Deserted Wife, Billionaire's Regret

My anniversary flight was about to board when my husband' s assistant, Chloe, appeared, tears streaming down her face, begging for my ticket because her mother was supposedly dying. It was absurd, but I told her to find another way, unaware of the trap I was walking into.

When I arrived home, my husband, Liam, confronted me, accusing me of abandoning Chloe. He then offered me a glass of water, which, unbeknownst to me, was drugged. I woke up alone, stranded in a scorching desert, the sun a blazing inferno above me.

A helicopter appeared overhead, and I saw Liam with Chloe, who was holding a phone, livestreaming my torment with the hashtag #AvaWalksTheDesert. They boasted about my family' s supposed bankruptcy and ordered me to apologize to Chloe. When I refused, Liam' s bodyguards took my shoes, leaving me barefoot on the burning sand, where rusty nails were then dumped in front of me.

I forced myself to walk, nails piercing my feet, leaving a trail of blood. The doctor on board screamed that I was losing too much blood, but Liam was unconcerned. Then, a sack of highly venomous desert vipers was dumped in my path, preying on my deepest fear.

I stood frozen, paralyzed by terror, as one viper slithered toward me and bit my calf. The doctor cried out for antivenom, but Chloe "accidentally" knocked the vial, shattering it. Liam, more concerned with his pride and the livestream than my life, demanded I apologize to Chloe and the camera for his "show."

"Never," I rasped, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Just as Liam' s bodyguards forced me to my knees, a military-grade helicopter descended from the sky.

Chapter 1

The airport buzzed with the low hum of people going places. I checked my watch. My flight was boarding in an hour. It was a last-minute booking on a budget airline, but it didn't matter. All I cared about was getting home to Liam for our anniversary.

Just as I found a seat near the gate, a frantic voice called my name.

"Ava!"

I looked up. It was Chloe Miller, my husband's assistant. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and puffy. She looked like a mess.

"Chloe? What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

She rushed to me, grabbing my arm. Her grip was tight.

"Ava, please, you have to help me."

Her voice was choked with sobs.

"My mom... she's in the hospital. It's bad. I have to get home, but every flight is booked. This is the only one."

She pointed a trembling finger at the gate sign. My flight.

"Please, can I have your ticket? I'll pay you back, I'll pay double! I need to see her."

I stared at her. The request was absurd. This wasn't a bus pass; it was a plane ticket with my name on it.

"Chloe, that's impossible. I can't just give you my ticket. The name won't match your ID."

I tried to be gentle, but the whole situation felt wrong.

"You can say you're me!" she pleaded, her voice getting louder. "Please, Ava. My mom could be dying."

Her desperation felt theatrical. I pulled my arm away.

"No, Chloe. That's fraud. And I'm going home for my anniversary with Liam. Find another way. Rent a car, take a train. There are options."

Her face fell. The tears stopped abruptly, replaced by a cold, hard glare I had never seen before. She straightened up, her "angelic" mask slipping.

"Fine," she spat, then turned and hurried away without another word.

The encounter left a bad taste in my mouth, but I pushed it aside and boarded the plane.

When I walked through the door of our home, I expected a hug from Liam. Instead, he stood in the living room with his arms crossed, his expression dark.

"What did you do to Chloe?" he asked, his voice low and accusatory.

I dropped my bag, confused. "What are you talking about? She found me at the airport. She wanted my plane ticket."

Liam shook his head, a look of deep disappointment on his face.

"She called me, Ava. Crying. She said you left her stranded when her mother is on her deathbed. She had to take a bus. It's a twelve-hour ride."

My head was spinning. "Stranded? Liam, that's ridiculous. I told her to rent a car or take a train. Why would she take a bus?"

His expression softened slightly, a gentle smile touching his lips. It was the smile he always used when he was about to convince me of something.

"You're right, honey. You're always so logical."

He walked to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.

"You must be exhausted. Here, drink this. Let's just forget about it and celebrate our anniversary."

He handed me the glass. I was tired, and his sudden change in tone was reassuring. I trusted him. I drank the whole glass.

The world started to get fuzzy almost immediately. The last thing I remember was Liam's gentle smile turning into a cold, triumphant sneer.

I woke up to a blast of hot air. My mouth was dry, and my head pounded. I wasn't in my bed. I was lying on hot, coarse sand.

Sand stretched in every direction, an endless ocean of golden brown under a blazing sun. There was nothing else. No roads, no buildings, no people. Just me and the desert.

A whirring sound grew louder from above. I shielded my eyes and looked up. A helicopter hovered in the sky.

Liam was inside, leaning out of the open door. Beside him, Chloe Miller sat with a smug smile, holding up a phone, its camera pointed directly at me.

Liam's voice, distorted by a megaphone, boomed down from the sky.

"You said transportation was so developed, Ava! Now let's see how you get out of here without a plane!"

Chloe laughed, a high, cruel sound that echoed across the empty landscape.

On her phone screen, I could just make out a livestream interface. A hashtag floated in the corner: #AvaWalksTheDesert.

They were broadcasting my suffering to the world.

My initial shock turned to cold fury. I got to my feet, my legs shaky. I looked straight up at the camera Chloe was holding.

"Seen enough?" I called out, my voice raspy but clear. "Come pick me up then."

The sound of my own voice gave me strength. They wanted a show. I wouldn't give them the one they expected.

A tinny voice, Chloe's, crackled from the helicopter's speaker.

"Oh, listen to her. Still acting like the high and mighty Mrs. Stone."

Then Liam's voice followed, dripping with contempt. "The live chat is going crazy, Ava. They're all talking about how the great Lewis family went bankrupt. Looks like no one is coming to save you now."

