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Perhaps in a Past Life Novel Cover

Perhaps in a Past Life

Mistaken for the other woman, a wife faces the ultimate betrayal when her husband Quincy’s mistress, Sloane, brutally attacks her. Left scarred, bleeding, and grieving her lost unborn child, she overhears Quincy coddling the violent assailant over the phone. But when the devastating truth dawns on Quincy—that the victim his mistress destroyed was actually his own wife—his world completely shatters. Experience a dark modern romance novel of tragedy, deception, and agonizing realization.
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Chapter 3

I had no strength left to fight.

"Quincy will find out," I gasped. "He wants this baby. He'll never forgive you for killing his child!"

Sloane paused, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I'd finally struck a nerve.

But then, with a flick of her wrist, she drove the heel into my cheek, carving a deep gash.

"Don't you dare say Quincy's name, you bitch!" she roared.

"How would he ever find out?" she continued to rage. "No one will even remember your name by the time I'm done with you."

I froze, a chill spreading through me as she carved more cuts into my face.

The stinging pain became so intense that I went numb.

Seeing me so thoroughly defeated, Sloane's lips curled into a triumphant sneer.

"Look at you, Audrina. A pale ghost. You can't compete with me for Quincy now," she taunted.

"This is what happens when you cross me!"

I was a rag doll as she vented her fury on me, the sharp heel slicing my skin again and again.

I felt myself drifting away, my consciousness teetering on the edge.

Sloane's friends watched her, their faces pale with fear.

"Sloane, stop! You're going to kill her," one of them said, her voice trembling.

Sloane scoffed. "Scared? Quincy promised he'd handle everything. What are you worried about?"

Lying helplessly on the ground, a wet cough rattled in my chest, and I tasted blood on my tongue.

Finally, she stood up.

"Alright, I'm bored. Let's toss her in the trunk. If I'm not over it by then, maybe I'll come back to finish the job."

With that, Sloane and her cronies left.

I lay on the cold ground, clutching my stomach, struggling to breathe.

An empty void bloomed in my chest as my world faded to black.

"Little one... I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," I whispered, my life slipping away.

"If I live through this, I will get justice for you. I swear it."

Tears mixed with the blood running down my cheeks, each drop stinging my wounds like a needle.

Time blurred.

I don't know how long I lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, until a faint sound reached my ears—someone was approaching.

Through the fog, I recognized Dexter Cross, Quincy's head of security.

He took one look at my ruined form and immediately called Quincy.

"Boss, it's bad. Sloane took it too far. The woman... her face is ruined."

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