My husband pushed me from an icy cliff while I was nine months pregnant, believing a $50 million life insurance payout mattered more than our lives. At my funeral, he stood beside his mistress with a smug smile and said, “They both froze to death. That useless woman got exactly what she deserved.”

My husband pushed me from an icy cliff while I was nine months pregnant, believing a $50 million life insurance payout mattered more than our lives. At my funeral, he stood beside his mistress with a smug smile and said, “They both froze to death. That useless woman got exactly what she deserved.”

2026/07/16

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The snow swallowed every sound—including my scream.

One moment, I was begging my husband to take me home. The next, Victor Hale’s hands struck my shoulders, forcing my heavily pregnant body backward over the edge of Blackthorn Cliff.

As I fell into the frozen darkness, I reached wildly for anything I could grab.

There was nothing.

Above me, Victor’s cruel voice carried through the storm.

“Don’t worry, Elena,” he called almost casually.

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“Your baby won’t suffer long.”

Then the world turned white.

I landed hard on a narrow ledge halfway down the cliff. Pain tore through my ribs, wrist, and swollen stomach. Blood filled my mouth while the icy wind cut through my clothing.

When I looked up, I could barely see Victor standing at the top.

Serena, his mistress, was beside him.

“Is she dead?” Serena asked, her voice shaking.

Victor laughed.

“For fifty million dollars? She better be.

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”

Then they left.

For almost two hours, I lay trapped in the freezing snow, struggling to stay awake.

I kept both hands over my belly, protecting my unborn son as I whispered again and again,

“Please... stay with me.”

Just as hope began to fade, a powerful searchlight swept across the mountainside.

A rescue helicopter.

But the man who came down toward me was not dressed like a rescuer.

He wore a tailored black coat despite the storm.

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