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The Price of His Perfect Life

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 648    |    Released on: 22/08/2025

eeped into

against the mountain air. She had no phone. No wallet. Just the clothes o

cidic. She choked it down. Panickin

she'd called them, lonely and overwhelmed, her mother had told her they'd turned her bedroom into a sewing

was

e but

left her

he pit of her stomach, pushing past th

a

e play God with her lif

on a mountain to teach her a lesson, and she would come crawl

had been

g was freezing to death on this mountai

cing shadows. Every snap of a twig in the woods

ceived under a lie, a chain meant to bind her to

his child be anothe

a grim, resolute calm. It was an act of mercy for a life t

bruised purple, she heard the sound of an e

s his

looked tired, but his expression was confident. Sm

tatue carv

at him, her eyes empty of the a

hink?" he asked, his voice lac

aid n

lare, don't be difficult. Get in the car. We'll go ho

side window. She leaned d

s eyes. He wasn't used to her being

he said. Her voice was

ened. "Don't b

ving you

o," he sneered. "You h

nothing than ha

ned skin a testament to his crue

tting rid o

move he hadn't anticipated. It was a variable he cou

n't dare,"

me," sh

ok back. The sun was rising, and for the first time in years, s

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The Price of His Perfect Life
The Price of His Perfect Life
“I was a top hand model, my hands insured for seven figures. They bought me a life in a sleek Central Park apartment and a diamond ring from my fiancé, Chase Strong. At my engagement party, he insisted I get a manicure from his high school friend, Karis. She soaked my hands in what she called a "new cuticle softener." It was acid. A week later, I found out I was pregnant. I thought a baby would fix the peeling skin and raw blisters, that it would fix us. But when I told Chase, his face was a mask of cold fury. He said a baby didn't fit his plan. He drove me to a desolate mountain, pushed me out of the car, and told me he was leaving me there to think about how easily he could take everything away. The man I was going to marry, the father of my unborn child, left me to die in the freezing darkness. He didn't just ruin my hands and my career; he wanted to break my spirit. But as the sun rose, something inside me shifted from fear to ice-cold rage. I would not let his child be another chain to bind me to my jailer. When he returned, expecting to find me broken, I looked him in the eye and told him, "I'm getting rid of the baby." Then I turned and started walking down the mountain, toward a life he could never touch.”