My Wife Has Been Dead for Five Years. Today, She Sent Me A Text...

Five years ago, I signed her death certificate and watched the staged fire consume everything she was. I thought I had buried my sins deep enough, securing my ruthless empire forever from the apex of power. Until tonight at 2:14 AM, when a dead phone in my silent bedroom suddenly lights up. No greetings. Just a pair of coordinates and a chilling, crimson digit: 3. As I race toward the abandoned asylum, the countdown begins. One by one, my most trusted inner circle are brutally and methodically slaughtered in the dark. The numbers drop—from 3 to 2, 2 to 1—leading straight to the heart of my fortified mansion. The revenant I locked away in a concrete hell has returned, and she isn't coming back for a reunion. She is here to tear my gilded cage down brick by brick, reduce my entire legacy to ash, and make me watch as she takes back everything I stole.