on Co

just a phone call. It was a staged car crash, her car

g Archer' s name. The paramedics were

eft me in my pristine white gown, trembling at the altar,

"token of eternal love," lay forgotten on

rporate espionage claim that threatened to ruin his reputation. Kennedy had conven

urned to me, "I have to fix this, Allyson. It's for our future." He left me, ag

ho brought constant drama. The humiliation stung, deep an

ster, I would c

r would come back, his eyes wet, his voice hoarse with fabricated despair. "Allyso

cry, and I, broken and exha

ness rooted d

tless bullying, framed for a cheating sca

air, contemplating an end to the pain. Archer, then just a casual acquaintance, had found me. He' d t

just save

me my p

else did. He pulled strings, hired lawyers,

, showering me with gifts, attentio

ntific pursuits, becoming the solid groun

gratitude, made me forgive him, again and again. Each failed wedding, each public slight, each br

l to

e, mingled with something sickly sweet – Kennedy's perfume. I pressed my ear

with possessiveness, "do you truly love tha

it. The real question. The

. "Kennedy, you know... she was useful. Her

y father's liver. It was his legacy, his influence that

her's perfect liver, a match for mine? Was that just 'useful' too, Arche

ccident. It was a calculated murder. Archer, the man who held me when I cried at his funeral,

evoid of emotion, a casual cruelty that pierced me deeper than any knife. "She think

my deepest trauma, my moment of utter despair

turning playful. "My little acts of chaos? Did you secretl

sound. "She always came back. Alway

g a gasp. Convenient. My love, my

o desperate for your affection, she probably doesn't even realize you two

er than any confession. It confirmed the cold, sterile reality of

cative. "An old family friend, a CEO in Europe. He's been chasing me for years. It woul

body st

ce was rough, laced with a sudden, fierce possessiveness

n iron fist clen

said, "You belong to me." And