Chapter 1 - The Liquid Fire
The boiling oil hit my shoulder first.
It rolled across my neck and chest like liquid fire.
I screamed and collapsed onto the cold kitchen tile.
My husband, Julian, stood right above me and simply smiled.
He calmly adjusted his expensive suit jacket as I writhed in agony.
His mother, Eleanor, still held the heavy iron skillet in her hand.
Thick gray steam curled from the rim of the pan.
Her face showed absolutely no horror or regret.
She only looked irritated, as if my screaming was an inconvenience.
For six months, they had ruthlessly demanded that I sell the commercial properties my late father left me.
Julian’s real estate development company was drowning in massive debt.
They wanted me to liquidate my protected assets to cover his careless mistakes.
I had firmly refused them again just moments before the attack.
"I am divorcing you," Julian whispered, crouching down to look at my blistered skin.
"I absolutely refuse to live with this ugly monster anymore."
Eleanor let out a sharp, cruel laugh.
They honestly thought that physical pain would make me weak and obedient.
They did not know that my designer handbag was resting on the counter right behind them.
Inside that bag was a high-grade, voice-activated digital recorder.
It was currently capturing every sick threat and every malicious laugh.
When the paramedics finally arrived, Eleanor smoothly lied and said it was a cooking accident.
Julian played the role of the devastated, weeping husband perfectly.
They loaded my trembling body into the back of the ambulance.
As the doors closed, I looked back toward the kitchen counter.
May you like
My blood ran completely cold.
The designer handbag was entirely gone.
