He shoved his nine-month-pregnant wife off an icy cliff just to pocket a $50 million life insurance policy. Today, at the funeral they think is mine, he’s standing with his secret lover, smirking like a winner. They think I’m dead… but they have no clue I’m still clinging to life, fighting my way back for revenge.
PART 2 (continued)
The first thing I remember after seeing his face was the sound of my own heartbeat.
Slow. Uneven. Distant—like it belonged to someone else.
The man on the rope knelt beside me as if the storm, the wind, and the freezing mountain around us had stopped existing entirely. His blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made it feel like I was being pulled back from somewhere I wasn’t supposed to return from.
“Emma,” he said again, this time more gently.
My lips were too numb to respond.
He suddenly turned toward the hovering helicopter and spoke sharply into his radio. I caught broken pieces of his transmission—pregnant, hypothermia, possible fractures, immediate evacuation. His voice was steady and professional, but his hands told a different story.
