Savior Complex Chords Novels & Stories

The mayor was in a car accident and rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. My boyfriend, Joe Reid, wanted our junior colleague, Melissa Cross, to become the mayor's savior, so he convinced the entire department to delay the surgery while waiting for her. She was late because she had been making her special herbal drink. The mayor's life was hanging by a thread. If we did not act fast, we'd all be in serious trouble! I pleaded with them to start the surgery immediately, but all I received was accusations. "You're just jealous because Joe promised Melissa a permanent position. You're trying to ruin her chance to impress the mayor, aren't you?" I dropped to my knees and begged my colleagues. Only then, reluctantly, did they agree to proceed to the operating room. I served as lead surgeon with Joe and my colleagues assisting. After twelve hours, we finally saved Mayor Richard Carter's life. Afterward, our entire department received a massive bonus from the mayor. Both Joe and I were promoted. Yet on the night of my promotion, Melissa drugged me and had me locked in the hospital morgue's refrigeration unit, where I froze to death. Meanwhile, Joe led the entire department in lying to the police. "Kimberly Hayes had corrupt medical ethics. She stole credit for saving the mayor's life from Melissa to get promoted, then killed herself out of guilt." I died with my name destroyed. Melissa used this opportunity to secure her permanent position and even became department director with Richard's help. My father believed there was more to my death and fought for justice everywhere, but Joe had him committed to a psychiatric hospital where he was beaten to death by other patients. Only after death did I learn the truth. This was all a conspiracy between Melissa and Joe. Melissa was too afraid to be lead surgeon. They delayed everything just to replace me! When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day Joe led the entire department in waiting for Melissa before the surgery. In this life, I would not stop these ungrateful colleagues from destroying themselves.

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,