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The CEO's Betrayal: My Escape Novel Cover

The CEO's Betrayal: My Escape

After eight years, I watched the man I loved, Ethan Morgan, celebrate a success he' d stolen from me. He stood on stage with his assistant, Bella, giving her the credit and the massive commission that was rightfully mine. His CEO smile, once reserved for me, was now exclusively for her. He claimed it was punishment for my mother' s engagement to his wealthy father, calling her a gold-digger and me a co-conspirator in her "scheme." Later, he texted that he was "out of town for a few days." But on Instagram, I saw the truth: a selfie of him and Bella on his private jet, on a romantic getaway. In the background of their photo was a small, silver-framed picture of us from our trip to Santorini. The violation was absolute. Our entire life together was a lie. That was it. I sent my resignation, effective immediately, and booked a one-way ticket to Oregon. I was done being his victim.
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Chapter 5

Alissa POV:

My muscles tensed. Home.

The word felt like a trap. A cage.

I remembered the easy rhythm of our evenings, the shared meals, the comfortable silence. The home I had built, piece by piece, with him.

But that home was gone. Replaced by a hollow shell, filled with Bella's perfume and Ethan's casual cruelty.

He hadn't been home in days. Not really. He' d been on a "spontaneous getaway" with his assistant.

"I need you to come home, Alissa." His voice was insistent now, a subtle command beneath the strained plea.

"Why?" I asked, my voice flat. "Your car's fine. What happened to your driver?"

He hesitated, his gaze darting away. "Just... get in the car."

My mind raced. He wanted me to go back to that apartment. To his playpen. With her scent.

No. Never again.

My flight was in a few hours. My entire escape plan depended on this moment.

I needed to get away, without a trace.

He watched me, his eyes narrowed, searching for something. A tell.

I had to play along. Just long enough to slip away.

"I'm starving," I said, a sudden thought striking me. "I haven't eaten all day. Can we get something first?"

His brow furrowed for a second, then smoothed out. "Fine. There's that new Italian place downtown. You like pasta, right?"

Perfect. Downtown was close to the airport. And busy.

We drove in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. The city lights blurred past, a kaleidoscope of fleeting colors.

My heart hammered against my ribs. How do I do this? How do I disappear?

Ethan glanced at me occasionally, his jaw tight. He seemed on the verge of speaking, then stopped himself.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "About that... that bracelet. And the scarf. Bella was just... she meant well, Alissa."

His phone buzzed. A jarring interruption.

He glanced down. His face tightened. Bella.

I subtly adjusted the rearview mirror. I saw the name clearly. Bella Russo.

I leaned forward, pretending to adjust the air conditioning. My finger brushed the hazard light button, flipping it on. Then off.

He answered the phone, his voice laced with forced patience. "Bella? What's wrong?"

Her voice, high-pitched and tearful, filtered through the speaker. "Ethan! Oh, thank god! I'm stranded! My car broke down on the highway, and it's so dark! I'm all alone!"

Stranded. I almost rolled my eyes. Bella was never truly alone.

"Don't worry," Ethan said, his voice softening, "I'm on my way."

He hung up, his gaze intense. "I have to go. Bella needs me."

I nodded, my expression neutral.

"Here," I said, pulling over to the curb. I unlocked the car doors. "You can take my car. It's faster."

He blinked, surprised. "You're just... letting me take your car?"

"I'm still hungry, Ethan," I said, my voice flat. "I'll wait for a cab. You go."

He still hesitated. "Alissa, I can't just leave you here."

"I'll be fine," I insisted. "Go. She needs you."

He scowled, a flash of irritation crossing his face. "Fine. But you can walk home after you eat."

He got out, slammed the door, and walked around to the driver's side.

"Just leave the keys in the usual spot when you're done," he called out, his voice sharp.

I watched him drive away, the familiar SUV disappearing into the night traffic.

My flight. My escape. It was all falling into place.

I pulled out my phone. My ticket was confirmed. My bags were already at the airport.

I looked at my watch. Plenty of time.

I slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove straight to the airport.

As I checked in, my phone buzzed with a flurry of texts from Ethan.

Where are you?

Are you at the restaurant?

They said you didn't show up.

Alissa, stop playing games!

Then, a photo. A plate of greasy pasta. I ordered for you. It's getting cold.

I felt a cold, hard satisfaction. He still thought he knew me. He still thought he was in control.

The flight attendant announced the final boarding call.

I took a deep breath.

I scrolled to Ethan's contact, hit "Block," and then switched my phone to airplane mode.

I put on my eye mask, leaned back in my seat, and slept soundly for the first time in months.

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