Three years of marriage, and I was basically a ghost. Traumatized, silent, and totally invisible.
My husband swore to protect me, then cheated right in my face. After making me sign the divorce, he literal-backed a bet with his boys: "She’s my dog. Without me, she can't even buy a sandwich."
Stormy night. He called just to trash me, triggering my panic attack. I was on the floor, shaking and choking in the dark.
Right when I was passing out, my burner phone went crazy. Next thing I knew—bam! My door was kicked open. It was Damien, the big-shot boss who’s had my back online for two years.
The cage is smashed. Am I walking into another trap, or am I finally gonna rule my own life?
