I Let His Mistress Die, Now He's Burying Me Alive - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading I Let His Mistress Die, Now He's Burying Me Alive, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of I Let His Mistress Die, Now He's Burying Me Alive.
He watched, cold and remorseless, as the flames licked at my skin, consuming me inch by inch. Then, with a brutal shove, he kicked me straight into Bianca's grave.
Even as my vision blurred, I could feel Owen and my mother-in-law piling dirt over me, burying me alive. The memories of my past suffering burned fresh in my mind. Clenching my jaw, I shot my mother-in-law a venomous glare. Not this time. I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
I stopped digging, letting my bloodied hands fall limp as I fixed her with an icy stare.
"My hands are torn up—I can't dig anymore. If you don't help, we're both dead."
Above us, the building groaned, shifting dangerously. My mother-in-law shrieked and dropped beside me, clawing at the rubble like a woman possessed.
Time blurred as we scraped through the wreckage, our fingers raw and slick with blood, but hope seemed impossibly far. Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, my fingers brushed something sharp—buried in the debris was a pair of old high heels I'd tossed in the basement long ago.
We hacked at the packed earth with the heels, pushing past exhaustion until—light. A sliver of it broke through.
"Help!" my mother-in-law screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "We're alive in here!"
Shouts and footsteps answered. The rescuers worked fast, widening the gap until an arm reached down.
"Grab on! Now! The building's coming down!"
The memory of my last life flashed—how I'd let her go first, only for her to abandon me. Not again.
As she shoved past me, reaching for the hand just like before, I gritted my teeth and shouldered her back. This time, I seized the rescuer's grip and hauled myself up—
Then a yank from below nearly dragged me back. Her fingers dug into my ankle like claws.
"You think you can leave me behind?" Her voice was a hiss, venomous.
The rescuers shouted, "Ma'am, let go! We'll come back for you—you're risking both of you!"
She didn't budge. It took three of them to wrench us both free.
My ankle pulsed, swollen from her grip—proof of her hatred. Why? Last time, I'd saved her first. And even now, I hadn't pushed her down like she'd done to me. That mercy was the last kindness she'd ever get from me.
Just as I tried to stand, the world exploded again—a deafening crash as the second-floor wall teetered—then collapsed straight toward us.
Hopelessness crashed over me. So this is how it ends—not in fire, but under rubble.
The last thing I heard was the chaos of screams—before the world went black.
Even as my vision blurred, I could feel Owen and my mother-in-law piling dirt over me, burying me alive. The memories of my past suffering burned fresh in my mind. Clenching my jaw, I shot my mother-in-law a venomous glare. Not this time. I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
I stopped digging, letting my bloodied hands fall limp as I fixed her with an icy stare.
"My hands are torn up—I can't dig anymore. If you don't help, we're both dead."
Above us, the building groaned, shifting dangerously. My mother-in-law shrieked and dropped beside me, clawing at the rubble like a woman possessed.
Time blurred as we scraped through the wreckage, our fingers raw and slick with blood, but hope seemed impossibly far. Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, my fingers brushed something sharp—buried in the debris was a pair of old high heels I'd tossed in the basement long ago.
We hacked at the packed earth with the heels, pushing past exhaustion until—light. A sliver of it broke through.
"Help!" my mother-in-law screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "We're alive in here!"
Shouts and footsteps answered. The rescuers worked fast, widening the gap until an arm reached down.
"Grab on! Now! The building's coming down!"
The memory of my last life flashed—how I'd let her go first, only for her to abandon me. Not again.
As she shoved past me, reaching for the hand just like before, I gritted my teeth and shouldered her back. This time, I seized the rescuer's grip and hauled myself up—
Then a yank from below nearly dragged me back. Her fingers dug into my ankle like claws.
"You think you can leave me behind?" Her voice was a hiss, venomous.
The rescuers shouted, "Ma'am, let go! We'll come back for you—you're risking both of you!"
She didn't budge. It took three of them to wrench us both free.
My ankle pulsed, swollen from her grip—proof of her hatred. Why? Last time, I'd saved her first. And even now, I hadn't pushed her down like she'd done to me. That mercy was the last kindness she'd ever get from me.
Just as I tried to stand, the world exploded again—a deafening crash as the second-floor wall teetered—then collapsed straight toward us.
Hopelessness crashed over me. So this is how it ends—not in fire, but under rubble.
The last thing I heard was the chaos of screams—before the world went black.
End of I Let His Mistress Die, Now He's Burying Me Alive Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to I Let His Mistress Die, Now He's Burying Me Alive book page.