"Bur:n:ing with a 40°C fever, I was barely able to stand when my husband lashed out because dinner wasn't waiting on the table. I didn't argue or cry. Instead, I quietly signed the divorce papers he tossed in front of me. Smirking, my mother-in-law said, “Who do you think you're intimidating? Walk out that door, and you'll be begging on the streets.”

The blinding tactical spotlights completely illuminated the dusty interior of the warehouse.

Leo yelled for us to get down as a hail of heavy gunfire shattered the windows of our sedan.

I ducked beneath the dashboard, covering my head as glass showered over the leather seats.

Marcus grabbed a customized submachine gun from his duffel bag and returned fire through the broken back window.

The cartel mercenaries quickly spread out across the warehouse floor, closing in on our position.

Leo threw the car into reverse and slammed his foot entirely down on the gas pedal.

The sedan aggressively smashed into a stack of empty shipping crates, creating a temporary barrier between us and the shooters.

Leo kicked his door open and ordered us to run toward the underground maintenance tunnels.

We sprinted across the concrete floor, dodging bullets that sparked dangerously close to our feet.

Marcus laid down heavy suppressing fire, giving us just enough time to reach the rusted metal grate.

Leo pulled the heavy grate open, and we dropped down into the dark, damp sewer tunnels beneath the city.

We waded through the freezing ankle-deep water for nearly an hour, navigating by the dim light of Marcus's phone.

My fever had completely broken, leaving me exhausted but thinking with crystal clarity for the first time in days.

I realized that running and hiding would never stop a syndicate with unlimited resources.

The only way to end this was to remove the one thing keeping Ethan alive.

I told Leo and Marcus that we needed to go directly to my house immediately.

I explained that I had a hidden backup drive containing all the proof of Ethan's embezzlement and his cartel connections.

If I handed that drive over to the federal authorities, they would offer me full protective custody.

We emerged from a drainage pipe a few blocks away from my quiet suburban neighborhood.

We carefully moved through the shadows, avoiding the streetlights and neighborhood security cameras.

As we turned the final corner onto my street, I stopped dead in my tracks.

The dark night sky was glowing with a bright, terrifying orange light.

My beautiful two-story house was completely engulfed in a massive, roaring inferno.

Flames licked at the sky, and thick black smoke poured from the shattered windows.

Multiple fire trucks were already on the scene, spraying useless streams of water into the blazing wreckage.

I watched in pure devastation as my home, and my only leverage against Ethan, burned completely to the ground.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

Someone walked up behind me and placed a heavy, gloved hand firmly on my shoulder.

I turned around and came face to face with a smiling Ethan.

Chapter 8 - The Inferno