The Priceless Wife He Threw Away

"Turn the car around. Now." Kason's voice sliced through the heavy silence in the Maybach, sharper than the torrential rain battering the windshield. Allison's stomach dropped. She tightened her grip on her phone, her thumb hovering over the text message from her military liaison. Final deadline for retrieval is 0800 tomorrow. "Kason, we can't," Allison said, her voice tight. "We are thirty miles from D.C." Kason didn't even look at her. He pressed his phone closer to his ear. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured into the receiver, his tone softening into something he never used with his wife. "I'll find him. Buster can't have gone far in this storm. Just stay inside, Haylee." Haylee. The name hit Allison's chest like a physical blow. Her lungs constricted, making it hard to pull in a breath. "Take the next exit," Kason barked at the driver, twisting his expensive Patek Philippe watch around his wrist-his signature tell when he was losing patience. The driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror. "Sir, if we turn back to New York now, you'll miss the Washington itinerary entirely." "Did I ask for your opinion?" Kason snapped. "Do it." Allison turned her body toward him. Her heart hammered against her ribs. "Tomorrow is the absolute deadline to claim my parents' ashes," she said, forcing the words through her tight throat. "You promised you would come with me." Kason let out a harsh, humorless laugh. He finally turned his head, his dark eyes sweeping over her with pure disgust. "Are you seriously using dead people to compete for my attention?" Kason sneered. "Haylee is out there crying her eyes out over a living, breathing animal, and you want me to prioritize a box of dust?" Allison's eyes burned. Her hands shook as she unlocked her phone, pulling up the official notification email. "It's not a game, Kason. Look at the clearance code-" Kason's hand shot out. He slapped the phone out of her grasp. The device hit the leather door panel with a sickening crack and fell to the floorboard. "You are cold-blooded, Allison," Kason spat, leaning into her space. "A dog's life is in danger, and all you care about is your pathetic need for sympathy." The sheer absurdity of his words paralyzed her. A cold, heavy numbness started at her fingertips and crawled up her arms. The Maybach swerved violently onto the emergency shoulder, the tires screaming against the slick asphalt before slamming to a halt. Kason hit the master unlock button on the door console. "Get out," he ordered. Allison stared at him, her jaw locking. "No." She grabbed the door handle, holding it shut. Kason's face twisted with rage. He leaned across the center console, his shoulder digging painfully into her chest, and shoved the passenger door open. Freezing rain and violent wind instantly ripped into the cabin. The icy water soaked Allison's collar in seconds. Before she could react, Kason grabbed her leather tote bag from the floor. "Don't delay my trip," he growled, and hurled the bag out into the muddy ditch beside the highway. Allison's breath hitched. The classified military identification documents required to claim her parents' remains were in that bag. Pure, unfiltered panic spiked in her veins. She unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged out of the car, her knees hitting the wet, freezing mud as she scrambled for the leather strap. The heavy car door slammed shut behind her with a deafening thud. Allison whipped her head around just as the Maybach's engine roared. The luxury sedan accelerated instantly, tearing away into the storm. She knelt in the mud, the icy rain pasting her hair to her face. She watched the red taillights blur and vanish into the dark. An eighteen-wheeler roared past in the right lane. A massive wave of dirty water crashed over her, soaking her to the bone. Allison slowly wiped the gritty mud from her eyes. She pulled her cracked phone from her coat pocket. The screen flickered, showing a new text from Kason. Walk home and think about how selfish you are. The shivering in her body suddenly stopped. The suffocating pain in her chest evaporated, replaced by a terrifying, absolute zero coldness. She didn't reply. She opened her settings and blocked Kason's number. Allison stood up. She picked up her ruined bag and began walking down the dark shoulder of I-95. Twenty minutes later, she pushed open the glass door of a run-down motel off the nearest exit. She paid for a room with cash, ignoring the clerk's staring eyes. Inside the dingy room, Allison stood under the rusty showerhead. She let the scalding water wash away the mud and the last two years of her pathetic, subservient life. Her fingers reached up, tracing the thick, jagged scar on her collarbone. It was a reflex. A physical anchor. The tactical mindset of a Delta Force operator, buried for two years, snapped back into place. She stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a thin towel. She picked up the motel's landline phone and dialed a twelve-digit encrypted number. The line clicked. "This is Kramer," Allison said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Initiate Alpha-level protocol for tomorrow's transfer. I am coming alone."