My Husband’s Brother Forced Me

My husband, Liam, died in a car crash during a business trip.

The night before I was supposed to fly home to my parents, his parents served me a bowl of soup.

When I woke up, a man was lying next to me. His clothes were a mess, his skin covered in scratches.

It was my brother-in-law, Evan.

I scrambled to get out of bed, but he grabbed my ankle, yanking me back down. He pinned me beneath him, his breath hot on my skin.

"My brother's dead," he hissed. "You, and everything he owned? You're mine now."

"Give me a son," he continued, his voice dropping to a sick whisper. "A little piece of him to carry on. Do that, and maybe... maybe I'll consider letting you go."

They drugged me with something that left my limbs feeling like lead and locked me in that room.

Night after night of humiliation turned into something else for him. He became obsessed, addicted to my body.

It didn't stop, not even after I was pregnant. Not even after he got engaged to Chloe Lang. He would still sneak into my room every night, a ghost in the dark.

Then Chloe found out.

While Evan was away, she came for me. She dragged me and my unborn child into a bathtub filled with formaldehyde, and we suffocated in the chemical stench. A single coffin for two bodies.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back in that room, on the day it all began.

Evan was leaning over me, his hands tearing at my dress. As his lips came down towards mine, I forced my trembling body still and let my voice drop to a low, chilling whisper.

"I'm barely cold in my grave, and you're already forcing yourself on my wife? Did you ever even respect me, your own brother?"

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1

A crack of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the sheer shock on Evan's face. He stumbled back, collapsing to the floor.

"Liam? No... no, that's impossible. Who are you?!"

The Stone family had deep roots in the old superstitions. They were terrified of ghosts and spirits.

After a moment of paralysis, he lunged at me, trying to pry my mouth open.

"Is this a trick? Are you using some kind of speaker? Jenna, are you trying to fool me with this ghost bullshit?!"

My face was a mask of cold fury. I raised a hand, and he flew backward as if shoved by an invisible force, slamming into the wall three meters away.

Under the dim, flickering light, I stared at him, my eyes unblinking and cold.

"Don't think my death gives you the right to take my place. To claim what's mine. Jenna is your sister-in-law!"

Liam's voice, channeled through me, echoed in the room. "You touch one more hair on her head, and I swear, you'll be dead in three days."

The color drained from Evan's face. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out cold on the floor.

I finally let out a breath, my palm slick with cold sweat.

Within the hour, the rumor had spread through the entire gated community like wildfire.

Liam Stone's ghost had returned. It had possessed his widow.

Our housekeeper, Sarah, kept stealing nervous glances at me, too scared to get close. "Jenna? Or... Mr. Stone? Who... who are you right now?"

I managed a weak smile.

When Liam was alive, I loved mimicking his voice. I’d gotten so good at it that even his own family couldn't always tell the difference. Once, he'd come home wasted after a client dinner, and to keep his parents from worrying, I’d faked an entire cheerful conversation between the two of us from our bedroom. It had sounded completely natural.

The memory of my first life—the cold iron chains on my wrists and ankles in Evan's basement, the agony as Chloe tortured me to death—sent a violent tremor through me.

This time, I would survive.

"It was just a little trick," I told Sarah quietly.

Scaring Evan into leaving me alone was my only shot at freedom. Sarah had always been kind to me. She was the only one in this house I could trust.

"While they're all panicking, you need to do something for me," I whispered urgently. "Call the Vance Corporation in Capital City. Tell my father to come get me."