Her Dead Husband's Betrayal

Name: Her Dead Husband's Betrayal
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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My husband, Mark Reynolds, was dead. The news hit me like a physical blow, but the real shock came when the funeral home director handed me a notice. Mark owed five million dollars. Five million. We were always struggling, barely making rent. Now, he was gone, leaving me and our five-year-old son, Leo, with an impossible debt. My best friend, Jessica Miller, put her arm around my shoulder, her voice dripping with concern. "Liv, you can' t do this. You have to renounce the inheritance. Think about Leo." I knew this moment. The exact moment it all went wrong before. In my past life, I listened. I signed away everything, desperate to escape the debt. But the debt collectors came anyway. They didn't care about the law. They took Leo. They sent me a small, bloody box. A single, tiny finger bone. My son was murdered. I was trafficked, sold into a hellhole in Myanmar. Years later, I saw a news report. Mark wasn't the broke man I knew. He was the founder of a multi-billion-dollar global conglomerate. His estate, tens of billions, was going to his sole heir. A young boy, standing next to his mother. The mother was Jessica Miller. The boy was her son, Ethan. My best friend, my husband, their son. My life, my poverty, my son' s death-it was all a lie. A sick game they played to ensure her child got everything. The rage burned me alive. I found a way to end my life, seething with impotent hatred. And then, I opened my eyes. The sterile scent of the funeral home. Leo, alive, his small, warm hand in mine. Jessica, standing right in front of me, her face a mask of perfect concern. "Liv, you can' t do this," she said. "You have to renounce the inheritance. Think about Leo." It was the same day. The same moment. This time, I would not make the same mistake. This time, I would claim what was mine. I would burn her world to the ground.

Family Betrayal Revenge Rebirth/Reborn Kickass Heroine

Chapter 10

07-09 16:17

Introduction

My husband, Mark Reynolds, was dead.

The news hit me like a physical blow, but the real shock came when the funeral home director handed me a notice.

Mark owed five million dollars.

Five million. We were always struggling, barely making rent. Now, he was gone, leaving me and our five-year-old son, Leo, with an impossible debt.

My best friend, Jessica Miller, put her arm around my shoulder, her voice dripping with concern.

"Liv, you can' t do this. You have to renounce the inheritance. Think about Leo."

I knew this moment. The exact moment it all went wrong before. In my past life, I listened. I signed away everything, desperate to escape the debt.

But the debt collectors came anyway. They didn't care about the law.

They took Leo. They sent me a small, bloody box.

A single, tiny finger bone.

My son was murdered. I was trafficked, sold into a hellhole in Myanmar.

Years later, I saw a news report. Mark wasn't the broke man I knew. He was the founder of a multi-billion-dollar global conglomerate. His estate, tens of billions, was going to his sole heir.

A young boy, standing next to his mother.

The mother was Jessica Miller.

The boy was her son, Ethan.

My best friend, my husband, their son. My life, my poverty, my son' s death-it was all a lie. A sick game they played to ensure her child got everything.

The rage burned me alive. I found a way to end my life, seething with impotent hatred.

And then, I opened my eyes.

The sterile scent of the funeral home. Leo, alive, his small, warm hand in mine. Jessica, standing right in front of me, her face a mask of perfect concern.

"Liv, you can' t do this," she said. "You have to renounce the inheritance. Think about Leo."

It was the same day. The same moment.

This time, I would not make the same mistake. This time, I would claim what was mine.

I would burn her world to the ground.