Seven Years Gone: My Ex's Revenge

Seven Years Gone: My Ex's Revenge

last updateLast Updated : 2024-09-29
By:  Chubby  Completed
Language: English
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Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

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Chapter 1

In dad's office, he was pinned down by a wall of muscle. Susanna Johnson's bodyguards held him in place like he was nothing. His hair, once dark, was now white as snow. He shook with the weight of his fury, but age had softened his voice. He tried to stay calm, his words low, almost pleading. "Susanna, you've already destroyed everything I've worked for. My company's gone. You've ruined it. Isn't that enough? Haven't you had your revenge?" He forced a shaky breath. "Think back to when we were on good terms..." Susanna rose slowly from the couch, her heels clicking against the floor. She kicked dad hard, sending him sprawling before tossing a wedding invitation at him with a flick of her manicured fingers. "Good terms? Drag Matthew out here, make him get on his knees at my wedding and beg for forgiveness in front of everyone, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let you off the hook." Guilt tore at me as I watched my father suffer, knowing I had abandoned him to face this horror. But Susan

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Cris Land
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2024-10-20 18:21:55
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14 Chapters

Chapter 1

In dad's office, he was pinned down by a wall of muscle. Susanna Johnson's bodyguards held him in place like he was nothing. His hair, once dark, was now white as snow. He shook with the weight of his fury, but age had softened his voice. He tried to stay calm, his words low, almost pleading. "Susanna, you've already destroyed everything I've worked for. My company's gone. You've ruined it. Isn't that enough? Haven't you had your revenge?" He forced a shaky breath. "Think back to when we were on good terms..." Susanna rose slowly from the couch, her heels clicking against the floor. She kicked dad hard, sending him sprawling before tossing a wedding invitation at him with a flick of her manicured fingers. "Good terms? Drag Matthew out here, make him get on his knees at my wedding and beg for forgiveness in front of everyone, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let you off the hook." Guilt tore at me as I watched my father suffer, knowing I had abandoned him to face this horror. But Susan
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Chapter 2

The bodyguards stepped forward, gripping iron rods in their hands and tapping them against the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm that echoed in the room like a death knell. Dad's eyes widened in sheer terror, his body trembling as he tried to scramble away. However, they yanked him back by his shirt, dragging him across the floor and dumping him at Susanna's feet like discarded trash. I lunged, trying to wrap my arms around dad. I was desperate to shield him, but it was like I wasn't even there—my arms passed through him as if I were nothing. I was helpless to stop the iron rods that came crashing down. Blow after blow rained on him, the dull thuds filling the room. Dad curled into a ball as he shielded his head, his body slick with cold sweat. The occasional grunt of pain would escape his lips. "Stop! Susanna, stop!" I screamed, begging her, but she did not hear me. She did not even flinch. I wanted to tear her apart, to stop this madness with my own hands, but I could not touc
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Chapter 3

"No, please don't hurt Yvan. He's just a kid."Dad, who had been beaten to the brink of collapse, found a burst of strength and clung to Susanna's legs, begging. Susanna kicked him off and snapped at the bodyguards. "Don't touch me, you useless piece of trash! You guys, bring the kid here."Dad, with his leg wounded, tried to hobble after the bodyguards to stop them but could only watch them go. Shaking, he managed to pull out his phone and dialed my brother. The moment the call connected, Susanna kicked the phone out of his hand. Dad crawled after the phone, leaving a smear of blood on the ground. "Yvan, find the cops and hide, now!" Susanna towered over him, stepping on the hand that held the phone, stamping down hard. Dad cried out in pain as his hand was forced open, and the phone dropped to the ground. "Yvan, isn't it? You can't hide from me. Get your brother to show up, and maybe I'll think about sparing you."She stared at dad's face, which was twisted in pain. "Y
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Chapter 4

Yvan, my brother with autism, struggled to communicate and could only scream when overwhelmed. Susanna used to be so gentle with him, digging through endless research to help us teach him how to express himself. Now, those memories seemed like a distant dream. Yvan had not lost control like this in years. The bodyguards dragged him in by his arms as his legs kicked the air. He was desperately trying to break free from their hold. His screams were raw with fear and panic, but no one even tried to calm him. His terror only grew. The Susanna who once whispered softly to my brother, patient and kind, was gone. Now, she glared at him with disgust. "Shut him up. His screaming is giving me a headache," she snapped, her voice icy. Dad, despite his shattered leg, moved toward Yvan as fast as his battered body would allow. The bodyguards, caught off guard, let go of Yvan. Dad quickly embraced him, whispering soothing words. But Yvan kept thrashing, his fear too great. "Yvan, don't be s
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Chapter 5

