
The Ghost Bride's Game Of Revenge
After surviving five years of hell in a deep-sea simulation, I finally escaped, battered and broken. I fought my way back for one reason: my fiancé, Derek. But when I found him, he sealed me in a cave and left me to die.
"Just three more days, Eva," he pleaded, his hand holding my pregnant former assistant's. "Our wedding is on Saturday."
My own parents, who had adopted her as their new daughter, believed her lies that I was a monster. They watched as Derek broke my ankle and hand, and my father shattered my ribs.
They left me for dead, trapped and alone, after I had spent five years clinging to their memory.
But I didn't die. I was rescued by a mysterious benefactor who gave me a new life and erased my pain. A year later, when a guilt-ridden Derek tracked me down, begging for a second chance, I smiled. It was my turn to play a game.
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Chapter 5
Eva POV:
My mother' s eyes were red, her hand cupped over her nose, as if to ward off a stench. Not from the cave, not from the dust, but from me. I felt it, a visceral punch to the gut. This wasn't the comfort I craved.
"Eva," my mother said, her voice trembling, but not with grief for me. "We know everything. Casey told us how you hurt her again." Her gaze was cold, accusing. "Why did you come back? Just to cause more trouble?"
She stepped closer to Casey, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into a protective embrace. "Our sweet girl," she murmured, stroking Casey's hair. "You've been through so much."
Then she turned back to me, her voice hardening. "Wait three days, Eva. Just three days. Let them have their wedding. Then… then we' ll come back for you. When you' ve learned your lesson. And don't you dare try to take anything else from Casey."
My father stepped forward, his face, usually so warm and kind, was a mask of stern disapproval. His hand rested gently on Casey's uninjured arm, a rare tenderness in his touch, a tenderness he now reserved for her.
Casey. Their new daughter. The one who had replaced me, not just in Derek' s heart, but in theirs.
My eyes widened. My mouth opened, but no words came out. It was a silent scream.
"Mom? Dad?" I choked out, hot tears streaming down my face. "It's me. Your daughter. Your real daughter. The one you searched for, the one you mourned. How can you believe her over me? After five years?"
Casey, seeing my desperation, collapsed again. A sharp, theatrical cry escaped her lips. This time, it was worse. A dark, viscous liquid seeped from beneath her, staining the damp earth. Blood.
She writhed, clutching her stomach, then gasped, crawling towards the pile of rocks that sealed me in. "No, Eva, don't! I'll move them! I'll get you out! Even if it kills my baby, I won't let you hurt Mom and Dad anymore!" She clawed at the stones, her face contorted in a grotesque parody of sacrifice.
She grabbed my broken hand, the one Derek had crushed, and yanked it towards her, pulling me closer. "You deserve a happy ending, Eva! I don't! I'll sacrifice everything! Just… just don't hurt them! Don't ruin their lives because of me!" With a guttural sob, she used my broken hand to slap her own face, hard. Again. And again.
I stared, numb with horror, as she used my hand, my own flesh and blood, to inflict violence upon herself. The pain in my wrist was excruciating, the bone grinding against itself. I ripped my hand free, a desperate, reflexive gesture.
That was all it took.
My father roared. His foot connected with my ribs, a brutal, bone-shattering kick that sent me flying across the cavern. I slammed against the cold rock wall, my breath knocked out of me. A sickening crunch. My chest caved in.
I gasped, clutching my chest, the world spinning. My ribs, I knew, were broken. I tasted blood and dirt.
"You demon!" my father screamed, his voice shaking with a rage I had never heard. He shielded Casey, his body trembling with fury. "You kicked my daughter! You attacked my grandchild! You're dead to us, Eva! Dead!"
My mother, her face pale, echoed his words. "Casey is our daughter now. Our good daughter. You… you are nothing."
Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't make a sound. My throat was raw. My body felt like a broken doll. My father, the kind, gentle man who once taught me how to swim, had just broken my ribs for a lie. For a stranger.
My vision blurred. Dead to us. The words echoed in my head, a final, crushing blow.
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