Lethal Baggage Chapter 1

My husband hooked up with his company's intern, and for a thrill, he hid her in a massive suitcase and brought her into our apartment.

Waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, I stumbled upon their affair.

When I confronted them, my husband "accidentally" shoved me out the window. I fell twelve stories and died on the spot.

He then took my inheritance and married the intern.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my husband dragged that suitcase through the front door.

"This is filled with hazardous materials from the lab. It's incredibly dangerous. Whatever you do, do not touch it!"

I nodded, then turned around and threw the suitcase into a junk removal truck the moment he left.

The sanitation worker asked, "What's in here? It's heavy as hell."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hazardous waste. Just incinerate it completely."

...

Chapter 1

* * *

Seeing Carter drag that familiar, oversized suitcase inside, I realized I had been given a second chance at life.

Before I could even speak, Carter barked a warning:

"Whatever you do, do not touch this suitcase."

In my past life, when he said that, I didn't ask questions. I just assumed it was equipment for his job.

Now, looking at this ridiculously large piece of luggage, I felt sick at my own past naivety.

That intern, Skyler, was inside it right now.

My fingernails dug into my palms, leaving crescent indentations, but I forced a smile.

"Why can't I touch it? What's in there?"

As I spoke, I reached out to "help" him pull the handle.

Carter violently swatted my hand away, his tone dripping with impatience.

"Did you not hear me? Don't touch it!"

"It's full of toxic materials. If it's exposed to light, it'll release lethal fumes. You breathe it in, and you're dead!"

"I'll take it to a disposal site later. Just mind your own business."

Hazardous materials? You can say that again.

I was sneering on the inside, but I made sure my face twisted into a mask of pure terror as I backed away.

"Why would you bring something so dangerous into our home? What if it leaks?"

Seeing that I had bought his lie, a smug look washed over Carter's face.

"Relax, I know exactly how to take care of it."

"Just leave it to me."

He deliberately emphasized the words "take care of," and subtly nudged the suitcase with his foot.

The suitcase shivered slightly against the hardwood floor, as if someone inside was fighting back a fit of giggles.

My eyes instantly turned ice-cold.

Sneaking a mistress into the house inside a suitcase for a thrill—they were using my home, and my existence, as part of their sick fetish.

The phantom pain of my bones shattering against the pavement ripped through my entire body.

I looked up and met Carter's eyes.

"Well, you make sure you take good care of it."

Carter let out his first genuine laugh since walking through the door, whistling a tune as he wheeled the massive suitcase into his home office.

That night, I pretended to be dead asleep.

A little while later, Carter slipped out of bed and crept down the hall.

The light under the office door flicked on.

Following the faint sliver of light, I walked barefoot and pressed my ear against the wood.