My Husband's Funeral Was The Beginning Of My Revenge

l

oat burning as tears choked my voice.

ver the bed rail. "Look at yourself, Elen

u were something special, didn't you? You actually believed you we

swung open, and his father stepped inside,

long?" the old man grunted,

asked sweetly, pressing he

ire family had orchestrated this nightmare, systematicall

and respect. When his mother claimed she had a fatal kidney condition, I didn't h

they repaid

. Lucas had always been kind to me. Even after my husband supposedly "d

lying on a deathbed like a helpless dog," Lucas said. His voic

ught you would have died long before you became this pathet

rian asked, frowning s

ds up in defense. "You can't blame me. Elena was far too pret

ldn't possibly get any worse. But I was wrong. The one person I thought was my ally-the

ed, grabbing Lucas by the ear. "How did

ways pathetically loyal to anyone who showed her a little bit of warmth. Al

ian gasped in fake disgust before

p to my pillow. "I slipped something into her milk every night. She thought I was hel

bled home exhausted from working three backbreaking jobs to pay off Ad

ulsive trap designed to drug me s

sheets. The heart monitor went completely berserk, its loud, frantic beeping filling t

ucas added with a smug grin. "You l

ed life

s and rest in peace knowing the monsters who destroyed me we

paralyzed body. I wanted to drag every

na," Adrian spoke softly, stepping

ket. Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw

ed, a bright, handsome smile spreading across his

to my neck and plunged

the cold darkness swallowed me whole, the last thing I saw was the family standing over my

as

old sweat drenched my skin. My heart was hammering against m

d around the room, my mind still tangled in the fog

as I...

isinfectant was gone, replaced by the faint, familiar scent of expensive rose perfume and warm sunlight. I

happenin

d, my thumb trembling as I unlocked the screen. I stared

e right. It w

ntire years, to the exact afternoon

augh. Was I dreaming? Had the poison finally dri

rough the curtains too warm, the ache in my he

, for this to be some cruel trick of my dying brain. Fate, or whatever force stil

ond c

oss my face as a wave of pure, unadul

I won't be their fool. I'l