The price of betrayal

My husband's "protégée," a college girl he was sponsoring, got pregnant.

That little snake, she and my husband, they plotted to poison me.

They stole my car, my house, and my company.

They even beat my beloved golden retriever, Lucky, to death.

He crawled, whimpering, to my clothes, taking his last breath.

And finally, the pair of them cooked him up in a stew.

They devoured him like some sick feast.

01

I opened my eyes.

Lucky was right there, next to my bed, licking my fingers.

It was like a dream, but I was back, I had a second chance.

Lucky was safe, I was alive, and everything I owned was still mine.

Just then, a knock on the door.

It was the day my "protégée," Tiffany, was supposed to visit.

In my past life, I'd foolishly invited her to live with me, seeing her as a poor, helpless graduate.

And what does she do? Hooks up with my husband.

I opened the door, and there she was, Tiffany, all smiles.

"Hey, Claire," she said in this fake-sweet voice. "I told you I'd come by."

I looked at her empty hands.

"I've been helping you out for seven years," I said, cutting right to the chase. "You come visit, and you don't bring a thing?"

Her smile faltered.

She obviously wasn't expecting that.

I mean, the old me would have just brushed it off, figuring she was broke.

"Claire," she started, "I just graduated, haven't found a job yet. But once I do, I'll make it up to you."

"Could you help me out, though?"

I raised an eyebrow. Classic con artist, promises she can't keep. But I smiled anyway.

"Tiffany," I said, "I sponsored you through college, not to be your sugar mama."

"You can't find a job, so you come to me?"

She blocked the door with her body, trying to push her way inside.

"Claire, you're like a sister to me. You've helped me so many times, what's one more?"

Her eyes were hard, like she actually felt entitled.

I laughed, but it was bitter.

"Get off my property before I call the cops on you."

Yeah, seven years of my help.

Like I was her personal ATM.

The old me, I had this savior complex.

It was what got me killed.

02

"Who was that?"

I slammed the door shut.

My husband, still half-asleep, wandered out.

He wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling my hair. "Whoa, what's got you so riled up?"

I looked at the man I'd loved for seven years.

A chill went through me.

Without the horror of the last life, I would never have believed he could conspire against me.

I was an orphan.

No parents, just a few business partners.

I'd always seen him as my only family, so I gave him half of my company, even though he made peanuts compared to me. I married him, ignoring my friends' warnings.

"Claire, he's sweet, but you need to be careful," they'd said.

"Protect your assets; don't give him everything."

I'd never taken their advice.

And after our wedding, he was good to me.

But now, I had my doubts.

Maybe he'd been planning to kill me all along.

And Tiffany was just the tool he needed.

"What was it? Who was at the door?"

He...