From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight

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nt a strange warmth through me. It was a stark contrast to the jarri

h, after the forced wedding, after the merger was secured. He had been drinking, a

urred, his eyes wild and unfocused, accusing.

the dark edge he always teetered on. "Christian, it w

e lunged, pushing me hard. I stumbled backwards, hitting the sharp corner of a mahogany table. A searing p

g slightly, watching me. His eyes, usually so expressive, were cold and empty, devoid of any concern.

sticky and warm on my fingers, but the pain in my chest was far worse. In that moment, something inside me had fra

was an equipment failure! Are you saying I sabotaged the car? Are you honestly blami

had looked at me with a chilling clarity. "My parents forced my hand, Alyssa," he' d confessed, his voice devoid of emotion. "They said if I didn't marry you, the me

alive when your true love wasn't?" My voice was trembling, but a strange strength was building within me. "Y

lammed the door behind me, and drove myself to the emergency room. That night, our marriage, or whatever twisted thing i

, gently tending to

an, not even in the beginning when he was supposedly "saving" me. My eyes welled up,

ed, my voice thick with unshed

le smile on his lips. "It's no troubl

er, a woman in a crisp white uniform, carrying a medical k

he asked, her gaze falling on me w

m. I just brought her in," Gordon explained, his voice calm. "

y pulse, listened to my heart, and gently palpated my bruis

rse Elaine confirmed a few minutes later. "A good night's rest

. He escorted Nurse Elaine to the door, their voic

eful now, knowing I was safe, warm, and no longer alone. A sense of quiet reli

us to try and reach shore right now. We'll wait it out. Would you like me to

I hadn't died, furious that I had defied Christian, furious that I had jeopardized their precious merger. They wouldn't c

sset, a pawn in his corporate game. My mother, Mrs. Goodman, a social climber who valued appearances and we

f my "selfless sacrifice" or, more likely, my "reckless disregard."

ons, gaslighting, emotional abuse. He had drained every ounce of joy and self-wort

don, a desperate plea in my eyes. I reached out, my hand resting gently on his arm, my fingers clinging to the wa

see into the depths of my soul, into the raw, exposed wounds I tried so hard t

y work, anonymously funded my research years ago when I was a struggling software engineer. Could it be? The tho

, his voice low, a warning wrapped in a question. "Alyssa, if you stay, it won't b

tion, or perhaps the sheer weight of his words. I inhaled deeply, taking in the sc

firm with conviction. "I'm prepared. I

subtle shift, a fleeting expression, but in that moment

o life, and the boat began to move, slowly cuttin

burning up. The lingering effects of hypothermia, finally catching up to me. My legs gave out, and I

k, a familiar voice, sharp and laced with false concern, cut

ist

ng, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and defiance. I stood

ce. "Still playing the hero, I see? Did you f