My Firefighter Husband Left Me to Burn
983 Views · Ongoing · Daisy Swift
My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
He smashed the door open and saved me.
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
He smashed the door open and saved me.
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.













































