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Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 581    |    Released on: Today at 16:22

a P

f my throat. My tongue felt thick, and

off the other side of the mattress, narrowly

el, and I kicked blindly

the locked oak door and pounded

t was solid and heavy, built t

Thud

ut of my mouth and scream

They're going to

, but I kept scr

my fingernails tore and blood s

sharp, but I

g over; he just stood by the bed, laughing

g, Mrs. Hurley

ms and leaned aga

busy taking care of hi

crack of the door, praying to hear

ears. The drug was hitting my bloodstream fast, maki

und of Brennan's heavy footsteps echoed fro

nged my fist against the door one more time. Bloo

k, whiny voice floated

el so dizzy, my

tantly. The silence was w

in Brennan's voice as he called out to her, ask

I think the baby is upset..

is voice was cold and impatient, the same voice he used with me. "She's just putting

downstairs slammed shut. The bang was so

h the walls, snuffing out the

to come to the stairs, and he had

o the floor, hot tears mixin

nd the room was spinning

carpet and grabbed a sharp ceramic shard fro

palm, letting the sharp edge cut into m

he shard slipper

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Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret
Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret
“My NHL All-Star husband brought his pregnant mistress home in the middle of a blizzard. He threw a divorce and fake PR remarriage contract at my feet, demanding I take the blame for our split so he wouldn't breach his franchise morality clause. He claimed he owed the mistress a proper title because she donated her kidney to save him after a fatal crash three years ago. But he was too blind to know the kidney inside his body was actually mine. When I refused to play along with his PR stunt, his mistress maliciously had my pet rabbit cooked and tricked me into eating it. I slapped them both in absolute grief, but my husband snapped. He forced my bloody thumbprint onto the contract, then brought ten thugs into the house to drug me and film a fake cheating scandal to ruin me forever. As hallucinogenic gas filled the locked attic, I clawed at the door and screamed for my life. But my husband just told his mistress to ignore my "pathetic act" and walked out the front door with her. I had endured his coldness and the fans' vicious hate for three years, secretly giving him my own organ to repay a life debt to his family. Why was my silent devotion repaid with him leaving me to be destroyed by a gang of thugs? Just as the men closed in, a mysterious man in the back row suddenly stepped forward and brutally crushed the entire gang in seconds. He wrapped his jacket around my shaking shoulders, his ice-blue eyes flashing with lethal rage. "It's okay now. You're safe." Surviving this hell, I knew my debt to the Hurley family was paid in full-now, it was their turn to bleed.”