My husband left me to die in our penthouse while he was on a 74-day holiday touring Europe.

And smiled.

A smile colder than winter.

“What are you…”

Before I could finish my sentence…

His wrist made a sudden movement.

The bottle crossed the room.

The plastic hit the metal bin.

Clack.

He disappeared under the coffee grounds and handkerchiefs.

My heart stopped beating.

« Non ! »

My scream was barely audible.

” What are you doing ?! ”

“I need it!”

“I’m going to die!”

I tried to get out of bed.

My legs buckled instantly.

I crashed onto the parquet floor.

Every breath was torture.

Thaddius crouched down next to me.

So close I could smell her luxury cologne.

His whispers freeze my blood.

“The doctors have already said that you are terminally ill.”

“You’re only delaying the inevitable.”He inclined his head.

“I’ve pretended enough.”

“When you’re no longer here…”

“The apartment.” ResidentialRentals

“The company.”

“Investments.”

“They will come back to me.”

Her smile widened.

“You’re finally going to stop draining me.”

Something broke inside me.

Not because of betrayal.

Because I understood…

He truly believed he would inherit everything.

He reached for the bedside table.

He took my phone.

My laptop.

My emergency satellite communicator.

All.

« Non… »

I weakly reached out to grab them.

He stepped back.

“I’ll take that.”

“So that you don’t bother anyone.”

Clarice folded another sweater into her suitcase.
« Oh. »

“And before leaving…”

Thaddius tinted a keychain.

“I’ve already changed the code on the electronic door.” Doors& Windows

Geneviève giggled.

“In case you suddenly feel like having an adventure.”

The room began to rotate.

I had a burn on my lungs.

« Tu… »

“You can’t…”

He hadn’t finished.

“I also called the building maintenance department