Revenge On My Deceptive Bride

The cold prickle of the lethal injection syringe was my last sensation.

Then, I gasped, choking on air, my lungs burning as I shot upright in my own bed.

It was the morning of the day my life ended the first time.

Framed for a brutal hit-and-run, I' d watched my family crumble and my fiancée, Chloe, look on with pity-filled eyes.

Now, the date on my phone confirmed it. I was back.

A soft knock, and Chloe stood in the doorway, smiling.

Her presence, once comforting, now sent a jolt of pure fear through me.

I remembered the courtroom, her sorrowful gaze-it felt like a prelude to my personal hell.

"Leo, you awake? I made breakfast."

Her voice dripped with concern, a perfect performance.

My instinct screamed: change everything.

I told her I wasn' t feeling well, cancelling the fateful drive.

Her smile flickered, a micro-expression of annoyance I' d missed before.

Hours later, I heard her hushed voice from the living room, tight with frustration.

"No, he didn' t go," she hissed. "The point is to ruin him, whether he' s on the coast road or sitting on his damn couch. Find another way."

My world tilted. The woman I was to marry was plotting my destruction.

The cold dread of betrayal numbed me, then a white-hot rage ignited.

I bolted, my mind a blur. I had to run, to put distance, to survive.

But she was standing there, a fresh smile on her face.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

I pushed past her, fumbling with the lock, her voice calling my name echoing like a curse.

I ran until I hit the street and called my best friend, Matt.

He picked me up, confused but loyal.

I told him Chloe was setting me up, omitting the rebirth.

"Chloe? She adores you. Maybe you misunderstood."

"I didn' t misunderstand, Matt! I heard her. She said, 'The point is to ruin him.' "

He believed me, taking me to his apartment, the safest place on Earth.

I hoped I had dodged the bullet.

Then the news broke.

"Police in Oceanville are searching for a suspect in a violent hit-and-run that occurred just an hour ago on Seaside Boulevard."

My blood froze. Seaside Boulevard was nowhere near the coast road.

But the face on the screen was mine.

LEO VANCE. Wanted. Dangerous.

My beer bottle shattered.

"Leo," Matt whispered, his face pale. "What the hell is this?"

Confusion turned to anger. "You lied to me! You were driving! You involved me in this!"

The sirens wailed. They had found us.

Just like before. The trap wasn' t a location; it was a narrative.

And it had snapped shut around me again.