Reborn Before The Apocalypse; I Married My Ex-Husband Enemy

Ariana’s POV

“Victor! Please, open the gates!”

I struck the reinforced glass with both hands, barely feeling the impact through my frozen fingers.

Beyond the compound’s walls, infected figures staggered through the snow, their bloodied bodies moving toward the last signs of human life.

The wind cut through my clothes, and every breath scraped my throat.

“Victor, I know you can hear me!” I screamed. “Please! Let me in!”

A shadow appeared behind the glass.

My husband!

Relief rushed through me so suddenly that my knees nearly gave way.

I stumbled closer, pressing my palms against the barrier as Victor approached from the other side. He was wearing his usual black coat, his hair neatly combed despite the storm.

He looked warm, safe, and completely untouched by the nightmare outside.

For one foolish second, I thought he had come to save me.

“Victor!” My voice broke. “Thank God. Please, open the door. They’re coming!”

He stopped several feet away. There was no concern in his expression. No urgency. He regarded me with the detached patience he usually reserved for business partners who had wasted his time.

“You should have understood when I told you not to come back,” he said through the intercom.

I stared at him.

“What are you talking about? This is our home. You promised we would survive together.”

His mouth tightened, “You’ve already served your purpose, Ariana.”

The words made no sense. I searched his face for some indication that he was joking, that the man standing before me was still the husband who had held me on our wedding day and promised never to abandon me.

Then someone stepped beside him.

Selene….

My husband’s mistress stood close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm.

She wore my white winter coat, the one Victor had given me on our fifth wedding anniversary. I remembered how surprised I had been when he presented it to me, how I had kissed him and told him he didn’t need to spend so much money on me.

Now Selene’s fingers rested possessively on his sleeve. My gaze dropped to the coat.

“Why are you wearing that?” I asked.

She glanced down, smoothing the expensive fabric over her waist. “Victor gave it to me.”

I looked at my husband, waiting for him to deny it.

He didn’t.

“Tell me she’s lying,” I whispered.

Victor glanced at Selene before returning his attention to me. “Would that change anything?”

Something inside me went terribly still.

“You’ve been cheating on me?” I asked. “And how long have you been sleeping with her?”

“That’s not important anymore.”

“Not important?” I pressed my hands against the glass. “I gave you everything, Victor!”

My voice echoed across the compound’s entrance. Behind me, an infected man stumbled over a snow-covered barrier, then rose again with a guttural cry. I heard more of them approaching. I didn’t look back.

“I invested my inheritance in your company when your creditors were threatening to take everything,” I continued. “I sold properties my father left me because you said we needed the money. I paid for these generators, the supplies, the security systems. I helped build this place so we could survive together!”

Victor’s expression hardened, but not with guilt.

“You made those decisions yourself.”

“I made them because I trusted you!”

“And I never forced you to.” He adjusted his cuff as though we were discussing an inconvenient business transaction. “You wanted to be a good wife. You wanted to help your husband succeed. Don’t turn your choices into a debt I owe you.”

I recoiled as if he had struck me. For years, I had defended him whenever people questioned his decisions. I had overlooked suspicious transactions, signed documents he assured me were routine, and allowed him to persuade me that handling our finances was becoming too stressful for me.

Every time I hesitated, he kissed my forehead and told me to trust him. I had mistaken his patience for love and his promises for honesty.

“Did you ever love me?” I asked.

The question escaped before I could stop it.

Victor’s eyes flickered toward the approaching infected, then returned to mine.

“This isn’t the time for sentimental nonsense.”

I swallowed hard. “Five years of marriage, and that’s all you have to say?”

“I have spent months securing my position before the collapse,” he replied. “The company, the compound, the assets you thought we shared, I’ve made arrangements to ensure they remain under my control. You were useful to those plans, Ariana. You made things easier because you trusted me.”

My fingers curled against the glass.

“So you planned this? You knew you were going to leave me?”

“I planned to survive.”

“And I was supposed to help you do that.”

“You did help me.” He met my eyes without hesitation. “You just assumed that meant something more.”

Behind him, Selene shifted uncomfortably.

“Victor,” she said quietly, “are you sure we should leave her out there?”

For the first time, I looked at her with something other than hatred.

