[Don't trust your family. Be careful—be very, very careful. They will kill you.] The text popped up out of nowhere. Weird, but I brushed it off. My husband adored me, my family was solid. Life was picture-perfect, like I'd hit the jackpot in some cosmic lottery. Then the nightmare started. Three people. Three secrets. One was pulling all the strings.
View More"No matter what we tried, you just wouldn't die," Scott said, his voice icy. "My dad got sick of waiting and went hands-on. Too bad you called the cops and ruined that plan.""But hey," he added, "it's just you and me now. No witnesses, no escape."Why did he want me dead? The question screamed in my head, but my throat locked up.Scott tilted his head like he'd read my mind, his expression shifting into something almost...pitying. "Since we've been together this long, I'll do you a favor. Let you die knowing why." He leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear."After you got pregnant, I took out a few fat insurance policies on you. My business is toast—shop's gone, debts up to my ears. And you? You've been freeloading long enough. Time to earn your keep."His words dripped with venom, and it hit me like a slap."If you die," he said, his voice a snake-like hiss, "I get millions."Millions. That's all I was to him. A payout. My whole life was just some twisted plan to cash in.
The cops wasted no time hauling Joseph off. The way he stared at me—cold, hateful. I knew that look would haunt me forever.Then, just before they left, the officers dropped a bombshell: Joseph had a record. Manslaughter. Ten years in prison. Released three years ago.My stomach turned. That was the same year Scott "fell in love" with me.Scott wouldn't even look at me."L-Lacey..." he stammered, voice shaky."You knew," I snapped, cutting him off.He reached for me, but I yanked my arm back."No wonder," I said, my voice trembling. "You didn't skip out on further studies because you didn't want to—it's because you couldn't. And no wonder you picked me, the plain one. I was easy, right? Easier to lie to. Easier to control."Tears blurred my vision before I even realized I was crying."All of you lied to me. For two years, I've been living with a murderer—and he's been trying to kill me."Scott dropped to his knees. "No, Lacey! My dad's crime was an accident! He's changed, I s
The man gritted his teeth, muscles jerking from the shock, but he didn't back down. Even slowed, he kept trying to grab me.I cranked the current higher.He cursed, probably not expecting me to fight back, and raised his knife to go for my hand.I swung the baton hard, the buzzing sound loud enough to rattle me.The tip smashed into his wrist. He yelped, the knife clattering to the ground.The sharp stench of burnt skin hit me, mixing with the zap of the stun baton.The guy realized fast he couldn't take me down and bolted.I didn't waste a second—I called the cops, my hands shaking.When they showed up, I was still clutching the baton like a lifeline, too freaked out to let go. One of the officers had to back up quick when I nearly fried him by accident.They reassured me, coaxing the story out of me bit by bit. They pulled nearby surveillance footage and assigned two officers to take me home.Sitting in the back of the squad car, I finally started to feel... okay. Not great
A cold chill ran through me.Scott, Margaret, and Joseph stood together like a united front—a real family. Margaret cowered behind them, totally shielded.But what about me? Who was protecting me and my baby?Fear mixed with disappointment, twisting in my chest. I couldn't call the police, not yet. Confronting them directly wouldn't get me anywhere.So, I stepped back and made a decision. Margaret had to go. She needed to pack up and head back to her hometown—at least until my baby was born. I couldn't have her around anymore.Naturally, she threw a fit."How dare you!" she shrieked. "I should've never let him marry you! Biggest mistake of my life! You eat my son's food, spend his money, and now you're trying to kick me out? You're nothing but an ungrateful snake!"Scott and Joseph realized I was already compromising. They ignored her protests, booked her a ticket, and sent her off that same night.Afterward, I cornered Margaret about where she was and what she was doing the da
