ManyWriters

When I received the evidence from my client, I almost choked.
He said, his voice seething with anger, "This is the man my wife is sleeping with. She lied to me, tricked me into marrying her! None of it was real!"
My eyes were glued to the name—Alexander Mitchell.
"You know him?"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
"He's my husband of seven years."
Days later, I was kidnapped and thrown into an abandoned courthouse. The acrid stench of gasoline stung my nostrils, and then, a spark from a lighter sent flames roaring to life.
I screamed with every fiber of my being, a raw, desperate cry torn from my soul, "Alexander..."
I heard footsteps outside the door and a desperate hope flared within me—he had heard me.
But he just walked away, holding the woman in his arms, without so much as a backward glance.
I thought I was going to die in that inferno, but fate gave me a chance to fight back.
This time, it's their turn to pay the price.

Guilty as Charged

Thinking back now to that chance encounter at the alumni reunion.


Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence at all.


Since she already tried to kill me, I won't be holding back anymore.


After Alexander took Isabella from the abandoned courthouse, he immediately arranged for her to be admitted to an exclusive private hospital.


Isabella had only suffered a small scrape.


Yet Alexander acted as if it were a major crisis, hiring the best doctors to care for her.


"Alexander, I told you I'm fine. There's no need to make such a fuss..."


Isabella cooed, nestling into his embrace.


His eyes filled with tenderness as he stroked her hair. "I can't stand to see you get even the slightest scratch. It would break my heart."


Isabella gave a shy smile, but her hand snaked naughtily toward his waist.


Before she could touch him, Alexander caught her hand.


Alexander frowned, his gaze subconsciously drifting to the silent phone on the table.


Chapter 8