My Dead Husband’s Very Much Alive

My heart seized, like someone had reached in and ripped it out.

Six years.

For six years, I was his widow. I turned down every man who came near me.

And he wasn't just alive. He had a baby on the way with another woman.

"A little over a month," Seraphina sobbed. "But we can get rid of it. It won't be a problem. As long as you don't hate me..."

Before she could finish, she shot up and ran for the balcony.

"I shouldn't be alive!" she screamed. "I ruined everything!"

"Seraphina!" Axel's face went white. He scrambled after her.

I grabbed his arm. "You stay right here!"

"Let go of me!" He threw me off, his eyes wild. "Don't provoke her! You know what her anxiety is like!"

The force sent me stumbling backward.

My head slammed into the sharp corner of the bar.

A flash of white-hot pain. Then something warm and wet trickled down my neck.

"Aria!" Axel screamed my name.

But the last thing I saw was him on the balcony, holding Seraphina tight in his arms, whispering gently. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm here..."

Then everything went black.

I woke up in a strange clinic.

The back of my head was wrapped in thick gauze, throbbing.

"You're awake!" a young nurse said, relieved. "That was a deep cut. You have twelve stitches."

"Where's Axel?" my voice was a croak.

The nurse's smile faded. "He looked in on you, yes. After he got his wife settled. But her leg was causing her a lot of pain, so he had to return to her side."

His wife.

So that's what he called her. For how long?

"Where is she?" I asked.

"The VIP suite on the top floor. She has her own medical team," the nurse said carefully. "She's in shock, her emotions are very unstable."

And I was in a regular room with a concussion.

I let out a bitter laugh and threw back the covers.

"Ma'am, you need to stay for observation—"

The door was thrown open.

Axel strode in. He had dark circles under his eyes, his face a mess of exhaustion and conflict.

He slammed a file down on the bed in front of me.

"Explain this."

I looked down. It was a printout of an encrypted message.

[Thorne supply line to Kozlov confirmed. Cargo value: 98 million. Handoff at Pier 3, 2300 hours.]

"I don't know what this is," I said, frowning.

"You don't know?" Axel's voice was rough. "We lost almost a hundred million dollars in product because of this message! The Kozlovs set up an ambush at the pier. Thirteen of my men are dead!"

Below that was a long exposé: Axel faking his death, lying to his fiancée, all for his mistress.

The Thorne family name was dragged through the mud.

And the message was sent from a secure channel that belonged to my best friend. A channel she hadn't used in years.

Axel's eyes were cold.

"Still going to deny it? This is your best friend's channel, isn't it? She'd do anything for you, consequences be damned."

I just stared, feeling helpless.

"Emma got out of this life two years ago," I said. "She would never—"

"Enough!" he cut me off. "The proof is right there. Are you going to keep lying?"

I looked at the file. A chill went down my spine.

This was a setup.

Someone was framing me.

"How did you get so cruel?" Axel’s voice was laced with disappointment. "You know, when I saw you lying in that pool of blood, for a second... I thought I was going to lose you..."

His voice trembled.

"But now I see it. The sweet, innocent Aria I knew is dead. You've become a monster, obsessed with driving Seraphina and her baby into the grave!"

His words were like daggers. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"You have no right to say I've changed. Who do you think changed me?"

Axel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, like he was making a final decision.

"Have you forgotten our baby?" His voice dropped, dangerously soft. "We know that pain, Aria. Why would you wish it on another child?"

My head snapped up. I stared him dead in the eyes.

Our baby.

Six years ago, after I found him with Seraphina, I was furious, running down the stairs to get away. I tripped. Fell hard. My stomach hit the banister.

Blood soaked through my dress.

I lost the child I hadn't even had the chance to tell him about.

And now he was using our dead baby to defend Seraphina's.

That miscarriage was the reason the Family ordered him to exile Seraphina.

It was why he knelt before me with a gun to his head, begging me to stay.

I gave a hollow laugh. "You're shameless. She'll always be the home-wrecking whore. The slutty little sister. And that baby will always be a bastard."

Axel's face twisted into a snarl.

"What did you say?"

"I said she's a whore, and her baby is a bastard," I repeated, each word clear and sharp. "She was six years ago, and she is now."

The veins in his fists bulged. He looked like he wanted to hit me.

Just then, his phone rang.

"Axel, I'm scared..." Seraphina's pathetic voice came through the speaker. "I feel like someone's trying to hurt me and the baby..."

Axel's expression softened instantly.

"It's okay, baby. I'm coming right back."

He hung up and looked at me, his eyes now ice-cold.

"I was going to give you a clean break. But you couldn't leave it alone."

He pulled a photo from his jacket and threw it on the bed.

It was my adoptive father. He was tied to a chair, a rag stuffed in his mouth, his eyes wide with terror.

My blood froze.

"I know you've been helping your father all these years. But he still owes the Valkovs five million in gambling debts," Axel said, his voice cold and pained. "And I hear their patience just ran out."