Husband Whispered My Murder, and My Family Worshipped the Homewrecker

“His French tutor’s gonna get dragged into this mess too because of you. What if she loses her job and reputation because of this? Hurry up, and open your private payments and compensate her!”

Before I could even react, he yanked the phone straight out of my hands.

Pain shot through my wrist, but I raised my voice to defend myself.

“It’s not like that, Brody! You have to believe me! I didn’t misunderstand anything! I caught him and Valeraine in bed, in my own damn room! I saw it with my own eyes! I even recorded it! The video’s on my phone! I—”

“Shut up! Shut up! You wicked woman!” he roared. “How dare you slander two innocent people! I’ll kill you!”

He raised his leg, aiming a kick straight at my face. I shut my eyes and braced for despair.

But the blow I expected didn’t come. Instead, I heard a scuffle—Mom, Grandpa, and Grandma had rushed in and shoved him back with everything they had.

At this point, Grandpa, the head of the family, realized something was wrong.

His eyes narrowed as he turned toward Killian.

“What the hell did you say to them?” he demanded. “How’d you manage to turn a father against his own daughter? A brother against his own sister?!”

Dad immediately jumped in to argue.

“Dad, Killian’s doing this for our own good. If you heard what he said, you’d understand what he meant.”

“Yeah, Grandpa!” Brody chimed in. “Just listen to what Killian has to say. He’s doing good things for our family—you’ll see how disgusting that slut really is!”

He pointed a finger in my direction, his voice seething with hatred.

“I knew she was trouble. If it weren’t for what my brother-in-law told me, I would’ve been fooled by this whore!”

“Enough! Shut your damn mouths—all of you!” Grandpa bellowed, warning Dad and Brody with a firm and final voice.

“I don’t need to hear the damn thing Killian said. I may be old, but I’m not blind. You think I’d trust him over my own granddaughter? The two of you must’ve been kicked in the head by a donkey!”

He turned to Mom and Grandma. “Help her up. Get her out of here.”

I tried to get to my feet, stretching my hand out to Brody. “Give me back my phone!”

Brody hesitated, clearly itching to come at me again, but one look at Grandpa’s face shut him down. With a bitter scowl, he shoved the phone into my hand.

Feeling the cold surface of the screen in my palm, I finally breathed a little easier.

As long as that video of Killian’s affair was still there, I had evidence. I had leverage to divorce him.

I glanced at my grandparents and my mother. Their worried faces gave me a shred of comfort.

At least, in this life, they hadn’t been completely turned against me.

But just as we reached the front door, I heard footsteps behind us.

On high alert, I turned around—and met my brother’s mocking eyes.

The next moment, he leaned over and whispered something into Grandma’s ear. Whatever he said, it changed her completely. Just seconds ago, she was worried about me. But now, she spat in my face.

Startled and terrified, I reached out, trying to pull Grandpa and Mom away with me.

But Halvard raised his foot and kicked me hard before I could move. I stumbled backward, tumbling down the concrete steps outside the door—one step after another.

Grandpa and Mom tried to rush over to help me, but then Brody and Grandma whispered something into their ears too. Within seconds, they pulled back their outstretched hands.

At that moment, the memory of my tendons being cut in my past life—the pain of my limbs being crippled—came crashing back. I gritted my teeth against the agony spreading through my body and ignoring the fresh blood seeping from my forehead, I limped toward the car parked by the roadside.

I had to escape! No matter what!

But just as I moved, Grandpa pointed at me and shouted, “Quick! All of you—go get her!”

Hearing that, I panicked, screaming at the top of my lungs, “Help! Somebody help me! They’re kidnapping me! Please, somebody help me!”

It was a weekday, and the lobby was nearly empty, but my cries drew attention from outside. A crowd quickly formed around me.

Under their watchful eyes, I finally bought myself a few precious seconds.

I unlocked my phone and tried to dial 911, but my fingers slipped from sweat and panic, jabbing random numbers across the smudgy screen.