Heiress Unchained: The Bumpkin Wife Came From A Supreme Dynasty

Cold air clung to the walls of the deserted warehouse, and the damp concrete floor sent a biting chill through the space.

"Ezra, someone took me. Please, you have to come get me..."

Curled up near a stack of broken crates, Scarlett Reed tried to make herself smaller. Angry welts striped her arms and back where sticks had struck her, and swollen handprints stained her once delicate face. With shaking fingers, she fumbled her spare phone from her pocket and called her husband, Ezra Wilson.

Soft cries slipped from her throat, and fear made her voice unsteady while her teeth knocked against each other.

"Are you finished?" Ezra answered with clear annoyance from the other end.

For a second, Scarlett couldn't breathe. A dull weight pressed against her chest as she struggled to speak. "I'm telling you the truth. They have guns, and I—"

"That's enough," he cut in without hesitation, his tone flat and sharp. "Do you really think I'd fall for this? You'd lie about being kidnapped just to drag me back? Roselyn's heart stopped. They're still trying to revive her. Can't you act like an adult for once?"

"I wouldn't joke about this. I—"

"We'll deal with it after I return home. Don't call me again."

The line went dead before Scarlett could answer.

She stared at the dark screen in her hand, and tears slowly blurred her vision.

Hopelessness settled over her like a heavy shadow, and whatever strength remained in her expression faded away.

Only hours earlier, the two of them had been strolling through a foreign country on vacation.

Everything changed when Roselyn Lloyd called, crying about sharp pain in her chest. The moment Ezra heard her sobbing, he left Scarlett standing alone on a strange street and rushed straight to the airport without a second glance.

It never crossed his mind that she might be unsafe in a place she didn't know.

All that mattered to him was the woman he had always placed on a pedestal, Roselyn.

After he left, someone yanked a sack over Scarlett's head and hauled her into a van.

From there, they tossed her into this deserted warehouse and took turns hitting her, their fists and boots landing without mercy. Slaps cracked across her face again and again until her skin burned.

Eventually, they grew bored of hurting her. Once they stepped out for lunch, she finally found a small window to beg for help.

Her phone vibrated in her hand with a new message. Roselyn had sent her a photo on WhatsApp.

In the image, Ezra's shirt clung to him with sweat as he cradled Roselyn like something fragile that might break. He held her with careful arms, shielding her as though she were priceless.

The fear and desperation written all over his face were emotions Scarlett had never once received from him in three years of marriage.

A sharp ache tore through her chest, so fierce it almost made her gasp.

A hollow laugh slipped from her lips, and tears quickly followed.

While she hovered between life and death, her husband stood beside another woman and poured all his concern into her.

There was nothing left in this marriage worth saving.

She brushed the tears off her cheeks, and whatever warmth once lived in her eyes disappeared.

If she survived this, the first thing she would do was end the marriage for good.

Before she could think any further, the scrape of metal chains echoed from outside the door. The men had come back.

Without hesitating, Scarlett shoved the phone into her pocket and lifted her eyes toward the narrow vent near the ceiling.

No one was coming for her. If she wanted to live, she'd have to get herself out.

Ignoring the sting in her torn knees, she hauled herself onto the pile of wooden crates and forced her body through the grimy opening. Jagged rusted wire tore across her arm, and blood slid down with the rainwater that poured in. She clenched her teeth and kept moving.

Her body dropped into a filthy alley behind the warehouse.

Rain hammered down from above, soaking everything and turning the ground into a slick mess. The instant her feet hit the pavement, her ankle twisted with a sickening snap, and pain shot up her leg.

She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out and dragged her injured leg forward, pushing herself farther into the shadows.

Just as she staggered out onto the main road, headlights cut through the storm as a high end car sped toward her.

"Shit! That bitch escaped!"

"Move! Don't let her get far!"

The kidnappers' angry yells exploded behind her.

Scarlett tightened her jaw and forced herself to stay upright as she stepped into the road and waved both arms at the oncoming car.

A piercing shriek from the brakes sliced through the downpour.

The driver's window slid open, and he leaned out with clear irritation. "Do you have a death wish?"

Instead of answering him, Scarlett lifted her eyes toward the back seat.

Inside sat a man in a tailored black suit. His sharp features stood out even in the dim light, and the calm authority in his posture made him seem distant and untouchable.

Rainwater streamed down her face along with her tears. She dragged a hand across her cheeks and looked straight at him. "Sir, I was kidnapped. I managed to get away, but they're right behind me. Please help me."

The noise outside caught the man's attention, and he slowly turned his head.

His eyes rested on her mud-stained figure. Even soaked and shaken, she stood upright. Something unreadable moved through his gaze.

Behind her, hurried footsteps splashed against the wet pavement, mixed with angry shouting as the men closed in.