With a casual flick, Susanna tapped Yvan's cheek with the dagger, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. She glanced at it, disgust crossing her face. Then, she nodded to the bodyguards. "Start the clock." Dad clenched his jaw, and with a surge of adrenaline, he charged at her while shouting, "Yvan, run!" The bodyguards were quick though, stepping between them and slamming dad to the ground before he could even get close to her. Susanna barely flinched, her expression cold as ice. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?" she sneered. "Take him to the window. Let's see how brave he is when he's hanging by a thread." She turned her gaze toward Yvan, her voice dripping with cruel amusement. "And you, kiddo, your dad just broke the rules. Guess who's gonna pay for that?" Before I could react, she grabbed a dagger and, with terrifying precision, slashed it across Yvan's finger. "Stop!" I screamed, fury boiling inside me. However, I was powerless. I was nothing more than a
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Chapter 6

That was when York Smith swooped in, showering Susanna with everything his wealth could buy—luxury cars, bouquets of roses, glittering necklaces. Money flowed like water for him, and he made sure everyone saw it. Susanna was not impressed by the flashy displays, though. She had her dignity. She was not the kind of woman to sell her soul for cash. What mattered most was that she was deeply in love with me back then. York, frustrated and spurned, turned his sights on me. That was when I found out the truth—he was behind my family's downfall. Rage boiled inside me, and I was ready to tear him apart. However, before I could even land a punch, his bodyguard took me down with a single blow, leaving me groaning on the floor. York stood over me, his smug grin like a knife twisting in my gut. "Susanna loves you, doesn't she?" he taunted. "And you love her. But what's that love really worth?" He crouched down, his voice dropping to a whisper that chilled me. "Her dad's dying, Matthew.
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Chapter 7

The memory faded, slipping away like smoke as I was pulled back to the present, where the real nightmare was unfolding in front of me. Just then, the door slammed open, jolting me fully back to reality. The room seemed to freeze as York shoved my mother through the door, his grin dripping with malicious satisfaction. I caught a glimpse of the ring on his finger—identical to the one Susanna wore. A bitter laugh escaped me. So, they were a pair now. Susanna was marrying York. "Susanna, here's the last one from their family. I've brought her here," York said, pride laced in every word. His eyes gleamed with twisted pleasure. Seven years ago, my gruesome death broke my mother, driving her into the grip of Alzheimer's. I had been watching her slip in and out of clarity over the years, torn apart by guilt and sorrow. Sometimes, she did not even remember my name; other times, she cried for me like I had just died. Susanna's gaze flicked toward them, her expression curling into disgu
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Chapter 8

Susanna's face twisted with rage. She raised her hand, ready to strike dad, but he did not flinch. His voice, though pained, was steady as he continued, "Seven years ago, when Matthew heard you were leaving, he tried to make it to the airport to see you one last time. But fate had other plans—a drunk driver in a speeding truck left him no way to escape." I still remember the day I died. I had just found out about Susanna's flight details. Despite everything, I needed to see her one last time, just to catch a glimpse. I told myself I would not approach her and would not even let her see me. It was just for closure. Fate had other plans, though. A truck lost control, smashing through the guardrail as it headed right for me. The pain hit like a freight train—my body felt like it was tearing apart, my organs rupturing. I knew it was the end. In the hospital, as I lay dying with my parents by my side, I confessed the truth about the scheme York and I had concocted. "If Susanna ever
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Chapter 9

Dad's face went pale, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Matthew would never hurt your dad. He went to the hospital, yes, but only to visit him. Nothing more." "Seriously?" York scoffed, a smug grin spreading across his face as he pulled out his so-called proof—a voice recording. "You're still going to deny it with all this proof staring you in the face?" The audio crackled to life. Sure enough, it was my voice—no denying that. York had twisted it beyond recognition though, cutting and splicing the conversation until it sounded like I had sold out for cash. The recording made it seem like I had arranged for some rich guy to take Susanna's dad's place for a kidney donation and then had Susanna kidnapped so that she could not see her dad one last time. In the chaos, York's men stirred up trouble at the hospital, telling Susanna's dad that he was holding her back. They claimed she would be married to me already if it weren't for him. To really nail it, they had a bank transfer from an a
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Chapter 10

"Dig it up!" Susanna's voice was cold, resolute. She did not believe dad's words, and nothing short of proof would stop her. Dad, drained and beaten, tried to stop her with what little strength he had left, but the bodyguards shoved him to the ground and pinned him down. Tears welled up in his eyes as he cried out helplessly, "Please, Susanna. Don't do this. Let Matthew rest in peace." His voice cracked with his pleas, but they fell on deaf ears. Inside, I felt nothing. Not surprise, not anger. I had seen how far Susanna had gone—this was just another step in her brutal revenge. If she could do this to my family, there was nothing she would not do. As the grave was unearthed, the foul stench of decay hit the air. My body was far gone, decomposed beyond recognition. Susanna, covering her nose, took one look and froze. Even after all those years, my bones lay broken, but there was still enough of me left to make out my face. On my finger, barely holding its shape, was the simpl
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