“Don’t worry, my love. Tomorrow it will all be taken care of. After tomorrow, no one will be in our way.”
I froze, my hand suspended in the air.
“My love?”
My heart started pounding. A chill spread from my spine to the back of my neck. I pressed my ear carefully against the door.
His voice came again, lower now, almost pleased.
“I’ve planned everything. On that mountain road, if it rains even a little, the car slips easily. The police will think it was an accident. No one will suspect anything.”
My hands went numb.
The mountain road. The car. An acc:ident.
The next day was supposed to be our fifth wedding anniversary. Javier had told me he was taking me to a mountain spa, to a hotel overlooking the pine forest, a romantic getaway to ease the sadness of our childless years. I had packed warm coats and scarves and even told my mother-in-law:
“Mom, we’ll be away for a couple of days. Please take care of yourselves and don’t forget your medicine.”
Now I understood. That anniversary trip was never a celebration.
It was supposed to be my execution.
Then a woman’s voice came through the speakerphone, low and nervous.
“But what if she doesn’t die? I’m scared, Javier. I don’t want to go to prison.”
He laughed softly.
“Don’t be silly. I checked everything. If the car goes into that ravine, it’ll be completely destroyed. No one survives that. Once she’s dead, the mansion and the money in the accounts will be transferred to you. Just wait a little longer until you become my wife.”
“You promised, right? Don’t lie to me.”
The woman giggled.
The mansion. The money. Everything for her.
Each word felt like ice slicing through my chest. To my husband, I was not a wife. I was an obstacle. Five years of marriage, five years of humiliation, five years of trying to be enough in that house—and all of it was leading to a cliffside murder.
I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out. Inside the office, Javier continued in a whisper:
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