I smiled. It was my turn to play a game.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

After surviving five years of hell in a deep-sea simulation, I finally escaped, battered and broken. I fought my way back for one reason: my fiancé, Derek. But when I found him, he sealed me in a cave and left me to die.

"Just three more days, Eva," he pleaded, his hand holding my pregnant former assistant's. "Our wedding is on Saturday."

My own parents, who had adopted her as their new daughter, believed her lies that I was a monster. They watched as Derek broke my ankle and hand, and my father shattered my ribs.

They left me for dead, trapped and alone, after I had spent five years clinging to their memory.

But I didn't die. I was rescued by a mysterious benefactor who gave me a new life and erased my pain. A year later, when a guilt-ridden Derek tracked me down, begging for a second chance, I smiled. It was my turn to play a game.

Chapter 1

Eva POV:

My life, what was left of it, ended the day I found him again. Five years. Five years of hell to get back to a world that didn't want me anymore.

The submersible was gone. One moment, the deep-sea currents were a dance of shadows and light. The next, a violent shudder rocked us, and the abyss swallowed everything. They called it an anomaly. I called it a new beginning. My beginning.

Derek, my fiancé, my rock, must have been broken by my loss. He was. I heard the stories later, whispered in the cold, sterile rooms of my recovery. He tried to end it all. A desperate, jagged cut across his wrist, a crimson promise to follow me into the deep.

He swore to my parents, his eyes wet and red, that he would spend every waking moment, every penny, the next five years of his life, searching. He told them he' d rather die than live without me. His voice, raw with grief, echoed in the empty halls of their home. My parents, shattered by their daughter's presumed death, clung to his words like a lifeline.

"Five years," he choked out, his hand shaking as he gripped my father's arm. "If I don't find her, you'll never see me again."

He meant it. He spent the money. Every last cent of our shared savings, his inheritance, even his research grants went into charting expeditions, hiring experts, buying submersible equipment. He chased every whisper, every phantom signal. He lost weight. His clean-shaven face grew a rough beard, his eyes hollowed out, dark circles perpetually bruised beneath them. He looked like a ghost, haunted by my absence.

My parents watched him, their own hope flickering. After three years, they couldn't take it anymore. They stopped funding the searches, their faces etched with a grief I couldn't imagine. They moved on, adopting a young woman, a former lab assistant of mine, Casey, into our family. A new daughter, a new life, built on my grave.

But Derek didn't stop. Not until the fifth year. That's when his relentless, desperate hunt finally paid off.

I saw the searchlights first. A blinding beacon cutting through the underwater gloom, a promise of rescue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a forgotten rhythm. I was weak, starved, my clothes hanging in tatters, my skin a patchwork of scars. But I was alive. And I was coming home.

I stumbled out of the cavern, my feet barely supporting me. The air smelled of salt and damp earth. I saw him. Derek. He looked older, more worn, but it was him. My Derek.

A sob tore through my throat, a sound I hadn't made in years. It was a cry of pure, unadulterated relief, of a love that had defied death. I ran, my broken body propelled by a surge of adrenaline, towards him.

He stood there, frozen, his eyes wide, a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher in their depths. Shock, maybe. Disbelief.

Then, his hand moved. Not towards me, but towards a small, remote detonator clipped to his belt.

A deafening roar ripped through the air. The ground beneath me trembled violently. Rocks, massive and jagged, rained down from above, sealing the entrance to the cave. My cave. My prison.

I watched, numb with horror, as the exit vanished behind a wall of twisted metal and pulverized stone. Dust and debris filled the air, choking me.

"Just... three more days, Eva," his voice was strained, barely audible over the settling debris, but the words cut through me like a physical blow. His face was a mask of agony, but his eyes were resolute. "Please. Just three more days."

My mind froze. My body, already battered and bruised, crumpled to the cold, damp ground.

Continue Reading

Other books by Mystic Rose

More
Betrayed by Her Mate: The Awakening of the White Wolf

Betrayed by Her Mate: The Awakening of the White Wolf

Werewolf

5.0

I unlocked my mate's tablet to check the time, but a notification caught my eye: Project Luna. Curiosity turned to horror as I opened the file. It wasn't a diary. It was a spreadsheet. Task #104: Public display of affection. Status: Complete. Task #215: Gift pearls. Status: Complete. I wasn't Jaxon's soulmate. I was a quarterly projection inherited from his dead brother to secure the pack's assets. The reality of his indifference nearly killed me at our engagement gala. When the massive chandelier snapped above us, Jaxon didn't shield me. He used my body as a launchpad to dive toward his mistress, Janice. I was crushed under lead crystal and silver wire, my flesh burning from the poison. While I lay bleeding on the marble floor, Jaxon carried a scratch-free Janice to safety, screaming at the guards to ignore me. But the physical scar on my arm was nothing compared to what I found next. I hacked into Janice’s private account. There was a marriage certificate from Vegas, dated six months ago. On the exact night I miscarried our child alone on the bathroom floor, begging him to answer his phone, he was marrying her. He let our pup die while he pledged his life to another. When he tried to buy my forgiveness with a necklace, only to let Janice snatch it from his hand, I finally snapped. I threw his money in his face, rejected the bond, and vanished to Norway. Jaxon thought I would die without him. He didn't know that the Alpha Supreme of Europe had been waiting a lifetime to find me.

Her Pain, His Blindness

Her Pain, His Blindness

Romance

5.0

A sharp, stabbing pain woke me. 3:17 AM. Alone. I reached for my husband, Mark, but he wasn' t there. My desperate call for help was answered by Lily, his goddaughter, her voice laced with annoyance. "Mark is busy. Eleanor isn' t feeling well, so he's here with me." I tried to explain about the emergency, the searing pain in my abdomen. She dismissed it as drama and hung up. Abandoned, I crawled to the phone and dialed 911, whispering, "I think I'm dying." At the hospital, the doctor' s grim face confirmed my worst fear: a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. I was bleeding internally and needed emergency surgery. Alone, I signed the consent form, my hand trembling, tears blurring Sarah Miller into a solitary figure. When I reached Mark hours later, fresh out of surgery and groggy from anesthesia, his words were cold, clipped. "What is it now, Sarah?" Before I could explain, Lily's frantic voice in the background cut me off. "Mark, come quick! Mom\'s monitor is beeping again!" He hung up, choosing her over me, over our lost baby, over my near-death experience. The love I thought was unbreakable shattered into a million pieces. The next morning, lying in the hospital bed, a cold, hard clarity settled over me. I had to make him understand. I sent him my medical reports, hoping the undeniable proof would cut through his blindness. His reply, however, sealed my fate: "Sarah, this has gone too far. Using a fake medical report to guilt-trip me is a new low." He called me manipulative, a liar. He chose her over me, again. The fight drained out of me. I typed one word: "Okay." It was over. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that I was done.

You'll also like

The Billionaire's Medicine: His Silent Obsession

The Billionaire's Medicine: His Silent Obsession

Sutton Horsley
5.0

My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon. The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup. I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head. The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage. I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times. Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book