Chapter 3 - The Broken Angel
The heavily armored black luxury car tore through the city streets, leaving the opulent mansion far behind. Mia sat quietly in the plush leather backseat, clutching her white rose. Jack sat beside her, his jaw locked in a tight, agonizing line, staring out the tinted windows as they pulled into the worst, most dangerous district on the city's south side.
The car stopped outside a decaying, run-down charity clinic.
Jack burst through the clinic doors, his towering, muscular frame and dark navy vest instantly silencing the chaotic, crowded waiting room. Two massive bodyguards flanked him as Mia led him down a dark, moldy hallway toward a cramped, overcrowded ward.
Mia ran ahead, pushing through a faded curtain. "Mommy! I brought the magic rose!"
Jack slowly stepped through the curtain.
Laying on a thin, uncomfortable cot was a woman in her late twenties. She was incredibly frail, wearing a worn gray sweater, her skin pale and bruised from exhaustion and untreated illness. But beneath the sickness, the elegant bone structure and beautiful brown hair were undeniable.
It was Clara. She was alive.
Jack’s heart completely shattered. The most feared man in the city covered his mouth, tears of pure, overwhelming shock filling his eyes. "Clara..." he choked out.
Clara slowly opened her eyes. When she saw the towering, tattooed mafia boss standing in her hospital room, she didn't smile. She didn't cry tears of joy.
Instead, a look of pure, unadulterated terror violently washed over her face.
Clara let out a blood-curdling scream of absolute panic. She ignored her IV line, ripping it out of her arm, and desperately lunged forward to pull Mia behind her back, shielding the six-year-old girl with her own fragile body.
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"No! Please!" Clara shrieked hysterically, pressing herself against the peeling wall. "Don't let him touch her! I kept my promise! I never came back! Please don't kill my baby!"
👉 Why is the resurrected wife terrified of the husband who spent six years mourning her?
