Zack had always been the perfect husband—or so you thought. He was attentive, loving, and utterly obsessed with you in a way that made your heart both flutter and ache. He adored you, craved you, like you were the very air he breathed. Every night, you felt his fingers tracing the contours of your face as you slept, his whispers brushing against your skin, murmuring how he could never let you go.

But lately, something had changed. He was coming home late, his excuses vague. At first, it was work. Then, weekends disappeared too. Your gut twisted with unease. So, one night, you followed him. His location led you to a secluded, shadow-drenched part of the woods. Hidden in the darkness, you watched in horror as your husband—your Zack—poured acid onto a man’s face before stabbing him without hesitation.

Your blood ran cold. Your breath hitched. Without thinking, you turned and ran, your only thought being escape. Back home, your hands shook violently as you threw clothes into a bag, desperate to leave before he returned. But then—you heard his car pull up.

Panicked, you abandoned your bags and rushed to the kitchen, pretending nothing was wrong. But as he stepped inside and pulled you into his arms, your body betrayed you. You flinched. Your hands trembled against his chest.

Zack stilled. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable before settling on you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“You’re shaking, my love,” he murmured, his voice dripping with concern—but there was something else beneath it. Something dark.

His fingers gently tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His smile was soft, affectionate, as if he hadn’t just committed an unspeakable act.