Perhaps she had a conscience after all. Perhaps, faced with my death, she had finally remembered that I was a human being.

Victor turned toward her.

“Don’t worry about her.”

He raised a hand toward the guards, “Close the inner doors.”

Panic seized me.

“No!”

I struck the glass again, then again, until pain shot through my hands. “Victor, please! You can’t do this! I’m your wife!”

He turned away.

“Victor!”

The doors began to close. He paused just long enough to look back at me.

“You should have understood the difference between being useful and being loved.”

The doors slammed shut. I stood motionless for a heartbeat, staring at the place where my husband had been. Then the infected cries behind me grew louder, dragging me back to the immediate danger.

I ran toward a vehicle abandoned near the perimeter.

My legs shook so violently that I nearly fell before reaching it. I grabbed the handle, but my fingers had grown too numb to work it properly.

“Come on,” I gasped, pulling harder.

The handle refused to move. A shadow lurched across the snow behind me.

I stumbled backward and fell. The cold struck through my clothes, and when I tried to push myself up, my arms barely responded.

Through the swirling snow, I saw several infected closing in.

Then an engine roared. A black vehicle smashed through the damaged outer barricade, scattering debris across the road. Armed men poured out, firing at the approaching infected.

A man strode through the chaos. I recognized him immediately.

Damien Cross!

Victor’s most feared business rival. The man whose name could turn a routine business meeting into a furious argument.

The billionaire who had spent years challenging Victor’s empire and investigating the scandal that had destroyed his own family’s company.

What was he doing here?

Damien’s gaze swept across the snow before landing on me. He stopped but something changed in his face. His composure cracked, and for one bewildering moment, he looked at me as though he had found someone he had been desperately searching for.

Then he ran.

“Sir!” one of his men shouted. “The infected are getting closer!”

Damien ignored him. He dropped to his knees beside me, shrugging off his gloves as he reached for my freezing hands.

“Ariana.”

He knew my name. I tried to speak, but my teeth chattered too violently.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice rougher than I expected. “Stay awake. Do you understand?”

I wanted to ask why he was risking his life for me.

Why Victor’s enemy would care whether his discarded wife lived or died.

Instead, Damien pressed something cold into my palm.

A black ring.

Its surface bore a strange symbol I had never seen before. I tried to close my fingers around it, but I could barely feel my hand. Damien leaned closer.

“Forgive me, Ariana,” he whispered.

I stared at him through the snow.

“W-what?”

His eyes searched my face with an urgency that frightened me more than the approaching infected.

“I tried to change it this time.”

Before I could ask what he meant, the world tilted. His voice faded beneath the wind, and darkness swallowed everything.

I woke up with a strangled gasp.

My hands flew to my chest as I dragged air into my lungs. No snow. No infected. No blood freezing beneath my fingernails.

Warm sunlight spilled across the bed. I stared at my fingers. They were whole, uninjured, and wrapped in the soft sheets of my bedroom. Beyond the open curtains, traffic moved along the familiar Manhattan streets.

Then I felt the mattress shift beside me.

Victor was sleeping next to me. My stomach lurched.

I scrambled backward until my shoulders struck the headboard, staring at the man who had watched me die.

His face was peaceful, his breathing steady. One arm rested across the space where I had been lying.

I had seen him close the gates. I had heard him tell me I was nothing more than a useful tool. I could still feel the freezing snow beneath my body.

Yet here he was, alive and warm, as though he hadn’t murdered every last piece of faith I had placed in him.

“No,” I whispered.

My gaze darted around the room, searching for evidence that I was dreaming.

My phone lay on the bedside table beside Victor’s. I grabbed his phone before I could lose my nerve.

The screen lit up. A message appeared.

Selene: I miss you. When are you finally going to tell your wife the truth?

My fingers began to tremble as I read the message again, then checked the date displayed at the top of the screen.

My breath stopped.

Ninety days.

Ninety days before the apocalypse. I slowly turned toward Victor. He was still asleep, completely unaware that the woman he had abandoned to die had returned.

The fear in my chest hardened into something sharper.

Last time, I had sacrificed everything to save him. This time, I would save myself.

I leaned closer to my sleeping husband and whispered the words I had never gotten to say before I died.

“This time, Victor, you’re going to lose everything.”