From Prisoner to Phoenix: His Regret

For three years, I thought I was happily married to Gavin, a struggling MMA fighter. I worked two jobs to make ends meet, tending to his wounds, believing his love was the only thing keeping him going, especially since a car crash had wiped my memory clean, leaving him as my entire world.

Then, scrubbing our tiny kitchen floor, the local news flashed a headline: "Tech giant Gavin Hawkins, CEO of Hawkins Industries, announced his engagement today to Vice President Heidi Daniel." The man on screen, standing in front of a skyscraper, embracing a stunning woman, was my husband.

He wore a tailored suit, a stark contrast to the bruised fighter I knew. The small, carved wooden bird I' d painstakingly made for our anniversary rested against his chest as he kissed her deeply, possessively. My stomach twisted, my head pounded, and the steak I was cooking for him began to smoke, filling our cramped apartment with a bitter, burning smell.

I stumbled out, hailing a cab to Hawkins Industries, desperate for answers. There, I saw him laughing with Heidi, oblivious to my presence. He silenced my call, texting, "In a meeting, baby. Can't talk. Be home late tonight. Don't wait up for me. I love you."

The words blurred through my tears. A sob escaped, loud and raw. A flash of pain shot through my head, and then, the memories flooded back: the car crash wasn't an accident, Heidi Daniel was the driver, and Gavin, my father's protégé, had orchestrated this entire lie, this cruel test of my loyalty.

He had taken everything-my identity, my wealth, my family-and thrown me into poverty, just to see if I would still love him unconditionally. He was a monster, and I was his prisoner. But a cold, hard resolve settled in my chest: I would burn his world to the ground, starting by faking my own death.

Chapter 1

For three years, I thought we were happy.

We lived in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment in the worst part of the city. The paint peeled off the walls, and the pipes rattled every night.

I worked two jobs, waitressing by day and cleaning offices by night, just so we could make rent.

My husband, Gavin Hawkins, was a struggling MMA fighter. That's what he told me. He came home most nights bruised and exhausted, and I would carefully tend to his wounds, my heart aching for him.

He was the most devoted husband I could imagine. He said my smile was the only thing that kept him going.

I had amnesia. A car crash a few years ago wiped my memory clean. Gavin found me, took care of me, and told me we were married. I had no reason to doubt him. He was my entire world.

Tonight, I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor of our tiny kitchen. I' d saved up for weeks to buy a steak for Gavin' s dinner. He had a big fight coming up, he said.

The small, second-hand TV in the corner was on, the local news droning in the background.

"Tech giant Gavin Hawkins, CEO of Hawkins Industries, announced his engagement today to Vice President Heidi Daniel," the anchorwoman said brightly.

I glanced up, annoyed at the interruption.

Then I froze.

The face on the screen was my husband's.

He was standing in front of a skyscraper, wearing a tailored suit that probably cost more than our apartment. His arm was wrapped around a stunning woman in a sharp business dress. They were both smiling for the cameras.

"No," I whispered. It couldn't be.

It was a mistake. Someone who just looked like him.

But the camera zoomed in. The sharp line of his jaw, the small scar above his left eyebrow from a childhood fall he'd told me about, the intense way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

It was him.

My Gavin.

He leaned in and kissed the woman, Heidi Daniel. It wasn't a quick, polite kiss. It was deep. Possessive.

My stomach twisted. My head started to pound.

Then I saw it.

Around his neck, on a thin silver chain, was a small, carved wooden bird.

My breath caught in my throat.

I had carved that for him. I' d spent a month' s worth of my tips on a special piece of wood and painstakingly carved it myself. I gave it to him for our anniversary last year. He' d cried and promised he would never take it off.

And there it was, resting against a thousand-dollar suit, while he kissed another woman on national television.

A wave of dizziness washed over me. I gripped the edge of the counter to keep from falling.

The steak I'd been cooking started to smoke, filling the small space with a bitter, burning smell.

I stumbled toward the door, grabbing my worn-out coat. I had to talk to him. I had to understand.

I ran out of the apartment building and hailed a cab, my hands shaking so hard I could barely pull the money from my pocket.

"Hawkins Industries," I told the driver, my voice cracking.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes lingering on my cheap clothes. "You sure, lady?"

"Just drive."

