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On my release day Novel Cover

On my release day

Wrongfully imprisoned for five years, Julian finally regains his freedom only to find his former life in ruins. Driven by a need for justice, he seeks the person who framed him, eventually reuniting with Elena. She possesses vital information regarding the truth of his conviction. Together, they unravel a dark conspiracy of betrayal. Julian soon faces a difficult choice: should he pursue a path of revenge or embrace the hope of starting over?
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Chapter 2

I had nowhere to go in this city.

Alone outside the convenience store, I sat drawing my outer coat tight around me.

A pair of shoes stopped in front of me. After a long moment, I looked up.

Theo took off his jacket and threw it over my head.

"Three years inside, and you still haven't learned? Your stubbornness is pointless. Come with me."

"I stabbed your precious girlfriend. Shouldn't you be strangling me?"

"You've paid for what you did. If you just repent..."

"Repent?" I laughed. I genuinely wanted to hit Theo. I knew exactly where to strike to cause the most pain, thanks to my time inside.

That handsome face, once the object of my deepest affection, meant nothing now.

The moment he opened the door for Alfie holding Ruby, the moment he walked away while steel nails were driven into my flesh – every ounce of my love for him had withered away.

"But you knew," I said, "You knew Ruby tried to kill me. You saw. And you took the surveillance footage, didn't you?"

Theo’s face drained of color. He stared at me, stunned.

I knew this because Ruby had told me. She wanted my pain to be absolute – unloved by my brother, betrayed by my childhood protector.

Perfect! She’d succeeded brilliantly.

"Keep telling yourself those lies," I said, shoving his jacket back at him. "Spare me your hypocritical excuses. Leave me here. Let this be the end."

Alfie was smoking. Seeing me approach, he crushed the cigarette under his heel.

"Finished talking to him?" Alfie asked, walking towards me.

"Yeah. Isn't that what you wanted, Alf?" I called him 'Alf' sweetly, just like old times.

I obediently got into the car, letting Alfie drive me to an apartment.

Ruby wasn't there. This was one of Alfie's private places, unknown to her.

Alfie was impressive. In three years, he’d gained everything.

I could never forget how desperately poor he'd been, how ruthlessly ambitious he was to climb higher.

He didn't love Ruby, but Ruby could give him everything he craved.

Even if it meant betraying the family that took him in, even if it meant sacrificing his beloved sister.

"You'll stay here for now," he said. "I'll arrange to send you abroad."

"Do you love me, Alf?"

"From today on, no one will ever hurt you again. I'm strong enough to protect you completely now." Alfie knelt before me, his gaze intense. "You can trust me, Alice. Completely."

So I began living in that house. Everything was arranged to my taste, even Alfie’s clothes seemed to mimic Theo's style. He was trying desperately to become the man he thought I loved, even if it meant losing himself.

Alfie was gone during the day, only returning at night to hold my hand tightly.

I couldn't push him away. I had to appear to like him.

My days were spent mostly in front of the mirror, practicing my expressions, repeating over and over, "Alfie, I like you."

I had to make myself believe it, to make the act convincing for him.

One day, I overheard Alfie on the phone. His voice was tight with impatience, almost threatening. He said a name: "Ruby."

Standing outside the door, I listened to his suppressed fury and eventual, reluctant concession. Alfie was going to accompany Ruby to try on wedding dresses tomorrow. Their wedding was imminent, yet Alfie sounded devoid of any joy.

I only caught half the conversation before slipping back into bed.

Soon after, Alfie returned. The other side of the bed dipped as he slid in and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

The earlier anger was gone, replaced by a chilling coldness.

"Can't sleep?"

"No. Slept too much during the day."

Alfie patted my head and began telling me a story, just like he used to when I couldn't sleep as a child.

I forced myself to relax, knowing Alfie would keep talking indefinitely if I stayed awake.

He was that obsessive, almost pathologically so.

It reminded me of a winter years ago when I'd sprained my ankle. Alfie blamed himself for not protecting me.

He insisted on carrying me to and from school, running up and down stairs between classes to fetch water. Even after I healed, he cleared every potential obstacle from my path and still followed me everywhere.

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