Chapter 3 - The Night of the Ashes
An extreme, cinematic close-up captured Vincent’s face. He went completely, deathly pale. His chest stopped moving. He stared at the three-year-old child he thought had turned to ash.
Three years ago, Vincent’s enemies in a rival cartel had supposedly planted a military-grade explosive under Anna’s car. Vincent had arrived at the scene only to find twisted, burning metal. The police told him there was nothing left to bury. The grief had nearly destroyed his entire empire. He had gone on a violent rampage, tearing the rival cartel apart piece by piece in the name of revenge.
And through it all, Sophia had been right there. She had held him while he wept. She had managed his household. She had convinced him that moving on and marrying her was what Anna would have wanted.
But Anna was right here. She was alive. And she had raised his son in absolute secrecy.
Vincent’s breathing became ragged. He took a slow, trembling step forward.
"Anna," Vincent choked out, tears of pure, overwhelming emotion welling in his fierce dark eyes. "You... you survived. He survived."
Anna finally looked up at him. She didn't smile. She didn't run into his arms.
She stood up slowly, keeping the little boy entirely behind her back, shielding him from Vincent with her own body. The warmth in her eyes completely vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying, and absolute hatred.
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"Don't you take another step toward us, Vincent," Anna warned, her voice a low, lethal whisper that sent a freezing shiver down his spine.
👉 Why does the resurrected wife look at her husband like he is a monster?
