When the Mistress Disappeared, My Fairy Tale Became a Nightmare

My husband, Ethan, a New York tech mogul, was having a blatant affair with Tiffany, his "assistant." Tired of the humiliation, I cancelled her company credit cards and booked her a one-way ticket to a remote Bali wellness retreat. His retaliation was swift and brutal. He had my parents, John and Mary, kidnapped from their Montana home. He sent me a video: them tied up in a dilapidated barn, a digital timer ominously counting down. "Tell me where Tiffany is, Sarah, or your parents' retirement ends now." Terrified, I confessed. He then coldly directed me to an abandoned lodge upstate where he claimed they were. Rushing there, the structure collapsed as I reached them – a trap. My father was severely injured shielding us. At the hospital, Dad reminded me of our ironclad prenup: Ethan's infidelity meant immediate divorce and a massive settlement, including properties. My parents had insisted on it. I'd been naive, thinking I could reclaim my dignity with a small act of defiance. Instead, I'd endangered my family. But Ethan had underestimated me, and the foresight of my small-town parents. The game was about to change. My escape, and his downfall, began now.