My Devoted Husband After Rebirth

Ashton remained silent. If not for the faint sound of his breathing, Arabella might have thought he wasn't listening.

She wasn't afraid—she was ashamed.

She had almost betrayed him. Even though nothing had happened, the intention alone had driven a wedge between them.

He must have wished for her death. It was a small mercy that he hadn't instructed the kidnappers to kill her outright.

Arabella took a deep breath, forcing her mind to focus. She cried into the phone, "They want 200 million! Just give it to them! Our son can't lose his mother!"

On the other end of the line, Ashton exhaled a cloud of smoke from his freshly lit cigarette, still not replying.

His anger simmered. She had been unfaithful, and he had swallowed the humiliation. Now, she was using their son—whom she had barely cared for—as leverage to save herself.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips, but he said nothing.

Arabella felt helpless. 'What is wrong with this man?'

"Ten... nine... eight..."

The countdown began, the kidnapper's accomplice ticking off the seconds with a calm yet ominous rhythm.

Arabella's panic surged. She couldn't wait any longer.

The kidnappers had brought her to Mont Forest, a secluded area surrounded by mountains. A few decades ago, martyrs had been buried there, and the site had remained undeveloped ever since.

While outsiders might not know the place, Arabella was certain Ashton would recognize the clues. He had always been a man of extraordinary resourcefulness.

"Darling, save me!" she pleaded, desperation sharpening her voice. "If you don't pay the ransom, they'll kill me! You'll have to mourn me next year. I don't want to join the martyrs here—it's too quiet. I'd be lonely!"

Her words tumbled out rapidly, ensuring Ashton would understand.

The countdown man frowned, clearly unimpressed. To distract him, Arabella yelled in frustration, "If I die, I'll haunt you and our son until you both join me!"

Ashton's hand froze mid-air, his cigarette perched between his fingers.

Even the kidnappers exchanged startled glances.

The final second of the countdown ticked by. The accomplice grabbed the phone and ended the call, visibly relieved. He cast a wary glance at Arabella and muttered under his breath, grateful she wasn't his wife.

Ashton sat silently, his eyes cold and unyielding. He exhaled a long trail of smoke, then dialed a number. In a low, emotionless voice, he said, "That woman is in Mont Forest..."

Arabella, still tied up, felt both guilt and determination. She had said what she had to, even if it made her feel terrible.

"You wouldn't believe me otherwise," she muttered to the kidnappers, her voice laced with bitterness. "Men's hearts change faster than the wind. He wouldn't pay unless I made him think he'd lose me forever."

The kidnapper boss said nothing, but his accomplice nodded in agreement.

As the clock ticked closer to the ransom deadline, the kidnappers grew increasingly restless. When Arabella asked to use the bathroom, they denied her.

"You can do your business here," the accomplice said dismissively, smirking at her discomfort.

Furious, Arabella glared. "Ridiculous! Don't push me. If I get desperate enough, I'll bite my tongue or bash my head against the wall. You'll get nothing if I'm dead!"

The boss laughed darkly as he returned. "Do you really think that'll work?" he asked, stepping closer. "Even if you pass out, you'll just make my job easier."

He pinched her chin roughly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through her jaw. His knife hovered near her stomach, his masked face betraying no emotion.

Arabella's mind raced. If he had received new orders, things could get even worse. 'Stay calm. Think.'

"Please... don't kill me," she whispered. "My husband will pay."

The boss sneered, clearly unconvinced, but stepped back for now.

Arabella knew she couldn't rely on Ashton—or anyone else—to save her. She needed to act.

While writhing on the ground, pretending to be in agony, she spotted a shard of porcelain hidden among the debris. Feigning pain from a stomach cramp, she rolled toward it and began working on the ropes binding her wrists.

Blood seeped from her palms as the shard cut into her skin, but she pressed on. After several grueling minutes, the ropes loosened. She wiped her bloodied hands on her clothes, keeping them behind her back to avoid suspicion.

"Stay here. I'll be back soon," the boss instructed, leaving the room.

The accomplice pulled up a chair and sat opposite Arabella, watching her with casual disdain.

Arabella seized the opportunity. "I need the bathroom," she said weakly.

"No," the accomplice replied, amused by her desperation.

She narrowed her eyes. "If I die, it'll be on you."

The accomplice snorted but turned his attention elsewhere.

It was now or never. Arabella freed her legs with a quick tug, keeping her movements subtle. Adrenaline surged through her veins.

She wouldn't wait for Ashton. If she wanted to survive, she had to escape on her own.