His Dead Wife Came Back For Revenge

The crunch of twisting metal echoed in my skull. Glass shattered, burying into my skin.

I jolted upward, tearing the silk sheets off my body. My hands flew to my stomach.

Flat. Unbroken. Empty.

I wasn't bleeding out on the asphalt. I was sitting in my own bedroom, drenched in cold sweat.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen illuminated the dark room.

*Kael.*

My fiancé. The man who stood over my mangled body and watched the life drain from my eyes.

I swiped the screen to answer.

"Are you awake?" Kael asked. His tone carried that familiar, impatient edge.

"I am now." My voice cracked.

"Did you pack for the coastal trip tomorrow?"

My gaze shifted to the wall. The printed itinerary hung right where I left it. Tomorrow. The coastal drive. The hairpin turn where my brakes would magically fail.

"I packed," I replied, forcing the words through a tight throat.

"Good. I'm taking the SUV with Seraphina. She gets motion sickness easily, so she needs the extra room."

A phantom ache ripped through my abdomen. In my past life, I begged him to stay with me. I told him I felt sick, that the baby was sitting heavy. He told me I was being dramatic.

He left me to drive the sports car alone. He left me to die.

"You're taking Seraphina," I repeated.

"Don't start acting jealous, Elara. She’s sensitive right now. You know she needs me."

A laugh bubbled up from my chest. It sounded sharp, almost manic.

Dead silence stretched across the line.

"Is something funny?" Kael snapped.

"No. Not at all." I smiled, though my face felt like cracking ice. "Take her. Give her all the room she needs."

"I don't have time for your games. Just be ready by eight."

The line went dead.

I tossed the phone onto the mattress. He had already orchestrated it. He and Seraphina wanted my family's shares, but they did not want me. Or the child I carried.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare feet hit the hardwood floor.

If tomorrow was the trip, the car was already rigged.

I pulled a heavy trench coat over my nightgown and slipped out of my room. The mansion was dead quiet. I navigated the back staircase, heading straight for the underground garage.

The damp air hit my face as I pushed the heavy metal door open. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete.

My silver coupe sat in the corner.

And someone was leaning against the driver's side door.

I froze.

A tall figure pushed off the car. The glow of a cigarette illuminated his sharp jawline and the dark, messy hair falling over his forehead.

Caspian.

Kael’s younger brother. The illegitimate son the family kept tucked away in the shadows. The outcast.

"A bit late for a stroll, Elara," Caspian said. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot.

"What are you doing near my car, Caspian?"

"Just admiring the machinery." He shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets. "Though I wouldn't take it out for a spin tonight."

My stomach dropped. "Why not?"

"Saw Kael's personal mechanic down here about two hours ago. Poking around your front tires." Caspian tilted his head. "Didn't know you needed maintenance."

They had already cut the brake lines.

I closed the distance between us. Caspian didn't move away. He just watched me with those cold, calculating eyes.

"Did he see you?" I asked.

"No. I prefer to stay out of sight."

"Good." I stopped inches from him. "Keep it that way."

Caspian let out a low whistle. "You look awful, by the way. Pale. Shaking. Did my brother finally push you over the edge?"

"He did more than that."

"Are you going to cry about it?" He mocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm going to kill him."

The smirk vanished. Caspian stared at me, his gaze dropping to my clenched fists and back up to my eyes.

"Excuse me?" he muttered.

"You heard me." I leaned closer. "You hate him, Caspian. I know you do. He treats you like dirt, and your father pretends you don't exist."

Caspian's jaw tightened. The muscle ticked under his skin. "Careful, Elara. You're talking about your precious fiancé."

"I'm talking about a dead man walking."

He let out a harsh exhale. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I want a partner." I reached out and tapped the hood of my rigged car. "Tomorrow, this car goes off a cliff. Kael expects me to be in it."

"And you want me to stop him?"

"No. I want you to help me put Seraphina in the driver's seat."

Caspian went entirely still. The ambient hum of the garage felt deafening.

"You're out of your mind," he whispered.

"I'm perfectly sane." I held his gaze. "If you help me, I'll make sure Kael loses everything. His inheritance, his status, his freedom. And I'll hand his empire directly to you."

"Why should I trust you?" Caspian asked. "Yesterday you were picking out floral arrangements for the wedding."

"Yesterday I was a fool." I grabbed his wrist. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to my freezing fingers. "Kael took something from me. Something I will never get back. I will tear his life apart piece by piece."

Caspian looked down at my hand gripping his wrist. He didn't pull away.

"He's still my brother," Caspian said, his voice dropping an octave.

"He plans to kill his own unborn child tomorrow, Caspian. Just to keep Seraphina comfortable."

Caspian's eyes widened. He stared at my stomach, then back up to my face. The realization hit him like a physical blow.

"You're pregnant," he stated.

"Yes." I released his wrist and stepped back. "And he knows. He just doesn't care. Are you in, or do I find someone else to take Kael's crown?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. The metal snapped open, the flame casting a warm glow over his face.

"I've always hated that coupe," Caspian said, snapping the lighter shut.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a start." He stepped around the car and opened the passenger door. "Get in."

"Where are we going?"

"To fix your little brake problem." He shot me a sideways glance. "Unless you actually want to die tomorrow?"

I slid into the passenger seat. Caspian got behind the wheel.

He turned the key. The engine roared to life, echoing off the concrete walls.

"So," Caspian said, shifting into gear. "How much blood are we willing to spill?"

"As much as it takes."

The tires squealed as we sped out of the garage and into the pitch-black night.

But as I watched the estate shrink in the rearview mirror, my phone vibrated in my pocket again.

A text message from an unknown number.

*I know you remember.*