My Husband's Pure Love Conspiracy

After being laid off, I took a blogger's recommendation and found a cheap moving company.

The five hours in the new rental house became my eternal nightmare. As they left, they threatened me.

If I dared to speak out, they would post the video online.

As soon as they left, I took out my phone and called the police.

Footsteps sounded again at the door. The returning thug said, "Disobedient," and slit my throat.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moving day.

Large and small boxes filled the rental house. This was my fifth year in Manvelle, my sixth move.

From the suburbs to downtown to a luxury apartment, I thought I was steadily rising. But it was all an illusion. The only thing connecting me to the upper class was my job.

After being laid off and my lease expiring, I had to move out.

Ring, ring. I answered the phone.

Roy's voice came from the other end. "Ms. Watsons, we've entered the neighborhood."

A chill ran down as the pain of those five hours was still vivid.

Given another chance, I had to find a way to save myself.

The luxury apartment required a password to enter, but I had already given it to them.

I dialed the emergency number. "Hello? I need to report a crime!"

A familiar deep voice came from the other end. It wasn't the police, it was Roy!

"Ms. Watsons, you seem very scared?"

My heart almost jumped out of my chest. How could this be?

I quickly hung up and desperately called my parents and boyfriend. But it was always Roy's voice on the other end.

Suddenly, I got a call from my boyfriend. I finally saw a glimmer of hope.

My boyfriend, Jack Collins, was a local and worked in public service. Although we had argued recently, he would surely find a way to save me in this situation!

I hurriedly answered. Before I could speak, Jack said he had work today and couldn't help me move. He told me to cooperate with the movers.

The door opened. A group of men in moving uniforms stood there.

The first time I saw them, I wondered why they were all men.

I remembered Jack always saying I was paranoid and lacked basic trust in people. I rationalized that most manual labor jobs were done by men, so I shouldn't be too sensitive.

Now I realized it wasn't sensitivity. It was my sense trying to save me.

"Ms. Watsons, just sit aside."

I looked at the seemingly amiable man leading the group. Everyone called him Roy. He looked gentle and generous, but I knew he was a complete devil. He was the one who killed me in the end.

"I... don't need to move for now. I found a new job. I don't need to move out."

But they ignored me. They only covered my mouth when I tried to shout.

The apartment had no cameras to protect tenant privacy. Although there were security guards 24/7, I had already reported my move to them, so these people wouldn't raise any suspicion.

Another layer of security was the daily changing electronic password, but I had given it to them that morning.

They taped my mouth shut. They put me in one of my own boxes and moved me to the new rental house.

When they tore off the tape, my cheeks burned. I realized I had never told Jack I was moving!

Looking at the familiar surroundings, I realized I died here last time. The new rental had a bad location but good soundproofing. I had confirmed it wasn't a partitioned room before renting.

Good soundproofing meant no one knew what was happening inside.

Seeing the leering men in front of me, I felt hopeless.

Given another chance, was it still the same ending?

The camera was turned on, flashing non-stop. I screamed in fear.

I really didn't want to experience the inhumane torture again.

I trembled. "Please let me go. I'll give you anything you want."

Roy laughed mockingly. "What do you have? You're not a local. Even if we sold all your family's organs, how much money could we get?

"Tsk, scared like this already? How will we have fun later?"

These people didn't care about my life at all. Their every action and tool were filled with malice and humiliation. They focused on the performative aspect and constantly had new ideas to inflict on me.

Roy just said it was about money and that camera.

"Who wants to watch me being tortured to death?"

...