Chapter 1HEAT APOCALYPSE. NOW.
I just had my baby. Hospital bed still warm.
I'm shaking, dialing my husband. "Babe, come get us—"
His secretary answers.
"He says he's saving himself first."
"Girl, it's 54°C outside. You want him dead?"
Last time? I TOLD him. Bunker downstairs. Heat-proof car ready. Supplies for MONTHS.
He never showed.
Me and my newborn? Cooked alive in that room.
Watched my ghost float home—he's screwing his PREGNANT secretary in MY bunker. Playing daddy to HER kid.
Never came looking for us. Not once.
Now I'm back. Day one.
This time?
He's the one who burns.
"Girl, you can't be this selfish."
"If he comes for you? You're BOTH dead."
That voice. I know that voice.
Holy shit—I'm back.
My baby's ALIVE. Right here in my arms, little fingers in her mouth, pudgy and perfect. Last time I watched her choke to death, her tiny face turning purple while her daddy played house with his pregnant mistress in MY bunker.
I crush her to my chest and kiss her forehead, my heart pounding.
"Mr. Cross will wait three days," Sophie says sweetly. "If you survive, you're still his wife."
Her voice drops.
"If you don't? Guess he'll just have to marry me instead."
Click.
Not this time, bitch.
They'll NEVER know about that bunker. Not him, not her, nobody.
I'm a top-level national researcher—I knew this was coming a YEAR ago. Signed an NDA, built that bunker in secret, stocked it with everything we'd need.
For my family.
Well, NEW family now. Just me and my girl.
The hospital speakers drone on: "Citizens, extreme heat event. Projected high: 70°C. Shelter in place. Await rescue."
Rescue? What a joke.
I know better than anyone—there IS no rescue.
We predicted this at the lab a year ago, but we're fucked. We couldn't even nail down when it would hit, just that it would.
Today it did.
One hour—31°C to 54°C.
Most people don't get what 54°C means. Your sweat stops working. Body temp spikes past 40°C in ten minutes. Brain shuts down. Coma. Death.
The bunker's two hours away, and even with AC blasting, the asphalt's gonna hit 80°C. Regular tires melt, engines die halfway.
I'd need four, maybe five cars to relay between.
Where am I getting that? I don't even have ONE.
The speakers crackle: "All patients and families—do NOT leave. The cafeteria will provide emergency shelter."
Someone's sobbing nearby. "My kid's home alone—"
Another voice: "Thank God I'm here. My AC's busted."
I'm holding my newborn, trying to figure out how to reach that bunker.
For most people, staying or going won't matter. They're dead either way.
I need a doctor with a car. Doctors are useful in an apocalypse.
I step into the hallway.
And freeze.
Walking out of the OB-GYN office—Lucas Cross. My husband.
And HER.
Sophie. His goddamn secretary.
Chapter 2
Last time they lied. Said he was at the villa—couldn't make it back in time.
I bought it. Stayed in that hospital room. Waited like a fool.
Two days later I was dead, thinking my husband was just too selfish to save me.
But now I'm early.
And there he is.
Lucas. RIGHT HERE. At the hospital.
He got Sophie out just fine. Drove her straight to the villa.
But me? His wife of ten years? The mother of his child?
We can die here for all he cares.
My vision goes red. The hallway tilts.
They're too wrapped up in each other to notice me. Every word cuts like glass.
"You're carrying my SON, babe. No way I'm leaving you stuck here."
"You're not like Grace. You're my everything. Her?" He snorts. "Let her rot."
Sophie leans into him. "What about your daughter though?"
Lucas actually laughs.
"Better off gone. I'll give YOUR kid everything instead."
"Honestly, if it didn't feel so much better without a condom, you think I'd have gotten her pregnant?"
The words slam into me.
I'm gripping my baby so tight my arms shake. She's the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
Even knowing what he did in my last life, I STILL didn't get how sick this man really is.
Ten years. I shared a bed with a monster and never knew.
