My husband, Alex Walter, was the head of the Bodyguard Association.

When I was about to be killed by the kidnappers, he was comforting his childhood crush, Susan Miller, who was sobbing in his arms.

While the kidnappers stopped for a meal, I called Alex five times calmly. He was angry when he finally answered.

"Susan was just rescued from the kidnappers, and she needs me. If you want me to come home, stop using your own kidnapping as some excuse to compete for attention. It is pathetic!"

Hearing Susan's sweet and delicate voice in the background, I had no time to argue with him. Instead, I called the Bodyguard Association.

The operator informed me that Alex had pulled all the city's bodyguards away thirty minutes earlier to rescue Susan. When the kidnappers returned, they mocked Alex's heroic efforts to save Susan, mobilizing the entire force for her.

If I remember correctly, this was Susan's twenty-eighth kidnapping this month. As the kidnappers approached me with guns and tasers, I closed my eyes in despair.

Before I died, I used all my strength to send Alex one last text message, [No matter what, I loved you. Move on from me.]

I stood before a body, beaten so badly that it was a bloody mess, limp and lifeless on the ground. Even though her breathing had stopped, her hands still clutched a handful of grass as if enduring immense pain.

The sock covering her face was blown away by the wind and revealed a terrifying expression with no eyes and shattered teeth.

I froze.

It was me.

I was dead.

Just two hours ago, I was kidnapped on my way home. Even though I offered to pay the ransom, they seemed uninterested in money. All their talk implied that they wanted my life instead.

While they were eating at a rest area, I stayed calm and managed to untie the ropes on my hands.

Alex Walter, my husband, was the head of the city's largest Bodyguard Association. After being with him for seven years, I learned a lot about first aid.

After freeing my hands, I searched the car and finally found the phone left by one of the kidnappers.

I saw they were still eating, so I called Alex, who had just run away from our wedding yesterday.

I tried calling five times as I felt my heart racing.

However, I was unable to reach Alex.

"Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later..." A cold female voice from the mailbox responded.

I double-checked if I had dialled the right number.

I tried to call the police, but then, I remembered him telling me, "Mia, 13560 is our emergency number. It is available 24/7. I will answer as long as you dial it. It's only between us."

I decided to dial the number I had never used before.

"Speak. Do not waste my time. I'm busy saving Susan."

Alex's voice almost brought me to tears. I knew how capable he was. I would be safe from the kidnappers if he ever came to rescue me.

"Alex, I have been kidnapped. All they want is to kill me. I do not know where I am, maybe at some rest area—"

Before I could finish, Alex interrupted me impatiently, "Enough, Mia! Are you really doing this now? Why not go to the police instead of calling me?

"Susan was just rescued, and she is emotionally unstable. What am I supposed to do? She is not just my sister; she is my client. I have a responsibility to protect her!

"We are just childhood friends. I don't know what you're jealous about. I'm not coming home if you ever do this again!"

As I heard Alex's harsh words, I dropped the phone and cried.

I heard Susan's delicate voice say, "Alex, you are so wonderful."

Then, Alex's cold words came through as he hung up, "By the way, Susan gets into danger more often than you. This number will be hers from now on. Give me the SIM card when you get home."

I remember when Alex gave me the SIM card as an engagement gift. His eyes were filled with tears, and his hands trembled as he handed it to me.

I did not cry hysterically but just bitterly looked at the wedding ring.

I wondered if Alex and Susan were really just childhood friends.

For the past six months, I had found several unfamiliar lingeries at home.

My intuition told me something was wrong.

However, out of trust in Alex and the seven years we had spent together, I convinced myself that these were just surprises he was preparing for me.

It was not until my twenty-fifth birthday that I came home early and found used contraceptives in the trash.

On the same day, Susan followed me on Instagram. Her stories were filled with photos of her in lingerie. I had seen almost every piece of them at home.

Long after, she sent a photo of a green, half-undressed lingerie set, asking sweetly, [Mia, my green lingerie is missing. Have you seen it?]

The green lingerie was covering Alex's head as he slept soundly. I was filled with rage and woke him up.

He explained impatiently, as he was still half-asleep, "Susan was kidnapped today. She came over to take a shower after I rescued her. Can you stop overreacting?"

Alex was devoted to his client but cold and indifferent to me, his wife of seven years.

How ironic.

As the kidnappers finished their meal and smoked, I could not afford to waste my time in self-pity. I quickly called the police.

However, the kidnappers messed with the phone, making it impossible to dial any emergency numbers.

