My Husband Left Me to Die on Valentine's Day

In my past life, my husband rushed back in time to save me.

But Wynne, devastated by his abrupt departure, drowned her sorrows in alcohol and passed out outside a bar. She fell into the hands of a group of vile men who assaulted her through the night.

The next morning, she woke in a cheap motel and, overwhelmed with despair, leapt from its rooftop.

When I learned the news, I dragged my fragile, traumatized body to pay my respects at her grave. However, Michael pressed my head down and forced me to kneel until my forehead was bloodied and raw.

Then, he threw me into a kennel with vicious dogs and locked me inside.

I knelt on the cold ground, sobbing and begging for mercy, but he stood there, a cruel smile curling his lips as he watched the dogs tear into me.

"Janice Leaf, you killed Wynne! You deserve to pay with your life for hers! Do you really think Zack would have harmed you? Was it necessary to panic and insist I rush back home?

"You couldn’t stand seeing me care for Wynne, could you? You’re nothing but a venomous woman who doesn’t deserve to live!"

The dogs’ teeth sank into my flesh, tearing it apart. I watched in horror as chunks of my body were devoured. My skin was stripped away, exposing pulsating blood vessels and muscles. Yellowed fat glistened, exposed to the open air.

The pain was unbearable, my body trembling violently as I struggled helplessly.

"I didn’t mean for her to die! It was those vile men who hurt her! I saw the knife in Zack’s hand! He really wanted to kill me! You promised to protect me for a lifetime!"

My pleas only seemed to fuel his sadistic delight. He poured meat broth over my body, taunting the frenzied dogs.

"Janice, you brought this on yourself. Go to the afterlife and apologize to Wynne in person!"

The scent of the broth drove the dogs into a frenzy. They lunged at me with renewed ferocity, and I felt my life slipping away, consumed by excruciating pain.

Eight years of love and a wedding vow to stay together through life and death. Yet Michael pushed me into the depths of despair only three years after our marriage, all because of Wynne’s death.

I was the one who chose Wynne as the scholarship recipient, never imagining that my act of kindness would lead to my own demise, leaving me with no place to be buried.

From the moment he couldn’t stop praising Wynne for her beauty and brilliance, I should have realized their relationship wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. But I was too blind, and in the end, I not only killed myself but my child as well.

A sharp glint cut through the darkness, stinging my eyes.

Seeing me suddenly go quiet, Mary thought I’d given up and loosened her grip on me.

Seizing the moment, I tore the necklace from around my neck and slashed it across her face.

She flinched in pain, releasing her hold on my arm.

Michael’s study had a panic alarm and pressing it would summon help immediately.

Mary twisted the doorknob hard, but it didn’t budge.

She muttered under her breath, “I don’t have the key to the study. Mr. Rivers never lets me clean in here!”

A low male voice growled outside the door. “Move. Can’t even handle a pregnant woman? I’ll take care of this.”

They were in this together!

Mary wanted me dead so Wynne could take my place, and Zack was determined to kill me to exact revenge on Michael.

With both of them waiting outside like predators, I pounded the panic alarm with all my strength.

The piercing sound of the alarm shattered the silence of the night.

I could hear the neighbors waking up, their angry voices cutting through the chaos.

“What’s going on? Can’t we get some sleep around here?”

“Whose house is that? It’s freaking loud!”

Michael had sealed the windows in his study to keep it secure, leaving me no choice but to scream for help.

“There’s an intruder in my house! Help me! Please call the police!”

But the houses in this villa neighborhood were spaced far apart, and my cries were drowned out by the blaring alarm.

Suddenly, the study door was kicked open, and Zack strode in with a sinister grin.

Before I could scream again, he clamped his hand over my mouth. At that moment, the doorbell rang from downstairs.

The security guards had arrived. Hope sparked in my eyes.

“Mr. Rivers, are you home? Some neighbors reported your alarm going off. Is everything okay?”

From downstairs, Mary’s hearty, reassuring voice responded, “Sorry for the trouble. Mr. Rivers isn’t home tonight. Mrs. River wasn’t feeling well and accidentally triggered the alarm during a little tantrum.”

But the security guards weren’t so easily convinced. One of them replied firmly, “Can we speak with Mrs. Rivers directly? Just to make sure everything’s alright.”