The Husband's Revenge

Chapter 3 : My revenge has begun

A tall man stood in front of the balcony, staring at the ocean. The evening breeze brushed against his hair.

“Young master, I got the information you needed,” a voice said from behind. His butler walked closer. He handed a document over, and Andrew took it and he opened it. His eyes scanned the pages, his expression darkening with each line.

“So, after taking the life of someone who was innocent, they went on to live a good life. I guess I have to take revenge myself,” Andrew said through clenched teeth. He crushed the paper in his hand, and grit his teeth.

It had been four years since he last saw them. Four long years spent in relentless training, preparing to take over his grandfather’s legacy ,because only with that power could he get the revenge he wanted.

He had never known his mother’s father was such a successful man. He still could not tell exactly what had happened to his mother, but deep down, he suspected his father. His suspicions began the day his father brought home a stepmother and her two children, one of whom was older than him.

“I will make them regret everything they made me pass through, and I’ll make sure to snatch away everything they hold dear,” Andrew promised in a low, venomous voice.

He stepped out of the mansion. Twenty men knelt in formation at the front yard, their heads bowed.

“Congratulations on your success, Master,” all of them said in unison. Andrew didn’t respond, he simply walked in between them, and got into the black car. The driver started the engine.

“Has all the arrangements been made?” Andrew asked, his voice calm.

“Yes, sir. Everything has been prepared. I’m taking you to the airport now to board the private jet to the mansion.” The driver explained.

“Okay.” Andrew said, pulling out his phone from his pocket. His thumb swiped over the images of his in-laws. They would be first. They were the real culprits, and the ones behind the death of his wife. He had no proof yet, but one thing he knew for certain, his wife was never sick.

The car came to a stop at a private airport. Andrew stepped out. The pilot walked down the stairs and bowed respectfully.

“Welcome, sir. It’s an honor to meet you,” the pilot said.

Andrew gave him a slight nod, climbing the steps into the jet. The door closed behind him, and soon, the jet flew off.

Hours later, it landed in front of a massive mansion, isolated far from the main city. Andrew got down, as his bodyguards in the new mansion, moved forward and greeted him. His butler followed closely.

“Where is he?” Andrew asked his nearest guard.

“He’s in the basement. We tied him up and started the interrogation,” the guard replied.

“Lead the way.” Andrew instructed.

The air in the basement was cold and dark, the right place for a torture and interrogation. A single hanging bulb giving light to the basement.

In the center sat a man tied to a chair with thick rope, his face full of fear and his eyes wandering around the basement.

It wasn’t just any man. It was the doctor who had overseen his late wife’s treatment, the same doctor who had conspired with Andrew’s ex-in-laws to kill her and harvest her organs for their biological son.

“Please, I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. I did nothing wrong! Let me go!” the doctor pleaded.

Andrew stepped forward into the light, his face now visible. The doctor’s eyes went wide.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were dead!” the doctor blurted out.

Andrew smirked coldly. “A dead man comes back to life, when he has unfinished business.”

“I’m glad you recognize me, it saves me the trouble of asking. Now… tell me what you gave my wife to make her sick and trick her into coming to the hospital?” Andrew asked in a low voice promising pain, if he refused to reply.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the doctor lied. “Your wife was sick, we couldn’t figure out the illness. We needed surgery to find out.”

Andrew tilted his head, his eyes dull. “So you’re still lying.” He took a slow step closer. “Since you took my wife from me, maybe I should do the same to you.”

One of the bodyguards pulled out a phone, playing a video. Andrew glanced at it, then turned it toward the doctor.

The footage showed the doctor’s wife, bound in a chair inside a warehouse.

“My wife has nothing to do with this! She’s innocent, please let her go, we have little children!” the doctor begged.

Andrew laughed. “Did my wife ever do anything to you before you plotted with her parents to kill her?”

He glared at the doctor who gulped.

“You gave her drugs that destroyed her health. Now I’m leaving the choice up to you, decide if your wife lives or not. You have ten seconds, tell me what I need to know or she dies.” Andrew said.

“One… two… three… four… five…” Andrew counted, but the doctor remained silent.

“I should also mention,” Andrew said, a smile on his face, “your mistress is with her. They’re side by side now.” He showed another video, this one of a woman crying, her mascara running down her face.

“Please, I didn’t do anything to anybody!” the mistress sobbed.

“Six… seven… eight…” The bodyguards aimed their guns at both women’s heads. Still, the doctor said nothing.

“Nine… ten.”

Andrew didn’t hesitate. He drew a gun from his waist, cocked it, and fired, shooting it at the doctor's foot.

The man screamed in pain, thrashing against the ropes.

“I thought you might care about your wife. Or your mistress. But it seems the only person you care about is yourself.” Andrew bent in front of him. “You’re a doctor, you know how much blood you’ll lose before you die from a wound like that. So tell me everything, names, details, or I will make you wish you’d never crossed my path.”

One of the bodyguards slid a chair across the floor. Andrew sat down, and stared at the doctor.

“I have all day,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “Start talking or die slowly.”