The building was a gleaming monument of glass and steel, a world away from my run-down neighborhood. Security guards stood at the entrance, their faces impassive.

"I need to see Gavin Hawkins," I said to the guard at the front desk.

He looked me up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I'm his... I know him."

"Mr. Hawkins is a very busy man. I'm afraid he doesn't have time for..." he trailed off, clearly meaning people like me.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. "Gavin, darling, the press is waiting."

It was her. Heidi Daniel. She was even more beautiful in person. She walked toward the elevators, her arm linked with Gavin's.

My Gavin.

He was laughing, his head tilted back. He didn't see me.

They stopped right in front of the elevator bank, waiting. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that made her blush and playfully hit his chest.

The world started to spin. Betrayal. It was a cold, sharp feeling that spread through my entire body.

The past three years... our life... was it all a lie?

My body felt weak, my legs about to give out. My stomach churned violently.

I pulled out my old, cracked phone. My fingers trembled as I dialed his number.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. I saw him pull it out, his smile fading as he looked at the screen. He glanced around the lobby, his eyes scanning the space.

For a second, I thought he'd see me. That our eyes would meet.

But he didn't. He silenced the call and slid the phone back into his pocket.

A text message came through a moment later.

"In a meeting, baby. Can't talk. Be home late tonight. Don't wait up for me. I love you."

The words blurred through my tears. A sob escaped my lips, loud and raw in the quiet lobby.

He was lying. He was standing right there, lying to my face.

Our entire life was a lie.

The sacrifices I made. The extra shifts I worked so he could afford his "training supplements." The way I stayed up all night worrying when he was "at a fight."

It was all a sick joke.

A flash of pain shot through my head, so intense it made me cry out.

And then, the memories came flooding back.

Not just of the last three years. But of everything before.

The car crash wasn't an accident.

I remember screaming as a truck slammed into my driver's side door. I remember Heidi Daniel's face in the driver's seat of that truck, a cold, triumphant smile on her lips.

I remembered my father. He was a brilliant scientist. Gavin had been his protégé, his most promising student. After my father died in a lab accident, Gavin had taken me in. He promised to protect me.

He was like an older brother at first. Kind, protective. He held me when I cried. He made sure I ate. He took over my father's company, Hawkins Industries, and built it into an empire.

He spoiled me rotten. Anything I wanted, I got. He said I was the only family he had left.

The relationship changed slowly. A lingering touch. A look that lasted too long. One night, he confessed he'd loved me for years. I was young, grieving, and he was my rock. I fell in love with him, too. It was a fairy tale.

Then Heidi Daniel came into the picture. A new VP at the company. Ambitious, beautiful, ruthless. Gavin was intrigued by her. He started spending more time at work, more time with her.

I was jealous. We fought. I told him he had to choose.

The last thing I remembered was screaming at him, grabbing my car keys, and storming out of our mansion. I was going to leave him.

Then the crash. Then darkness.

And then, I woke up in a run-down hospital with Gavin by my side, telling me I was his wife, Ainsley Lara, and we were poor, but we had each other.

He had created this entire life. This lie. This... test.

He didn't just let me believe a lie. He built it. He orchestrated it.

He ripped me from my life, from my own identity, and threw me into poverty just to see if I would still love him unconditionally. A twisted, cruel game to test my loyalty.

The pain in my head was unbearable. It felt like my skull was splitting open.

A security guard noticed my distress. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

I couldn't speak. I just stared at the man who had destroyed my life, who was now stepping into an elevator with his new fiancée, a woman who had tried to kill me.

As the doors slid shut, Gavin's eyes finally found mine across the lobby.

There was no recognition. No guilt. Just a flicker of annoyance, as if he were looking at a piece of trash someone had left on the floor.

My heart didn't just break. It turned to dust.

The pain in my stomach intensified, a sharp, twisting cramp that made me double over.

"Ma'am!" the guard shouted.

But I couldn't hear him. The only sound was the roar in my ears as my world collapsed.

I looked down at my hands, at the calluses from scrubbing floors and washing dishes. I thought of the man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for.

He wasn't a struggling fighter. He was a monster.

And I wasn't just his victim.

I was his prisoner.

A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest, replacing the pain.

He would not get away with this.

I would burn his world to the ground.

And I would start by faking my own death.