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The Fiancé He Severely Underestimated Novel Cover

The Fiancé He Severely Underestimated

My fiancé Jax and I built our Las Vegas empire from nothing. After fifteen years, he betrayed me for a "pure" girl named Ember, sacrificing a piece of our empire for her. He told our friends I was "too ruthless," and that he only felt "human" with her. He arrogantly believed I could never leave, that I needed our empire-and him-too much. To prove her victory, Ember found my mother's last keepsake, a small music box, and shattered it at my feet. The man I'd sacrificed everything for saw me as a cold, calculating machine. He thought I was ruthless? He hadn't seen anything yet. He believed I couldn't leave him. He was about to lose everything. I picked up the phone and made a single call to his estranged, powerful family in D.C. "Send him home," I said, my voice ice. "He's all yours."
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Chapter 7

I don't know how long I lay there, curled on the cold, wet concrete, the rain washing over me, the city lights a blurry indifference. When I finally dragged myself back to my penthouse, every muscle screamed in protest. My injured arm throbbed relentlessly, a constant reminder of the chaos, the betrayal, the pain. I stumbled through the opulent rooms, each one feeling vast and empty, a monument to a life I no longer recognized. I wanted nothing but oblivion. I ripped off my soaked clothes, leaving a trail of wet fabric on the marble floor. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger – hollow eyes, dirt-streaked face, hair plastered to my forehead. I barely recognized the woman staring back. I crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head, hoping to disappear, to drown out the echoes of Jax's words, Ember's lies, Harris's threats. Sleep, however, was a cruel mistress. It brought vivid nightmares of falling cars, shattered music boxes, and Jax's back turned to me as he walked away with Ember. Just as a sliver of dawn pierced through the heavy curtains, a persistent ringing cut through my fragile peace. The doorbell. It chimed again, a jarring intrusion. I wished it would stop, wished the world would just leave me alone. But it didn't. It rang again, then again, insistent. Grudgingly, I dragged myself out of bed. Every movement was an effort, my body aching, my head pounding. Who in their right mind would be at my door at this ungodly hour? I peered through the peephole. A tall, impeccably dressed man stood there, his face stern but etched with a subtle concern. Kane Briggs. Ember's "Uncle Kane." My stomach dropped. I opened the door a crack. "What do you want, Mr. Briggs?" My voice was hoarse, raw. His gaze swept over me, taking in my disheveled appearance, my bandaged arm. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. "Ava Sandoval. You look unwell." His voice was deep, authoritative. "I'm here to offer you... compensation. For the distress my niece has caused you. A gesture of goodwill." He held out a slim, leather-bound envelope. "I don't want your money," I said, my voice barely a whisper. The room swayed. I clutched the doorframe, trying to steady myself, but the world tilted violently. The pain, the exhaustion, the festering wound of betrayal-it all converged, stealing my breath. "Ava!" Kane's voice was sharp, urgent. His strong arm caught me as my knees buckled. Darkness consumed me. I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of hushed voices, the cool touch of a cloth on my forehead, the scent of antiseptic. A hand, surprisingly gentle, stroked my hair. A distant memory of a soft touch, a lullaby whispered in a language I couldn't quite remember. My mother? No. It was too soft, too caring. I pushed the warmth away, the sudden intimacy jarring my already fractured senses. My heart, encased in ice, recoiled from the unexpected comfort. I couldn't afford to feel. Not now. Not ever again. The craving for a mother's touch, buried deep for so long, was a dangerous weakness. When I finally awoke, the room was bathed in soft, filtered light. My head felt clearer, the throbbing pain a dull ache. I was in my own bed, the sheets crisp and clean. But I was alone. The fleeting warmth, the gentle touch, had been a dream. A cruel illusion. A soft knock. The door opened, and Kane Briggs entered, a tray laden with food in his hands. He looked as impeccable as ever, his eyes still holding that strange intensity. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice softer than before. He set the tray on my bedside table. "You need to eat." I stared at the food, then at him. "Why are you here, Mr. Briggs?" "Consider it... a delayed apology," he said, his gaze steady. "My niece's actions were beyond reprehensible. And her claims against you, utterly baseless." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You defended yourself. Bravely." Before I could respond, my phone, lying on the nightstand, buzzed insistently. Carlisle. I picked it up, my heart sinking at the urgency in his voice. "Boss! It's Carl. He's been taken. Gonzalo Harris's men. They grabbed him from his safe house. They want you." My blood ran cold. Carl. My loyal head of security, my most trusted confidante, the man who had been with me since the very beginning. He was family. A protective fury, sharp and lethal, surged through me, eclipsing all other pain. My eyes, which had been dull with despair, now blazed with a dangerous fire. "Where are they?" I demanded, my voice a low snarl, the exhaustion completely gone. "The old docks, boss. The abandoned warehouse on Pier 7. It's a trap." "Then I'm walking right into it," I declared, throwing off the covers. "Get my car ready. And tell anyone who tries to stop me that they'll regret it." My gaze met Kane Briggs's, a silent challenge in my eyes. "Stay out of my way." He simply watched me, a strange, calculating expression on his face. The abandoned