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When I stopped my wife’s assistant, Duard, from torturing a cat, a viral video turned me into a hero overnight. The public outcry was so intense that our company, which my wife and I co-owned, had to fire him.
My wife, Jesse, seemed grateful, thanking me for opening her eyes. To celebrate, she cooked a romantic dinner and proposed a toast to our new beginning. The next thing I knew, I woke up on a cold concrete floor, my hands bound tightly behind my back.
Jesse and Duard stood on a catwalk above me, livestreaming to the world. Below, surrounding me in a massive, deserted warehouse, were a dozen starving pit bulls, their ribs showing through their skin.
"This is justice, Kai," she said, her voice stripped of all warmth. "For what you did to Duard."
While the live chat called me a psycho, she told the world that I was the real animal here. She called Duard a kind soul and watched as the world turned against me. My loving wife was justifying my murder to a global audience.
Then she gave me a choice: get on my knees, live on camera, and beg Duard for forgiveness.
"Do that," she said, "and maybe I'll call them off."
I looked from her cold eyes to Duard’s sadistic grin, and then at the hungry dogs. A surge of defiance cut through my fear.
"Wrong answer," she hissed. "Duard, open the gates."
Chapter 1
The video was everywhere. A man, my wife' s assistant, Duard Mosley, was holding a stray cat by the scruff of its neck. The cat was hissing, spitting, its claws scratching at the air. Duard just smiled that slick, empty smile of his and tightened his grip.
I was the one who stopped him. I was just leaving my office, heading home, when I saw him in the alley behind our building. I didn't think, I just acted. I grabbed his arm, forced him to let the cat go, and told him to get the hell away from it.
Someone recorded the whole thing. Ballard Reid, a guy I vaguely knew, who later told me he had his own history with Duard. He posted it online.
Within hours, I was a hero. "Tech CEO Kai Sampson Saves Helpless Animal." My face was on every news site. Duard's face was right there beside mine, but for a very different reason. He became a monster overnight.
The company I built, the one my wife Jesse Justice was a partner in, had no choice. The public pressure was immense. We fired Duard.
I expected Jesse to be furious. She had always doted on Duard, treated him more like a favorite son than an assistant. He could do no wrong in her eyes.
But she wasn't mad. She came to me that night, her face calm, and put her arms around my neck.
"You did the right thing, Kai. I was blind to what he was. Thank you for opening my eyes."
I was so relieved. I felt a wave of love for her, for her supposed clarity. I thought, finally, our biggest point of conflict was gone. We could finally be happy.
To celebrate, I planned a romantic dinner at home. I cooked her favorite meal, opened a bottle of expensive wine.
She raised her glass, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight. "To us. To a new beginning."
I drank. The wine tasted a little off, a bitter aftertaste, but I dismissed it. I was just happy. Then the room started to spin. My limbs felt heavy, my thoughts turned to mud. The last thing I saw was Jesse' s face, her smile no longer warm, but cold and sharp.
I woke up to the smell of rust, feces, and hunger. My head throbbed. I was on a cold concrete floor, my hands tied behind my back. The space was a massive, deserted warehouse.
And I wasn't alone.
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