Dozens of hospitals in this city. He picked THIS one. Where I'm giving birth.
Lucas doesn't care if I find out. He WANTS me to see.
He's been planning to dump us like garbage all along.
The AC's running full blast but the air feels wrong. Heavy. Hot.
They disappear around the corner.
I force my legs to move. Track down my OB.
"Dr. Kim." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "You're alone in this city, right? No family here?"
She nods slowly.
"I've got a bunker. You get me there, we both walk out of this alive."
She glances toward the loudspeakers still droning about shelter-in-place. Hesitates.
Too many people around. Can't explain everything here.
I just look down at my daughter. "I wouldn't gamble her life if I wasn't dead sure."
Dr. Kim meets my eyes.
Nods.
Underground garage. Car keys in my hand.
Almost there.
Then headlights cut through the dark.
Lucas steps out, blocking my door.
"Grace? The hell—were you FOLLOWING me?"
Chapter 3
"You're seriously this low now, Grace?"
Lucas grabs me by the shirt and drags me out of the car.
I'm clutching the baby. She's WAILING.
He doesn't even look at her.
"Stay at the hospital like I told you. We don't have room for everyone."
"Sophie's pregnant. It's a boy. She needs the space more than you do."
Dr. Kim jumps out to help me.
She thinks fast. "I'm taking Grace to MY apartment. We're not going to your place."
Lucas laughs in her face. "Yeah, right. I don't trust Grace. Can't even give me a son. Worthless."
He shoves Dr. Kim so hard she stumbles. Grabs her keys right out of her hand.
Two women and a screaming newborn. What are we supposed to do?
But he's not finished.
He walks back to his car. Opens the trunk.
Pulls out a screwdriver.
And STABS all four of Dr. Kim's tires.
Just like that.
Then he gets in his car and drives off like we're roadkill.
Sophie rolls down the window as they pass. Gives me this sickly sweet smile.
"Good thing we didn't bump into you earlier, huh? You could've kept a shred of dignity."
"Bye, Grace. Try not to die."
The garage is already pushing 34°C.
Dr. Kim's freaking out, calling coworkers, begging to borrow a car.
We start driving toward the bunker, trying to set up car relays along the way.
Turns out nobody's renting cars during a heat apocalypse. Shocker.
Every rental place we hit is either sold out or flat-out refusing. Too scared their vehicles will melt on the asphalt.
But we get lucky.
We detour to a cold storage facility nearby.
And sitting there in the loading bay—refrigerated truck. Engine running. Keys in the ignition.
The food's been looted, but there's MOUNTAINS of ice left behind.
Literal gold right now.
We pack the truck full, crank the fridge to max, and gun it straight to the bunker.
My bunker's got two ways in—one tiny passage from the villa's panic room, and one vehicle entrance big enough for trucks.
This beast barely fits. But it fits.
Dr. Kim steps out and her jaw DROPS.
Solar panels keeping the AC ice cold 24/7. Water pulled straight from underground aquifers—no city pipes needed.
Food? A hundred square meters of canned goods, dry stock, MREs. PLUS a full mini farm—UV lamps growing tomatoes, wheat, greens. Mealworms breeding to feed the chickens.
Just the three of us? We could live off the farm alone. Forever.
And that's not even counting the extras. Books. Board games. Weights. Treadmill. I planned for EVERYTHING.
Dr. Kim just stares at me. "Grace... are you a time traveler or something?"
She can't figure it out. I look like some betrayed trophy wife. How the hell did I build THIS?
Because I took a career break to have his baby.
In reality? Lucas couldn't carry my briefcase.
I work for the National Research Institute. One line item in my budget could BUY his company three times over.
I head to the security station and pull up the monitors.
Every room in the villa. Live feed.
I installed this to protect Lucas and the baby from break-ins.
Now I'm using it to protect myself from Lucas.
I think about what he did in that garage. The look on his face.
Ten years. I gave him TEN YEARS.
I ball my fists.
Fine.
Let's see how long he lasts up there without me.