docks were a desolate landscape of crumbling concrete and rusting metal, shrouded in the pre-dawn gloom. The air was thick with the smell of salt and decay. My footsteps echoed ominously as I approached the warehouse, a lone figure against the industrial backdrop. I pushed open the heavy metal door. Inside, it was a tableau of my worst fears. Carl hung from the rafters, hands bound, his face bruised and bloody. Gonzalo Harris stood below him, a sadistic grin on his face, surrounded by his men. And there, beside Harris, stood Jax and Ember, their faces pale, their eyes wide. A fresh wave of nausea hit me. He brought her here. To this. "Well, well, if it isn't the Queen herself," Harris sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Right on time. And alone, I see. Expected. Your 'loyal' King abandoned you, didn't he?" His gaze flickered to Jax and Ember. "But look what he ran to. My little family project. Ember, come here, sweetie." Ember, looking terrified, hesitantly moved to Harris's side, clinging to his arm. Jax stood frozen, his eyes wide, fixed on my bruised face, on Carl's battered form. "What do you want, Harris?" I demanded, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "Justice, Ava. For what you did to my family. For what you did to me." He gestured to his bandaged kneecap. "And for what you did to Ember." His eyes glinted. "You hurt my family. Now, I hurt yours." He nodded to his men. One of them produced a knife, holding it to Carl's throat. "Don't you dare touch him," I snarled, my hands clenching into fists. "What happened to your head, Ava?" Jax's voice was a low murmur, filled with a sudden, dawning horror as he finally registered my injuries. "And Carl... my god, Carl!" "Your concern is a little late, Jax," Carl rasped, his voice weak but defiant. He looked at me, a silent message of reassurance in his eyes. "Don't listen to him, boss. Don't give him anything." "Oh, but she will," Ember piped up, her voice surprisingly steady, considering her earlier terror. "She has to, for her precious little guard dog. Or maybe," she continued, a cruel smile touching her lips, "she can take his place. Let her feel what it's like to be helpless, to be broken." My blood ran cold. Ember. The innocent artist. She was reveling in this. "She deserves it," Ember insisted, her eyes blazing with a chilling malice. "She's always been ruthless, cold, uncaring. She betrayed Jax! She drove him away! She tried to steal our life!" She clutched her stomach. "She even tried to hurt our baby!" "Shut up, Ember!" Carl coughed, a spray of blood escaping his lips. "Ava never betrayed anyone! She bled for him! She built his empire with her bare hands! She took every ugly hit so he wouldn't have to!" His voice was thin, but filled with a fierce loyalty. "He's the one who abandoned her! For a manipulative little snake like you!" Ember shrieked, her face contorted with rage. "You lie! He loves me! He chose me! She's the monster!" She turned to Harris, her eyes wide with a desperate plea. "Uncle Gonzalo, make her pay! Make her feel the same pain!" Harris chuckled, a dark, unpleasant sound. "An excellent suggestion, Ember. Yes. An excellent suggestion." He looked at me, then at Carl. "Two choices, Ava. Your loyal dog here, or the life you've built. Choose. Or I kill them both." His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. "Unless… another option appeals to you. Your 'pure' little rival here," he gestured to Ember, "wants you to experience her pain. To take Carl's place. To be broken." "Don't do it, Ava," Carl whispered, his eyes pleading. "It's not worth it." Jax, who had been frozen in horror, finally stirred. "No! Harris, don't! This is between you and Ava! Ember has nothing to do with this!" His voice was frantic, desperate. He looked at Ember, then at me, a dawning horror in his eyes. "Oh, but she does, Jax," Harris said, a cruel smile on his face. "She's my family. And you, my boy, you're just a fool." He pulled out a gun, aiming it at Carl's head. "Tick-tock, Ava. Make your choice." Ember watched, a strange, triumphant glint in her eyes. "Choose, Ava. And remember what Jax said about you." My heart pounded against my ribs. Carl. My rock. My family. But the empire… the legacy we built. For a fleeting second, I saw my life flash before my eyes. The struggles, the sacrifices, the ambition that had driven me to this point. And now, Carl was paying the price for my choices. "He's right, Ava," Carl rasped, his voice barely audible. "Let him go. It's just business. You're stronger than this." He was trying to protect me, even now. "No!" Ember screamed, her voice shrill. "She has to suffer! She has to lose everything! Just like she made Jax suffer!" She turned to Harris. "Uncle, make her take his place! Make her feel what it's like to be powerless!" Harris chuckled, enjoying the spectacle. He lowered the gun from Carl's head, then aimed it at Carl's leg. "Last chance, Ava. Your friend's leg, or your empire. Your choice." "Don't you dare!" Jax shouted, trying to lunge at Harris, but his men held him back. Ember, seeing her chance, stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a malevolent glee. "Or, Uncle, you could just let her feel the knife's edge. Just a little. For what she did to me." She pulled a small, wicked-looking switchblade from her pocket, purchased, no doubt, in her "pure" new life. "Let her feel the fear. The helplessness." She extended the knife towards Carl, her eyes fixed on me, a terrifying triumph in their depths. "Ember, no!" Jax roared, struggling against his captors. "What are you doing?!" I watched, numb, as Ember advanced on Carl, the knife gleaming in the dim light. The betrayal, the manipulation, the sheer evil emanating from her, was overwhelming. My body felt heavy, my mind a blank. Carl, my loyal, brave Carl, was about to pay the price for my inability to see the true monster in front of me.
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