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No Saving the Woman Who Killed My Daughter Novel Cover

No Saving the Woman Who Killed My Daughter

Eight years after his daughter Joey perished in the desert due to his wife Ruby’s betrayal, a former grieving father has become an expert desert guide. Ruby bribed a rescue team to save her intoxicated brother instead of their stranded child, leaving Joey to die alone. When an expensive new rescue mission features a familiar face from his past, the guide must face his trauma. He chooses to walk away, refusing to save the person who destroyed his life.
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Chapter 3

At noon the next day, a helicopter landed just outside the camp.

The rotor wash kicked up a massive cloud of dust, nearly ripping the corrugated iron sheets right off the shack.

Arthur cursed under his breath and ran back inside. "That Ruby woman is here. She brought a whole crew with her."

I sat in the tent without moving. My fingers traced a frayed piece of red string.

It was the string tied tightly around Joey's wrist when I finally found her.

"Zachary, do you want to hide for a bit?" Arthur asked, poking his head in.

"No need."

I stuffed the string into my pocket and stood up.

By the time the tent flap was pulled back, Ruby was already standing a short distance from the entrance.

Her oversized sunglasses covered most of her face, but they couldn't hide her heavy makeup, which looked absurdly out of place in this desert.

She glanced my way, then turned her head and frowned in disgust.

"This is him?" she asked her assistant.

The latter nodded. "Zachary Porter, 43 years old. Desert guide. The only local who can cross the deep interior."

Ruby looked back at me through her sunglasses.

My face was weathered with wrinkles, my skin tanned almost black, and my entire body was coated in sand.

I looked like a completely different person from the man she had divorced eight years ago.

Besides, my real name was Jack Porter. After Joey died, I changed it to Zachary.

Ruby didn't recognize me.

"Let's hear his terms," she said, waving a hand at her assistant before turning to find some shade.

The assistant walked over. His polite demeanor was laced with arrogance as he said, "Mr. Porter, Ms. Shaw is being exceptionally generous. We can negotiate the money.

"50 million dollars is just the starting point. We can also arrange a Bellmont residency permit or study-abroad slots for your children—"

"I don't have children."

The assistant froze for a second before checking his tablet.

"Then we can offer something else. Real estate, top-tier medical access, or…"

Just then, David Webb, an old guide, walked past. His son, Kieran Webb, was following behind, carrying a bucket.

Kieran had a loose tongue. He jerked his chin toward the assistant and muttered to David, "Zachary's got it rough. His wife abandoned him, his only daughter died, and now he's just rotting away out here in the desert all by himself. He doesn't even have anyone to talk to."

It wasn't loud, but Ruby caught it. Her gaze swept over from behind her sunglasses.

She let out a cold snicker. "With a man like that, no wonder she couldn't leave fast enough."

Arthur's fists clenched.

I reached out and held him back.

Ruby walked back over, looking down at me like she was handing out charity.

"I get that you're hesitant. The desert is dangerous. But my brother's safety is paramount. Name your terms. As long as you go in and bring him back, everything is on the table."

"I said I'm not going," I replied firmly.

"You want more money?"

"It has nothing to do with money."

She frowned, clearly annoyed at having to deal with an ungrateful idiot.

"Then what does it have to do with? That dead daughter of yours?"

The air instantly turned to ice. Arthur caught his breath.

Ruby smirked, completely unfazed, and pressed on. "Did you drag your daughter into the desert and get her killed? Is that why you're too chicken to go back out there now?"

My hands balled into tight fists. The veins in my neck bulged, and my temples throbbed violently.

"Shut up."

The whole camp went dead silent.

The smirk froze on Ruby's face, and her bodyguards immediately stepped forward to shield her.

But she recovered quickly, her expression twisting back into that deep-seated arrogance.

"Looks like I hit a nerve. You couldn't even keep your daughter alive. No wonder you're stuck playing tour guide in the desert. My brother is nothing like your daughter. His life actually matters."

I stared straight into her face.

It had been eight years. She was just as beautiful as she used to be.

And just as heartless.

"You need to leave, Ms. Shaw."