The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 4

“To be honest, you’re right. I never deserved you,” Naomi said quietly.

“Losing you was always inevitable. Maybe it’s better to die while you still loved me, and become the one you’ll always remember.”-

With that, Naomi hung up.

Lester listened to the dial tone echoing in his ear, his heart sinking like a stone. A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he turned to Lindsay, his voice sharp and icy. “You’d better pray Naomi’s okay. If anything happens to her, I swear you’ll pay for it with your life.”

Without waiting for a response, Lester stormed out.

As Lindsay watched him disappear down the hallway, a memory from her previous life suddenly surfaced—she remembered, with chilling clarity, that Naomi had died on the night of the Quigley family dinner. Her brow furrowed. Was history repeating itself? Was Naomi doomed to die tonight, no matter what?

After a moment’s hesitation, Lindsay hurried after him.

…

Crest Apartments.

The most luxurious building in Skyrim, a place Lester had spent a fortune on so Naomi could have the very best.

Lester swiped his card at the door and rushed in, breathless from running. Lindsay followed on his heels, and the first thing she saw was Naomi sitting on the sofa.

This time, Naomi hadn’t been pushed down the stairs. Was it Lindsay’s return that had set off this butterfly effect? Or had Naomi sensed something was different?

Naomi looked dazed at first. But the second she saw Lester, a spark lit up in her eyes.

Then she spotted Lindsay standing just behind him. Instantly, her expression soured; her fists clenched at her sides. Why was Lindsay here too?

A sly smile played at the corner of Lindsay’s lips. She’d already checked the texts on the way over. Sure, she’d replied to Naomi, but her messages had been perfectly ordinary. And if she was being honest, it wasn’t even her—technically, it was the version of herself from before everything changed.

“Naomi, as long as I’m here, she can’t bully you,” Lester said gently, looking at her with soft concern. “Come on, give me your phone.”

Naomi clutched her phone tighter, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “I said to drop it. Just send Ms. Nelson home, would you?”

Lester frowned, confused by her reaction. “Naomi?”

“My, Ms. Scott, you’re so forgiving,” Lindsay said with a mocking tilt of her head, “but I don’t like being falsely accused.” She pulled out her own phone, scrolled through her messages, and handed it to Lester. “I’ve never been one to delete my conversation history.”

Naomi’s heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she lunged to snatch the phone, desperate to erase the evidence.