The Love From Vengeance

370: BROKEN BONDS

ARIEL’S POV

I stormed into my parents‘ elegant living room, a cloud of anger and betrayal churning within me. My hands trembled with disbelief as I brandished my phone, the glaring headlines announcing my supposed engagement to Luke burning into my consciousness.

“Mom, Dad, we need to talk,” I demanded.

They looked up, surprised, etching their features at the urgency in my tone.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” my mother asked, concern furrowing her brow.

I thrust my phone forward, the damning evidence of my supposed betrothal displayed on the screen.

“Explain this,” I demanded, my voice rising with each word,

Their guilty exchange confirmed my worst fears.

“We’re sorry, Ariel. We never meant for things to spiral out of control like this,” my father began, his voice

tinged with remorse,

But apologies were not what I sought. I needed answers.

“Sorry isn’t enough, Dad. Why have you destroyed my future?” I queried, my anger boiling over.

My mother reached out, but I recoiled, the sting of their betrayal too raw.

“I trusted you both. I thought you had my best interests at heart,” I accused the both of them. I was feeling

broken.

They hung their heads, unable to meet my accusing gaze.

“We only wanted what was best for you, Ariel. We thought…” my mother faltered, unable to finish her

justification.

you thought it was acceptable to manipulate me into marriage

me with a searing

social climbing game,” I

I turned away, weighed down by disappointment

this,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the tumult of

me. The weight of their betrayal bore down on me like a leaden cloak, suffocating me with its heaviness. Without another word, I fled from the living room, seeking solace in the sanctuary of my

locked it with a shaky hand.

370 BROKEN BONDS

cheeks unchecked, each droplet a testament to the pain and betrayal i felt

felt as though my heart had been torn from my chest, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that throbbed

agony.

something so cruel and manipulative? Did they truly

status?

a tempest, each emotion crashing against the fragile walls of my composure. I felt utterly alone, abandoned by the very

and support

and their decelt pressed down on

me beneath its oppressive weight. I struggled to catch my

wave of emotions that threatened

surrender to the torrent

gnawed at my insides. It was as though I were mourning

I had once envisioned, now shattered into a

there, cocooned in the

the ache in my chest remained, a constant reminder

world asunder.

sleep, my dreams haunted by visions of betrayal and broken promises. But even in slumber, there was no escape from the harsh reality of my shattered dreams and the bitter taste of betrayal that lingered

with apprehension, as I heard my mother’s voice urging me to open the door. With a reluctant sigh, I rose from my bed, every fiber of my being resisting the inevitable confrontation awaiting me on

pulled open the door, my mother’s worried expression greeting

let us in,” she

the urge to slam the door shut and shut out the world was almost overwhelming. But eventually, I stepped aside, allowing

my arms crossed tightly over my chest in a defensive gesture. I refused to meet their gaze, my anger simmering just beneath the

tentatively, her eyes brimming with tears. “Ariel, darling, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, reaching out