I glanced at the phone in Chloe's hand. I couldn't read the comments, but I could imagine them. Liam had spent years building a narrative of me as a spoiled heiress who looked down on his humble beginnings. He had isolated me from my family, convincing me they were disappointed in my choice to marry him.

The sun was relentless. Sweat poured down my face, and my throat felt like sandpaper. Each step was an effort. My head started to feel light.

"Just apologize, Ava," Liam's voice boomed again. "Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe for what you did to her. Tell everyone how cruel you were. Do that, and I'll let you come up."

Chloe leaned into the microphone, her voice sickeningly sweet. "It's okay, Liam. I'm used to it. She's always looked down on me. Do you remember that time she said my shoes were from last season? I walked home that day, my feet hurt so much."

I vaguely remembered the incident. I had complimented her shoes, and she had taken it as an insult. She had a talent for twisting everything.

"I remember," Liam growled. His anger was a performance, fueled by Chloe's words. "She thinks she's better than us."

I had never thought that. I had loved Liam. I had given up a future my family wanted for me to be with him. I had supported his business with my own funds, funds he now controlled. All because I believed in him. The realization of his deep-seated resentment hit me with the force of a physical blow.

He wasn't just insecure; he was cruel. He had planned this.

"She made your feet hurt, Chloe?" Liam asked, his voice dangerously soft.

"Yes," Chloe whimpered. "They were bleeding by the time I got home."

Another lie. But Liam bought every word.

He barked an order I couldn't hear. The helicopter descended slightly, and two of Liam's bodyguards jumped out, landing heavily on the sand. They started walking towards me.

I stood my ground, my heart pounding. What now?

"Chloe says you hurt her feet," Liam's voice announced from above. "She thinks you have no idea what it's like to suffer. So, we're going to teach you a little lesson in empathy."

The bodyguards reached me. One grabbed my arm while the other knelt down.

"The boss's orders," one of them muttered, not meeting my eyes.

He untied my sneakers, pulled them off my feet, and tossed them aside. They landed with a soft thud on the sand.

Then they retreated, jogging back to the rope ladder dangling from the helicopter and climbing up.

The chopper rose higher, a malevolent insect in the vast, empty sky.

I was alone again, barefoot. The sand wasn't soft. It was scorching hot, covered in tiny, sharp rocks that felt like glass under my soles. I took one step and cried out in pain.

The sand was like a hot skillet. Every step sent a fresh wave of fire shooting up my legs. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to move forward. Stopping meant baking to death under the sun.

The livestream chat was probably a frenzy of bets and cruel jokes.

`User482: I give her an hour. Tops.`

`LiamFan1: She deserves this! Go Chloe!`

`TruthSeeker: This is messed up. Is this even legal?`

Liam's voice came down again, full of false concern. "How are you holding up, Ava? Is it hard? Maybe now you'll think twice before being so arrogant."

Chloe's fake-pitying tone followed. "Oh, Liam, don't be so hard on her. It's just sand. I had to walk through thorns and over sharp rocks because of her."

Thorns? She had walked on a paved city sidewalk. The audacity of her lies was breathtaking.

I refused to look up. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The skin on my soles was already starting to blister. I kept my eyes on the horizon, a blurry line of heat and sand. I would not break. I would not give them the satisfaction.

"Thorns and rocks, you say?" Liam's voice was filled with a terrifying rage. "She needs to understand real pain."

He shouted another order. The helicopter circled and flew ahead of me. One of the bodyguards leaned out, holding a large bag. He upended it.

Hundreds of small, metallic objects rained down onto the sand directly in my path.

Nails.

They scattered across the ground, sharp points glinting in the sun. A minefield of rusted metal.

My blood ran cold. This wasn't just a lesson anymore. This was torture.

I stopped. I couldn't walk over that.

"Walk, Ava," Liam commanded from above. "Or we'll add something else to the mix."

I looked down at my feet. They were red and swollen, covered in angry blisters. Then I looked at the path of nails ahead. There was no way around it.

Tears of helpless fury welled in my eyes, but I blinked them back. Crying was a sign of weakness, and I wouldn't show him any.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I took a step.

A searing pain shot through my foot. I looked down. A rusty nail had pierced the soft flesh of my arch. Blood, dark and thick, pooled around it, staining the sand. I bit my lip so hard I tasted metal, stifling a scream.

I took another step. And another. Each one was a fresh agony. My feet were being shredded. Blood left a trail behind me.

The onboard doctor's voice, amplified and anxious, cut through the air. "Mr. Stone, this is going too far! Her feet are bleeding profusely. She's losing too much blood, and with this heat, she could go into shock!"

"It's just a lesson, Doctor," Liam replied coolly. "She's tougher than she looks. Besides, she brought this on herself."

"But her health records... she has a delicate constitution," the doctor insisted.

"She looks down on people like us, Liam," Chloe's voice whispered, just loud enough for the microphone to catch it. "She thinks we're bugs to be stepped on. Now she knows how it feels."

That was the final push. Liam's voice turned deadly. "You think you're above us, Ava? You've always been afraid of things that crawl on the ground. Let's see how you handle some real company."

My mind went blank with terror. I knew my deepest fear. He knew it.

The helicopter lowered again. The bodyguard reappeared, this time with a canvas sack that was writhing and twisting.

He opened it and dumped the contents onto the sand, a short distance in front of me.

Snakes. A writhing mass of them, slithering across the hot ground, their scales shimmering. Venomous snakes.

I remembered a conversation from years ago, laughing with Liam about my paralyzing phobia. He had held me and promised he'd always protect me.

That memory felt like a lifetime ago. I stood frozen, my mangled feet forgotten, my entire being consumed by a cold, primal fear. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

The world dissolved into a blur of sand and scales and the memory of a promise he was now breaking in the cruelest way possible.