Footsteps thundered behind me. I pushed faster, lungs burning.
My foot caught on a loose stone. I went down hard.
Before I could scramble up, searing agony exploded between my shoulder blades.
A sharp axe had buried itself in my back.
White-hot pain radiated through me. Something inside shattered—not bone, but hope. My heart finally died.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The attackers scattered.
Lying in my own blood, vision blurring, I fumbled for my phone. With trembling fingers, I uploaded every video file I'd prepared.
If I die, I'm taking you all with me.
Only when the screen flashed "Upload Complete" did I let my eyes close.
Adam walked a few paces before a chill crawled up his spine. He stopped, an inexplicable weight settling in his chest.
Lola tightened her grip on his arm. "Adam? Why are you stopping?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Something feels off."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, her voice soft. "Don't worry. I arranged those people. Just a scare tactic to teach your wife a lesson." She looked up at him. "Don't you trust me?"
Adam considered her words. The logic seemed sound. Layla had been out of control lately; perhaps a fright was exactly what she needed.
"You're right," he muttered.
He turned and continued walking.
Neither noticed the tiny red light on the recording pen in Lola's pocket, blinking rhythmically, capturing every word.
That evening, a violent thunderstorm battered the city.
Lightning split the sky. Adam jerked awake, sweat clinging to his forehead.
He looked at the empty space beside him. The anxiety he'd suppressed returned with a vengeance.
His phone buzzed. His assistant.
