Luna By Blackmail

Zara's POV 

The day I was buried alive didn't start with screaming; it started with breakfast. Sunny-side eggs, burnt toast, and silence. I sat at the kitchen counter in my white robe, my hair was damp from the shower, watching Ethan scroll through his phone like I didn't exist. We had been married for three years, and I still looked for crumbs of affection in the man I once called the love of my life. 

"Ethan?" He grunted as I placed his coffee beside him. No thank you, no glance or smile. 

Ethan hadn't touched me for months. I should've known something was wrong, but when you've been unloved long enough, indifference feels like normal. 

That morning, I kissed his cheek, and he flinched. Hours later, I had no idea that I would be clawing my way out of a shallow grave, buried alive by the same man I'd sworn to love and the women I trusted the most. 

I don't remember the exact moment I died, only the parts that mattered. Jade's laugh, Mara's smirk. Ethan's hands on my throat. They didn't bury me deep, just enough to forget me, but the earth isn't quiet when you're still breathing it presses on your ribs, fills your mouth, and steals your scream. 

I woke up choking on dirt. At first, I thought it was a nightmare, then the taste of soil and blood, the pain throbbing in my skull, crushed ribs, and lungs gasping.  I screamed, but only the earth heard me. 

My nails clawed upward, fingers split, and my knuckles bled. I fought like something feral and reborn, and when I broke through the soil, it was not a gasp of relief, it was a vow. They should have buried me deeper. 

I hadn't meant to come home early, I left work with takeout and tired hope. I was always the one trying to fix our broken marriage. Ethan had been cold for over a year. We used to talk about babies, vacations, and threesomes. Ethan wanted one, and I said no; that was the start of his silence. But I still loved him. I still believed I could fix this. 

 The house was too quiet. There was no music, no lights, and no Ethan pretending to work. Then I heard it, moaning, then laughter. 

Not two voices, but three. I dropped the food and walked upstairs, heart pounding. I opened the bedroom door, and the world I knew shattered. 

Mara, my sister, was riding Ethan, her head thrown back in ecstasy, hair wild. Her nails raked down his chest as she bounced on his cock like she owned it. 

Jade, my best friend, was sprawled beside them, legs spread, her wrists bound with pink satin cuffs. Jade was gasping, Ethan's hand was between her thighs, fingers thrusting deep, a silver vibrator humming at her entrance, and his mouth latched to her breast, sucking like he was starved. Their laughter was erotic and cruel. 

My husband, Ethan, groaned like he was in heaven. The same man who flinched at my touch now thrust into Mara like she was his only source of air while devouring Jade's body like he'd waited years for her. Nathan never touched me like that. He never begged to taste me, never even looked interested. 

I stood frozen. Jade saw me first, her gaze locked on mine, and she grinned. 

"Well, shit. She's early." 

Mara turned, still moving on Ethan. "Hi, sis," she said sweetly. "You want to join? You always said no before; I bet you regret that now." 

I couldn't speak. 

Ethan didn't stop. He looked straight into my eyes and said, 

 "You shouldn't have come back, Zara." 

"I... I live here," I whispered. 

He pulled out of Mara lazily, wiped his hand on the sheets, and stood naked. 

"You always ruined the fun," he said. "Always too prude. Always so proper." 

Jade blew a kiss at me, her breasts were still exposed, and her wrists were still tied. "And now that your daddy's money's in Ethan's name..." 

Mara climbed off the bed, her skin glowing with sweat. "You're just dead weight, Z. And lucky us, you're worth more gone." 

My heart dropped. "Why?"