Chapter 1

"My husband is trying to kill me." The words scraped past my swollen, burning throat.

I stared desperately into the eyes of the ER doctor, praying he could see the absolute terror in mine.

"He put peanut butter in my oatmeal. He knows I am deathly allergic. He watched me eat it."

Marvin fell to his knees beside my bed. He buried his face in my hands, his shoulders shaking with violent, theatrical sobs.

"I'm so sorry!" Marvin cried out. "God, Denise, I'm so sorry! I just forgot! We were rushing this morning, and James was crying, and I just wasn't thinking! Please, baby, you have to believe me!"

He looked up at the doctor, his eyes red and brimming with tears.

The doctor gave me a sympathetic, patronizing smile.

"Anaphylactic shock is a terrifying experience, Mrs. Sterling," the doctor said in a calm, soothing voice. "It can cause severe panic, confusion, and even paranoia. Your husband acted fast. He administered the EpiPen and brought you in right away. He saved your life. I'll go check on your discharge papers."

"No, wait—" I choked out, reaching for the doctor.

But the door clicked shut.

The second the latch caught, the temperature in the room plummeted.

Marvin’s tears stopped instantly. He stood up slowly, brushing the imaginary dust off his expensive jeans. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"You always were a dramatic bitch, Denise," Marvin whispered.

He tapped the screen and held the phone up to my face.

My breath hitched. It was a video of me. But it wasn't real. In the video, I was screaming hysterically. I was throwing plates against the kitchen wall, tearing my own hair out, and screaming that I wanted to hurt our three-year-old son, James.

It was flawless. The lighting, the voice, the frantic movements—it was a terrifyingly perfect deep-fake.

"What is that?" I breathed.

"This is my insurance policy," Marvin said smoothly. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. He leaned down, bringing his face inches from mine. "If you ever accuse me of anything again, I will show this to the judge. I will prove to the court that you are violently mentally unstable."

I stared at him, completely paralyzed by the monster wearing my husband's face.

"I will take full custody of James," Marvin hissed. "And I will have you locked in a psych ward so fast your head will spin. You will never see our son again."

Tears of pure, helpless terror spilled down my cheeks. "Marvin, please..."

"Be a good wife, Denise," he commanded coldly. "Or you lose him forever."

The door handle rattled. Marvin instantly grabbed my hand, kissing my knuckles just as the doctor walked back into the room holding a clipboard.

"Alright, Mrs. Sterling, your vitals are stable," the doctor smiled. "Are we feeling a bit calmer now?"

I looked at Marvin. I swallowed the bitter bile in my throat.

"I... I made a mistake," I croaked, the lie burning my tongue. "It was an accident. I was just scared. My husband... he took good care of me."

Marvin kissed my forehead. "Always, baby."

The drive home was suffocatingly silent. But the moment we stepped through the front door of our house, Marvin transformed back into the perfect, doting husband.

He carried me up the stairs. He tucked me into our large, plush bed, pulling the heavy duvet up to my chin.

He brought me a glass of ice water and gently brushed the damp hair from my sweaty forehead.

"I love you, Denise," he murmured, his voice thick with fake emotion. "I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"

I stared at the ceiling, too exhausted and terrified to speak.

"Remember when we first met?" Marvin whispered, stroking my cheek. "After your father died. You were so broken. You had nothing. I saved you from the dark, Denise. I paid for the funeral. I held you every night while you cried. I am your protector. You're just exhausted from the allergic reaction. Your mind is playing tricks on you."

He kissed my temple and walked into the master bathroom to shower.

I closed my eyes, the gaslighting sinking its toxic claws into my fragile mind. Was I crazy? Was the video just a bluff? Maybe he really did just forget the peanut butter. He had been so good to me when my dad passed away.

Hours later, the house was pitch black. A freezing chill crept through the bedroom.

I shivered, realizing the space beside me in bed was empty.

I needed a blanket. I slipped out from under the thin sheets and walked quietly out of the bedroom. I walked down the dark hallway, heading toward the guest bedroom at the end of the corridor to grab a spare quilt.

As I neared the door, I froze.

A soft, breathless moan echoed in the quiet house.

Then, the unmistakable, wet slap of skin against skin.

The guest room door was slightly ajar, a thin sliver of pale moonlight spilling out into the dark hallway. I crept closer, my heart hammering so violently I thought it would crack my ribs.

I held my breath and peered through the narrow crack.

Marvin was there.

His hands were tangled tightly in long, blonde hair. He was thrusting aggressively into a woman, her bare legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She threw her head back against the pillows, gasping his name in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

It was Louise.

My stepsister.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the shattered sob tearing up my throat.

"God, Marvin," Louise whimpered, her manicured nails digging deep into his bare back. "When is this going to end? I hate sneaking around like this. I want you all to myself."

Marvin kissed her neck, his movements not slowing down for a single second.

"Soon, baby," Marvin promised, his voice a dark, cruel echo in the shadows. "Don't worry. Denise will be out of the picture soon."