White hot agony tore through Ethan Carter’s abdomen.A rusted, serrated blade was chewing through his flesh, carving him open inch by bloody inch. His sight flickered.Through the haze, a familiar face appeared above him. The face of the woman he had once trusted more than anyone in the world.Victoria Bennett Carter. His wife.There was no sorrow in her eyes. No fear. No pity. There was only a terrifying, hollow hunger.“Don’t hate us, Ethan.” Her voice shook, though he could not tell whether it was from the cold or excitement. “It’s fifty degrees below zero. We need something to eat.”Ethan stared at her, his mind unable to process what he was hearing. His lips parted but no words came out.The woman he had spent years loving, years protecting, years bleeding for, was looking at him the way a butcher looks at livestock.“She’s right.” A male voice drawled from behind her, sickeningly casual. “You’ve kept us alive this long. You won’t mind being useful one last time, will you?”Derek

The front door slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a fresh dent in the plaster as Ethan strode into the house.Everything was exactly as he remembered.The artificial flowers Margaret, Victoria’s mother, had arranged on the entry table like she owned the place.The staircase runner sitting slightly crooked because Robert, Victoria’s father, had installed it himself and refused to let anyone fix it.And there was that distinct, lingering aroma of Victoria’s perfume, a scent that had, year by suffocating year, entirely overwritten the smell of the home his parents had built.This was his house. His parents had raised him here. They had died here. And somehow, without Ethan ever noticing, the Bennett family had moved in and colonized every corner of it like termites hollowing out a foundation from the inside.Hearing the door, Robert marched out of the living room wearing the grave expression he always adopted before issuing orders disguised as family advice.He was a thick necked

Ethan Carter woke up in a hotel suite that cost more per night than he used to earn in a week.He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the reality settle over him like warm water. The folder full of winning lottery tickets sat inside the hotel safe three feet from his bed. Five hundred million dollars. And today, he was going to collect every cent of it.He ordered breakfast from room service. Eggs Benedict, fresh squeezed orange juice, a pot of coffee that smelled like it had been roasted that morning, and a plate of fruit he couldn’t even name half of. When the cart arrived, he sat by the window and ate slowly, watching the city move fourteen floors below.In his previous life, breakfast had usually been whatever Victoria’s family left behind. Cold toast. Half a bowl of cereal. Sometimes nothing at all, because Margaret had decided the groceries Ethan paid for were reserved for Noah first, then Robert, then herself, and whatever remained was Ethan’s share.He fini

At the exact mention of twelve million dollars, all three of them suddenly found a remarkable burst of wild energy.Robert, Margaret, and Ryan shot out the front door like hungry dogs chasing a fresh piece of meat. They completely forgot about Victoria standing alone in the living room. They did not care about her feelings or her broken marriage. Their greedy minds were entirely focused on the massive fortune sitting directly across the street.Robert and Ryan made it to the giant mansion first. They stopped in their tracks when they found a large crowd already gathered outside the property.The massive estate sat behind an elegant and tall wrought iron fence. A beautifully landscaped front yard full of bright flowers separated the paved street from the main house. Since no one could get inside the locked gates, the curious neighbors had clustered along the metal fence. They were craning their necks high into the air for a better look at the luxury property.“Robert is here!” someone