Helpless, I called the bodyguard association's hotline instead.

"Sorry, ma'am, all the bodyguards in the city have been deployed by Captain Walter to the suburbs for a rescue mission. We will keep an eye on you and send help from the neighboring city in about two hours. Please protect yourself."

The operator then shared some self-defense tips.

Unfortunately, my feet were shackled, and the car doors were locked. The techniques Alex had taught me were of no use now.

As the kidnappers walked toward me, laughing, I could not help but shed a tear.

"Hurry up, I am afraid I will not last until then."

In my last moments, I sent Alex one final text, [No matter what, I loved you. Move on from me.]

I quickly deleted the message, threw the phone back onto the seat, and re-bound my hands.

The kidnappers, wearing caps and black masks, got into the car. After taking a glance over and finding nothing, they drove in an unfamiliar direction.

On the way, the two kidnappers spoke in their local dialect.

I only understood one thing—half an hour ago, Alex had pulled all the bodyguards from the city and sent them to the suburbs to rescue his 'kidnapped' childhood friend, Susan.

The kidnappers eventually escaped, but Alex successfully rescued Susan, and she was unharmed.

I could not help but laugh bitterly.

If I remembered correctly, this was Susan's twenty-eighth kidnapping this month.

Hearing my laughter, one of the kidnappers angrily struck my head with a metal rod.

Blood flowed down my forehead, and I tasted the blood on my lips. My mind kept replaying the scene from yesterday when Alex had fled the wedding.

He suddenly received a call and ran out of the wedding hall without hesitation, just as we were about to exchange wedding rings, leaving me behind with a ridiculous explanation.

"My client is in trouble. Sven will take my place in the ring ceremony."

Sven Walter, Alex's brother, was confused.

I got up in a disheveled state, watching Alex's resolute figure leave. My in-laws shot me a side glance, muttering that I could not even control my man. His relatives' eyes were full of mockery.

Only my best friend, my one and only family, rushed to the stage, crying, and pulled me away.

"Mia, this is too much. You shouldn't marry him!"

In the end, I put the ring that belonged to me on my ring finger, then tossed his ring aside carelessly.

After the unpleasant wedding banquet, I drank myself into a stupor, venting to my best friend.

"He planned the whole wedding—the invitation, the venue set up, the wedding rings. How could he not love me?"

My best friend sent me home.

I was restless, scrolling through my phone, when I saw a story post from Susan. She was holding a pair of bony hands with a heart drawn on them.

"I'm so grateful to have met such a great childhood friend. I've survived at the hands of the kidnappers again. He promised to always be by my side."

At that moment, I finally realized that the client Alex kept talking about, the one he would rather leave the wedding to protect, was Susan.

I called Alex, but all I heard was his mockery.

"Do you really want to get married that badly, Mia? Can't you live without a man? Stop bothering me, or I'll never come home again."

This morning, as he wished, I packed my suitcase and went to the lawyer to pick up the divorce agreement, signing my name on it.

Just as I was about to return the agreement, I was kidnapped by these two bastards.

The car stopped in front of a desolate, abandoned warehouse. One of the thugs saw my displeasure, sneered and spat his chewing gum at my face.

"A bride in her wedding dress, huh? This is the first time I've kidnapped a bride. Your husband must be looking all over for you, huh? So exciting!"

I had not even had time to change out of the wedding dress.

A bitter smile appeared on my face—he would never look for me; he was already sitting comfortably with his childhood crush carefreely.

Before I could say anything, I was roughly shoved out of the car and dragged into the warehouse.

"What do you want? Let me go, and I can get you the money; if it's power, I—"

"Shut up. I don't want anything. I just want—your life."

The mask was removed, revealing a familiar face.

This face looked remarkably like Susan's.

He approached me with a taser in hand, his laughter uncontainable.

"Why are you trying to steal my sister's man? He doesn't love you at all!

"You are in a world of pain!"

His accomplice shoved a sock into my mouth, its sour smell making me gag.

Then came the excruciating pain from every part of my body. They knocked me out with the taser, then woke me up by splashing ice-cold water on me.

Next, he gouged out my eyes with a small dagger, then hit my mouth repeatedly with an iron rod.

The exposed nerves in my teeth were stimulated by the cold water, causing excruciating pain.

I was engulfed by intense pain, my hands gripping the weeds so tightly that I did not even feel my nails digging into my palms.

The long torment continued, until two hours later, I finally stopped breathing in defiance.