Married To The Man... Who Killed Me Twice

Chapter 01

Two Heartbeats, One Nightmare

The scent of blood hit me first. Then I saw him—my husband, dying.

Helpless, he was dragged by the medical team.

The sound of his breathing with the rush of footsteps on the cold, sterile floor was all I could hear. His body was weak as they rushed him toward the ER.

His eyes caught mine, full of words that I couldn’t convey… my heart skipped a beat.

My legs trembled, unable to support me. The world shifted, and I struggled to steady my breathing.

My vision blurred, not from the hospital light but from the tears burning my eyes.

Moments ago I was told by my doctor that I was pregnant… and now I saw his almost lifeless body without even telling him the news.

I should be laughing, but instead, tears streamed down my face, my hands shaking,

as I pressed a hand to my stomach—two heartbeats.

One clinging to life. One just beginning.

“You told me it wouldn’t come to this,” I whispered, gripping the phone. “He’s in the hospital. Bleeding.”

I tightly clutched my bag as I left. I have no business being here.

“It was too late; there was nothing we could do.” I put the phone down weakly.

I closed my eyes tightly—frustrated as I massaged my temple. This wasn’t supposed to happen… if it weren’t for him and his family.

His family made my life a living hell. They took everything from me.

And yet, the man at the center of my revenge—the heir to their empire—offered me a marriage that would benefit us both.

A contract. A means to an end.

Yet, no one truly knows he has a wife and who I am.

I should have stayed cold and focused.

Revenge has been my only goal for years.

But somewhere in between the stolen glances and nights spent in his arms, I started to forget why I was here in the first place.

A mistake I might never recover from.

Love? Hate? Could the two inter-exist? To feel that with the same person?

I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I was back to the night I first saw him.

—3 years ago—

“I saw you looking at me earlier.”

“You must be hallucinating, because I wasn’t.”

He smirked and shook his head. He offered his hands, but I shook my head and chuckled.

“Some girls do that to get my attention, but it doesn’t work on me that easily.”

The air was filled with his manly scent with the smell of smoke and alcohol. The music was loud, making his voice almost impossible to hear.

His eyes illuminated the lights around the bar. It’s captivating but dangerous.

“What makes me different then? Seeing you here in front of me.”

I straighten my back, emphasizing my boob. His eyes traveled around my body.

He shrugged his shoulders. “There’s something about you.”

His eyes are intense as they look at mine. I was almost lost, but I looked away.

“Made me want to find out.”

I knew then that I was captivated, but nothing could stop me.

I needed answers… and to get back to them.

I’ve been thinking of ways to approach him. I’ve been doing research about him and his family for the past years, ever since my mother and father died.

But heaven is in my favor—he’s here in the bar I’m working at…successfully getting his attention.

**

That was just the beginning of the nightmare.

His image vanished, and I came back to my senses when my phone buzzed.

I gulp upon receiving an unexpected message, sighing—I drove to the place I despised the most.

“Why did you call me here? ”

Smoke filled the air as I stepped into the dimly lit study. His shadows stretched across the walls with the fireplace’s glow.

Across the room, he sat behind a grand mahogany desk, his fingers steepled, his sharp eyes locked onto me like a predator looking at his prey.

My pulse quickened, but I refused to let him see it. It seems that his opinion of me remains the same.

“You don’t look startled,” his voice smooth, almost amused. “Not even when your husband is on the brink of death.”

I looked down at the floor. The room is dark, covered with curtains, and only the small light and fireplace are lighting up the space.

I’ve only seen him twice, and this is the second time around; the first one was when Lysander introduced me as his wife.

“I’m stronger than I look.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “So I’ve heard.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. “Which makes this conversation all the more necessary… I want you gone.”

I clenched my fists at my sides. “Excuse me? ”

“You heard me.”

His tone was casual, as if we were discussing a business deal instead of my marriage.

“You’re a liability, a distraction. You serve no purpose in his life.” He slid a sleek envelope across the desk toward me. “Sign the divorce papers and leave. Quietly.”

My stomach twisted, but I refused to let him see my unease.

“You seem eager, but I’m sorry to disappoint you… that’s not going to happen. I’m sure my husband wouldn’t be happy when he hears of this.”

His expression didn’t change, but something dark flickered in his eyes. “Happiness has nothing to do with it,” he said smoothly. “Lysander is a Hawkie. And in this family, emotions are worthless.”

I turned on my heel and walked out without another word, but my heart was pounding.

Happiness has nothing to do with it.

His words stayed with me, circling in my mind as I drove home. The night was quiet, but my thoughts weren’t.

The accident. The news coverage. The investigation—it was all too much.

I returned home with a heavy heart… uneasy and panicking. Scared that officials are going to link the accident with me… and scared that I might actually lose him.

I pushed the door open and froze.

A woman stood in the middle of the living room. The soft glow from the chandelier cast a glow over her, making her appear almost ethereal.

She was elegant and poised—her perfectly styled hair and designer dress screaming money and power.

But it wasn’t her beauty that made my blood run cold.

It was the bag in her hands. Lysander’s clothes.

We looked at each other, confused.

“Who are you? ” I asked, which made her brows crease.

“That’s rude of you to ask. Don’t you know who I am? ”

I raised my brows; I didn’t dare to speak again. She smiled and looked around the house with a proud expression.

“I’m Lysander Hawkie’s fiancé… and you are? ”

My breath catches. My fingers curl into fists. My mind screamed at me to say something, to fight back, to demand answers—but I couldn’t.

Slowly, her words hit me like a blow to the chest.

Fiancée.

Not wife.

No. That can’t be. I’m his wife. I am… his wife.