Married To My Abuser: I Became My Own Replacement
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On a rain-soaked night, he dragged me to a black tombstone and forced my face into the mud. "Bow to her! Tell her you're nothing but a cheap impostor!" With mud filling my mouth, I stared at the photograph of "beloved Elena" on the gravestone and couldn't help but laugh. Damon, have you lost your mind? The dead wife you've been obsessing over is the very woman you're trampling beneath your feet like a dog. Three years ago, I survived the inferno that was meant to kill me. With a surgically altered face and a body covered in burn scars, I returned to his side, willing to be the stand-in he despised. What he doesn't know is that embedded in the flesh beneath my collarbone lies our engagement ring, melted by the intense heat of that fire. When the truth finally unraveled and he knelt before me, sobbing like a madman, I coldly delivered my verdict: "Hell is empty. All the devils are here."
Catalogue·Chapter 10
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