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CHAPTER 7
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2025-11-26 15:40:43
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His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 7
The bracelet lay on his palm like a stain he could not scrub from his soul.Dominic had not slept well for a long while. His eyes tired, jaw locked, posture rigid with the kind of tension a man carried only when something inside him was splintering.Althea was gone.It was his fault.Or so the voice in his head whispered, repeatedly, with ruthless precision.He turned the bracelet over in his hand again. Cold metal. Her warmth gone.The memory of her falling—the scream, the drop, the sea swallowing her whole—played on a loop behind his eyes, relentless and merciless.He was about to ask his man to get him a glass of whiskey. But didn’t push through with his thought. He remained in his chair inside the VIP Holding Room. It will not be enough to numb him. Nothing had help.Four years.Four years of him chasing ghosts, of waking in the middle of the night reaching for someone who was no longer there. Four years of bargaining with God, with fate, with every cruel thing in the universe tha
His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 6
Four years later…The ER of Mont-Beaumont Medical Center pulsed like a living organism on the brink of panic.Alarms wailed. Stretchers rolled in relentlessly. Doctors and nurses shouted over one another, each second pushing the staff closer to their breaking point.A twenty-car collision on the main highway had turned a calm evening into a battlefield.“Vitals dropping in Bay 3!”“Intubate him—now!”“We need three more units of blood—go!”The metallic scent of blood seeped into every crevice of the emergency department, mingling with antiseptic and adrenaline. Medics burst through the sliding doors with yet another patient, their voices cracking from shouting over sirens.“CODE CRIMSON! Blunt trauma, unresponsive, massive blood loss!”The air shifted. Every medical staff member paused momentarily at the code shouted.Code Crimson meant one thing: A life hanging by the last thread.A veteran nurse rushed toward the incoming stretcher, glanced at the patient’s vitals, and paled.“Her p
His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 5
The storm had swallowed the coastline. Rain hammered the sand in relentless sheets, the wind tearing at tents, floodlights, and the men struggling against the elements. Dominic Valtieri stood unmoving among them—drenched, unblinking, carved from stone.His search teams—dozens of them—spread across the jagged shoreline, combing the rocks, dragging the waters, diving despite the violent current. Every order he gave was carried out instantly. No hesitation. No excuses.Find her.Find Althea.The command echoed louder than the thunder.Hours passed, and Dominic never once left his spot on the ridge overlooking the raging sea. His suit was soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes, sharp and burning, tracked every light, every movement, every diver that surfaced.He would not leave until he had her.He needed to know.The storm worsened as night fell. Waves smashed against the rocks like roaring beasts. Yet Dominic remained, his expression a terrifying
His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 4
Dom watched the tail end of a car’s headlights vanish beyond the service road curve. One of his men shouted from the front of the motel when he saw a car screeching and driving towards the road.He didn’t move.Didn’t breathe.His voice was quiet, deadly certain.“She was in that car.”His men looked shocked.“How can you tell, sir? In the dark—”Dom’s jaw tightened, gaze still locked on the vanishing road.“I don’t need light to know my own wife.”His hand curled into a fist.“She’s alive,” he murmured, something fierce igniting behind his eyes. “And she’s running from me.”A beat.“No,” he corrected softly. “She’s running from the man I used to be.”He stepped forward.“Get the cars. We’re following.”Althea POVOnly when the motel lights vanished behind them did Althea finally break.Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps.“He found me,” she whispered, trying to stop herself from going into panic. Tears profusely spill down her face. “Jess… he found me.”Jessica reached over and s
His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 3
Althea fought sleep for as long as she could.But exhaustion—physical, emotional, soul-deep—won.Her breathing softened. Her fingers loosened their trembling grip on the sheets. And slowly, her consciousness dipped into the one place she dreaded most.Darkness.Then—A door slamming open. Footsteps echoing like drumbeats.A shadow filling the doorway.Dominic.Even in dreams, the air around him turned colder.Her younger self stood frozen, still in her wedding veil, still naïve enough to believe kindness could not turn into chains.“Thea,” he said in that low, unreadable voice, the tone that used to thrill her—until it didn’t.Then the scene warped—The room stretching like a nightmare funhouse, walls bending, the bed growing taller, the lights flickering out. She saw his silhouette approaching, steady, inevitable.She tried to back away— but her feet sank into the floor like mud.“No,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Not again… please—”His hand reached for her.Her breath shattered.
His Dead Wife: No Longer the Surrogate Bride CHAPTER 2
Something was wrong.Dominic Valtieri felt it the moment he stepped into the west wing corridor— an instinctive, primal sensation scraping down his spine.The air was too still.Too quiet.The mansion, sprawling and opulent, was never silent. Even at night there were murmurs, footsteps, distant conversations, guards doing their rounds, the hum of servants performing the invisible labor that kept the estate immaculate.But now— nothing.A suffocating hush pressed against his ears, thick and unnatural.A void.A warning.He moved faster, long strides slicing through the corridor.“Althea?”His voice echoed back at him, swallowed by the silence.No answer.He pushed open the door to her room.The first thing he saw was emptiness.The bed—rumpled. The curtains—billowing from an open window that should have been bolted. A glass—shattered, pieces glittering like ice on the floor. And on the dresser, small and delicate under the glow of the lamp— her necklace.The one she never removed.A sl
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