He Murdered My Father For Her

My fiancé, Archer, left me at the altar 98 times for the same woman, Kennedy. Each time, she'd orchestrate a new disaster, and he'd rush to her side, leaving me in a wedding dress to face the humiliation alone.

But I always forgave him. Years ago, when I was a bullied college student on the verge of jumping off a bridge, he saved me. He became my hero, my protector, the man I owed my life to.

Tonight, I overheard the truth. "You used her," Kennedy said. "You orchestrated her father's 'accident' to get me his liver."

Archer's reply shattered my world. "She was just a means to an end. It was always you."

He didn't just use me; he murdered my father for her. Then, to appease Kennedy's jealousy, he tried to kill me with a seafood allergy, kicked me off a cliff, and left me for dead.

But I survived. Rescued by my former mentor, I erased my identity and became a top scientist on a deep-space mission. Four years later, I'm back, and this time, I won't be a pawn in their game. I'll be the one who ends it.

Chapter 1

Allyson Cote POV:

"Just run, Allyson. Run and never look back."The words echoed in my head, a chilling whisper against the backdrop of my shattered reality.

I stood outside the dimly lit study, my heart a leaden weight in my chest, listening to the conversation I was never meant to hear.

Archer, my fiancé, the man I' d put my entire life on hold for, was confessing his undying love for another woman.

Not just any woman, but Kennedy Simon, the one who had systematically dismantled my life, piece by agonizing piece.

My career at NASA, once a brilliant trajectory among the stars, had been paused for him.

For us. For a future I now knew was a meticulously crafted lie. I was a genius astrophysicist, but love, or what I thought was love, had blinded me.

Archer had always played the part of the devoted fiancé. He was charming, wealthy, a tech CEO with a smile that could disarm anyone.

When he first mentioned Kennedy, it was with a dismissive wave of his hand. "She's just a troubled old friend," he'd said, his tone laced with what I thought was genuine annoyance.

"A chaotic shadow from my past I can't quite shake."

He painted her as a disturbed woman, prone to erratic behavior.

He told me stories of her extreme actions, how she' d once crashed his car into a tree, just because he' d had dinner with another woman.

How she' d spread vicious rumors about him, sabotaged his business deals out of spite.

He made it seem like she was a burden, a frenemy he tolerated out of a twisted sense of childhood loyalty.

I believed him. I wanted to believe him.

My first wedding to Archer was a lavish affair, planned down to the last detail. I remember the white roses, the string quartet, the anticipation thrumming in my veins.

But just as I was about to walk down the aisle, my phone buzzed.

A picture.

Kennedy, her wrists slashed, blood blooming crimson against her pale skin, a cryptic note about Archer abandoning her.

The ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.

Archer, without a second thought, left me standing there. He rushed to her side, leaving me to face the stunned guests.

The wedding was off.

He came back later, teary-eyed and apologetic.

"She needs me, Allyson," he'd pleaded, his voice thick with a concoction of guilt and manufactured concern. "I promise, this is the last time. We'll have the perfect wedding, just for us."

I believed him. I always did.

The second wedding attempt, a smaller, more intimate ceremony, was interrupted by a bomb threat at Archer' s company, supposedly planted by Kennedy.

Archer, again, left me.

This time, I was alone in the quiet chapel, the uncomfortable stares of the few guests burning into my skin. The humiliation was a physical ache, deep in my bones.

This pattern repeated itself.

Ninety-eight times.

Each time, a new, increasingly elaborate disaster orchestrated by Kennedy, always ending with Archer abandoning me.

Each time, he would return, his face etched with false remorse, promising me a future where Kennedy was no longer a factor, a future of perfect, uninterrupted happiness.

And like a fool, I clung to those empty promises.

Tonight, that charade ended.

I heard Kennedy's voice, laced with a venomous sweetness, from behind the study door.

"You used her, Archer. You used her family for my liver. You orchestrated her father's 'accident' to get me that transplant. Don't lie to me. Didn't you always love me, not her?"

The words hit me like a physical blow.

My father.His "accidental" death.

The life-saving organ transplant that followed. All of it a lie. My legs buckled. The world tilted on its axis. Archer, the man who had supposedly loved me, had murdered my father. For her.

Then Archer's voice, soft, intimate, a voice I' d never heard him use for me. "Yes, Kennedy. Always you. She was just... a means to an end."

The air left my lungs. My entire body went cold, then numb.

The man I loved, my hero, was a monster.

My father's memory flashed before my eyes, then the image of Archer's face, twisted with a twisted loyalty to Kennedy.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent. I turned, my movements stiff, robotic. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stay. There was no going back.

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers shaking, and dialed the only number that mattered now. Dr. Elliott Nolan. My former mentor at NASA.

"Elliott," my voice was a broken whisper. "I need out. The deep space mission. Is there still a spot?"

His voice, usually calm and measured, was now grave. "Allyson? What happened? Are you okay?"

"No," I choked out a laugh that was half-sob. "But I will be. Just tell me, is it still possible? The five-year mission? Erasing my identity? Complete isolation?"

A pause. "It's highly classified, Allyson. You'd be off the grid. No contact. For five years. It's a clean slate, but it's absolute."

"Good," I said, my voice hardening with a new, terrifying resolve. "I'll take it. All of it."

When I hung up, the strength left my legs. I sank to the floor, my back against the cold wall. My life, my brilliant career, my love-all sacrificed, all for a lie. I, Dr. Allyson Cote, once hailed as a prodigy in astrophysics, had let myself become a pawn.

I remembered Archer's grand proposal, under a sky full of manufactured stars he'd rigged in his private observatory. It had felt so real, so romantic. He was always so good at theatrics.

The first time I heard about Kennedy, it was from one of Archer's friends at a party. "Archer's old flame," they'd joked, "she's a real piece of work. Caused him endless trouble." I'd dismissed it, confident in Archer's love.

Then came the incidents.

Kennedy crashing his dates, sending threatening messages, even leaking embarrassing photos of him to the press. Archer had always been swift to dismiss her, to assure me she was nothing but a nuisance.

"She's just desperate for attention," he'd said, his arm tight around me. "Don't worry, I'll handle it. She's going to be sent away, out of the country."

And she had been, for a time. A brief respite, a false sense of security. Archer promised me. "No one else, Allyson. Just you. She won't be a problem ever again."

But now she was back. With a vengeance. I remembered her audacious return, crashing one of Archer's high-profile board meetings, flinging herself at him, marking him with a lipstick kiss, then shooting me a triumphant, hateful glance.

"You won't marry him, Allyson," she'd hissed at me later, her eyes glinting with malice. "I'll make sure of it."

I should have seen it then. The obsession. The control. The deep, twisted connection between them.

But I was too deeply entrenched in the fantasy Archer had built.

Too in love, or so I thought, to see the truth.