"I haven't touched the car since I drove it home from work a few days ago," Scott said.I grilled Margaret and Joseph next, but they both denied messing with it.Still uneasy, I pulled the car's dashcam and started reviewing the footage. Sure enough, there was Joseph, passing by the car several times last night.When I called him out, he frowned, popping a sunflower seed into his mouth. "I was just taking a walk in the yard," he said, voice tight. "What, walking by is suspicious now? Why don't you ask Margaret? She took your car keys yesterday, said it was dirty and needed a wash."His comment hit like a dart. Margaret was the only one who'd actually handled the car.I found her in the kitchen and confronted her.She rolled her eyes. "Are you serious? Don't you dare accuse me of something like that."Margaret never liked me. She thought I wasn't good enough for Scott—her perfect, handsome, Ivy League son. Honestly, I was used to it. But after we got married and I struggled to ge
I thought back to the flowerpot incident and confront Susan.If she wanted Scott so badly, knocking me out of the picture made perfect sense.Susan sneered. "Don't even start blaming me. I was at a training course yesterday, nowhere near that street."She was an elementary school teacher and swore she'd been at a school-organized workshop. I'd already checked with the school—it all lined up.Her alibi held. The training was far from where the flowerpot fell. So, if it wasn't her, then who?Meanwhile, Scott and I were stuck at home recovering—me focusing on my pregnancy, and him healing from the burns. To make things easier, Margaret and Joseph had moved in.Today, Scott and I had a follow-up at the hospital. We left early, driving off in our car.The engine hummed like normal as we pulled out. Nothing felt off.Then Scott glanced at me, his fingers brushing the scar on his face. "Lacey," he said, "I don't think I deserve you anymore."A wave of sadness hit me. "Don't say that.
An hour later, Scott walked in, lugging a bag of lemons."It smells amazing! What's Mom cooking now?""Your mom's out meeting friends," I said. "Susan's making chicken soup for me."At Susan's name, Scott's face went tight. He wouldn't even glance at the kitchen."Oh... her," he muttered.I grabbed his arm, steering him toward the kitchen. "Susan's so sweet. Whoever marries her? Total jackpot, right?"Scott froze mid-step, but I didn't let go.Inside, Susan's eyes flicked to him, bright for half a second before she slammed the wall back up, pretending she hadn't noticed. She acted like Scott wasn't even there."Lacey, come taste this," Susan called. "Tell me if the seasoning's off."She reached for the ladle but fumbled, burning herself—and the whole pot tipped.Hot soup came hurtling toward me."Lacey, move!" Susan screamed.I clutched my belly, frozen in place. My brain screamed run, but my legs? Totally useless.Before I could even blink, Scott lunged in front of me.T
Crash!A flowerpot smashed onto the pavement behind me, shards slicing my ankle. Just a second slower, and it would've nailed my head—and probably cracked it open."Seriously? Who the hell's tossing crap from up there?" the old lady grumbled, shaking her head.A minute ago, she'd almost tripped, and I'd grabbed her arm to steady her. That split-second reflex? It had saved me.The old lady muttered that all the buildings around here had railings, designed to keep things from falling. Nothing was supposed to come crashing down—unless someone made it happen.Her words sent a chill slicing through me.I looked up at the high-rise towering overhead, sunlight stabbing into my eyes. Could someone really be trying to hurt me?Then I remembered the text. That weird, cryptic warning: [Beware your family]. I'd checked the number—disconnected, a dead end. No clue who sent it or why.My hand drifted to my belly, a quiet pat, like I was trying to reassure the baby.When I got home, I told m
Crash!A flowerpot smashed onto the pavement behind me, shards slicing my ankle. Just a second slower, and it would've nailed my head—and probably cracked it open."Seriously? Who the hell's tossing crap from up there?" the old lady grumbled, shaking her head.A minute ago, she'd almost tripped, and I'd grabbed her arm to steady her. That split-second reflex? It had saved me.The old lady muttered that all the buildings around here had railings, designed to keep things from falling. Nothing was supposed to come crashing down—unless someone made it happen.Her words sent a chill slicing through me.I looked up at the high-rise towering overhead, sunlight stabbing into my eyes. Could someone really be trying to hurt me?Then I remembered the text. That weird, cryptic warning: [Beware your family]. I'd checked the number—disconnected, a dead end. No clue who sent it or why.My hand drifted to my belly, a quiet pat, like I was trying to reassure the baby.When I got home, I told m...
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