Chapter 3

Next, I had to stock up.

The earthquake sent everyone into a panic, and people started hoarding like crazy—every supermarket was stripped bare.

But I had money to burn.

I went directly to the suppliers and bought them out at double the price.

With the earthquake as my cover, they didn't bother asking why I needed so much. They just figured I was some rich lady playing it safe.

While the suppliers loaded my orders, the contractor already had his crews working around the clock.

They were laying down soundproofing, rebuilding walls, running all the pipes and wiring, and moving in the decor. Everything was coming together even faster than I'd expected.

I threw out another demand: besides the basic living space, I wanted him to work with suppliers and turn part of it into a shopping paradise, stocked with all the clothes, bags, and makeup a woman could ever want.

The contractor was so stunned that his hands were shaking.

"Ma'am, seriously, this time I just can't pull it off," he stammered.

I turned around and opened up the safe without a word.

He instantly zipped his lips and got to work, building shelves right there with whatever was at hand.

Before sunrise the next morning, delivery trucks were already lining up outside.

They unloaded hundreds of pounds of pasta, canned goods, eggs, milk, peanut butter, coffee, beans, and all the essentials.

Good thing the freezers and shelves were already set up.

The basement was basically a giant pantry, and those long-lasting veggies could easily stay fresh for a year or more.

I also grabbed three large tubs of ice cream.

Central AC and a summer duvet—just imagining it made me feel chill.

Now, there was only one real problem left: water.

In the blazing apocalypse to come, not a drop of rain would fall, rivers would dry up, and all the plants would wither.

Humanity would slowly run out of water.

The risk of dying from thirst was far greater than from hunger.

There was nothing I could do to stop that.

All I could do was turn the rest of the basement into a massive water reservoir, storing every drop possible.

*****

That afternoon, Brian came home with Sandra, all smiles and soft touches.

"Honey, the news says there could be more aftershocks coming. Sandra's place isn't safe at all, so I invited her to stay with us. You two are so close. I figured you wouldn't want her out there by herself," he said, putting on his caring act while really just making the decision for me.

Truth was, sneaking around wasn't thrilling enough for Sandra. She insisted on making a scene and demanded to sleep in our master bedroom, just to rub it in my face.

To Brian, I was just a housewife he could manipulate however he wanted. With his grip on our finances, he barely even saw me as a person.

And since her lover didn't respect me, Sandra felt free to stomp all over me, eager to humiliate me any way she could.

She strutted around like she was the lady of the house, barking orders at Brian. "Brian, I'm so thirsty that I could die. Get me some water, right now."

Brian hurried over and handed her a glass of water.

Sandra whined, "I want ice water."

"Bab... Sandra, you really shouldn't drink cold stuff right now," Brian said, sounding a little uneasy.

"You're impossible," Sandra huffed, slapping his shoulder, then shot me a challenging glare.

Last time, she had done this just to push my buttons. She waited until I lost it, then shoved me down the stairs. Then she spun the story to make it seem like I started it.

I forced myself to stay calm.

Just earlier, I saw a survivor spill the tea online. It turned out the "Rubble Lovers" were the ultimate combo: a toxic femme fatale and a cold-blooded jerk.

The survivor said that during the quake, he and his friend ran into Brian and Sandra as they were escaping, and all four of them got trapped together under a collapsed beam.

Brian kept telling the survivor's friend to yell for help, and it took a whole three hours before rescue finally showed up.

"Getting us out was a nightmare. Someone managed to shove some water and bread through a crack in the rubble, but those two—so desperate to survive, they didn't care who they hurt. They ganged up and bashed my friend with rocks, just so they could keep all the food for themselves!" the survivor said, his eyes dark with fury, his voice trembling with rage and fear.

"Good thing I was half out of it from my injuries. They thought I was a goner and left me alone. Otherwise, I'd never have made it out. Now there's no proof, and the cops can't do anything. If you ever meet people like this, run the other way!" he warned.

A chill ran down my spine.

Those two heartless monsters—my own husband and my best friend. The people I'd trusted most in the world.