He Held My Funeral,While I Was Still Alive

My husband was kidnapped. The abductors didn't want ransom. They wanted me to hold my own funeral.

To save him, I did exactly as they asked.

The day the funeral ended, my husband came home.

And my nightmare began.

He came at me like a man possessed, fists and fury, not caring that I was pregnant.

I screamed. I begged. I asked him why.

He said nothing. Just kicked me in the stomach, again and again, until I started bleeding.

I watched, helpless, as my fully formed baby slipped out of me and onto the floor.

In that moment, the pain in my body and the devastation in my mind pulled me under, and everything went black.

When I woke up, I was lying beside the incinerator.

My husband's face hovered inches from mine, twisted into something inhuman.

"The day of your funeral, you were already a dead woman."

The second I realized he meant to push me in, I thrashed and clawed and begged him to stop.

His face only grew more monstrous.

"You don't deserve to carry my child. Only Geraldine is worthy of being the mother of my children."

"A worthless tramp like you belongs in hell."

Then he shoved me in.

Fire swallowed me whole. Nothing but agony and despair.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the kidnapper's call had come in.

——

"We have your husband. If you want him alive—"

That phone call confirmed it. I had truly been reborn. Hatred surged through me so violently I nearly told them to kill him.

Then a wave of cold sweat drenched my body.

In my last life, Thaddeus James had staged his own kidnapping to force me into holding a fake funeral, making the outside world believe I was really dead.

Then he came home and tortured me to death.

It was premeditated.

The whole thing was designed to eliminate me and install Geraldine Simmons as his wife.

If I told the kidnappers to kill him, Thaddeus almost certainly had a backup plan to deal with me. He had more than enough power and cunning for that.

"Mrs. James, did you hear what I said?"

The kidnapper's voice yanked me back. I played along, feeding him the same responses I'd given in my previous life.

After I hung up, my heart was still hammering.

I'd agreed to hold the funeral. That bought me time to run.

Running took money. If I wanted to escape Thaddeus's grasp, I needed resources.

I packed every piece of jewelry and designer watch in the house, then booked the earliest flight overseas.

I would disappear somewhere Thaddeus could never find me, and from there, I'd plan my next move.

As for calling the police, I didn't even consider it. The moment cops got involved, all Thaddeus had to do was tell them it was a prank, and no one could touch him. He could even distance himself entirely, have some lackey claim responsibility for the phone call, and walk away clean.

So running was the only real option.

Once I'd confirmed that everything valuable and portable was packed, I opened the door.

And froze.

Thaddeus James stood on the other side, his gaze glacial.

"Mrs. James, you didn't follow the instructions from the call. Where exactly do you think you're going?"

His voice came through a voice changer. A nightmare made flesh, standing right in front of me.

Before I could speak, his foot slammed into me.

The kick was brutal, dead-center in my lower abdomen. Pain ripped through me.

Was I really going to relive the same despair, the same death?

I didn't know where the strength came from, but I screamed and lunged at him.

My resistance was met with a beating twice as savage.

Within seconds I was on the floor again, bleeding again.

Thaddeus loomed over me, disgust carved into every line of his face.

"You think you can play games with me? This entire house is wired with cameras. Every single thing you do is under my control."

"Libby Fletcher, when I decide you die, you die."

"Why?" I stared up at him. "If you really love Geraldine, I'll agree to a divorce."