Elizabeth woke up in the hospital with a start, her heart pounding, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
She clutched her belly as tears filled her eyes. The nurse suddenly came in.
"How's my baby?" she panicked.
"Miss Elizabeth, please stay calm…" The nurse tried to soothe her, just as the doctor walked in.
"How is my baby, damn it!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the room.
The doctor hesitated. "Everything is well and fine with you…" he trailed off.
"With me? What about my baby?" she whispered, tears spilling over as she ran her fingers through her hair.
The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you lost the baby."
Elizabeth shut her eyes and fell back against the bed, tears streaming down her face. She reached for her phone, numb, and speed-dialed his number.
"Hello, Phil…"
"Hey, babe, what's up? I just got home, and you're not here…" he said casually.
She chuckled bitterly. "Really? Did you miss me, Phil?"
"I did… I missed you a lot…" he replied.
She laughed softly as the doctor and nurse left the room. "Do you want to fuck me, Phil?"
There was a pause before he answered. "I would love to… but the baby—we have to be gentle, honey."
"Of course, baby, we have to be," she said sweetly.
"Where are you? Let me pick you up," he offered.
"Wear something sexy. I want you to look good for me—it's a surprise," she said.
She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Sure, love. Anything for you," he replied.
"Of course, anything. I'll send you the address," she said.
She jumped out of the hospital bed and headed out, ignoring the nurse calling after her as the cab she ordered pulled up.
She quickly got in.
---
The cab stopped at a shop where she went in and got a leather miniskirt, boots, and a skintight leather top with a zipper.
Once dressed, she ordered a fancy dinner on the company's rooftop. There she stood, her eyes wide and sparkling, waiting.
The cold metal she had stopped for was tucked away in her coat pocket.
She saw his car pull up and sat down at the romantic dinner she had prepared.
Phil came up, his voice full of excitement. "Oh my goodness, baby, you prepared all this for us?" he exclaimed, kissing her cheek as he sat across from her.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "Hello, darling. Welcome."
He grinned. "What's all this for?" he asked, digging into the food.
She noticed his lips were a bit too pink and scoffed. "Your funeral," she said flatly.
He froze, his forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth, but she burst out laughing. "I'm joking, geez, relax," she said.
He grinned nervously and stuffed himself with food. "Very funny, babe," he said with a mouthful, opening the bottle of white wine on the table.
The air on the rooftop was stiff. "So, where are you coming from?" she asked casually.
He chuckled. "An urgent business meeting for my new branch in Missouri."
"Really? Not hot sex with Aeri?" she asked.
He choked, coughing violently, and she offered him a glass of water. "Babe, you're being too serious this evening. Can't take a joke?" she scoffed.
He coughed and chuckled nervously. "You're making really scary jokes today. Have you taken your meds?"
"Which ones? The ones you've been using to slowly make me lose my sanity for the past three years?" she snapped, her voice sharp as glass.
His breath hitched. "Babe, let's just eat—"
"You know, I trusted you. I thought we could be forever. But I guess this is."
Phil turned to see her pointing a gun at him, still seated at the table. Her eyes were cold, burning with vengeance.
"I warned you," she said. "I tried so hard to believe you."
"But all you do is lie—and lie—and lie. For God's sake, even now, you lie to my face with another woman's lipstick on your lips. You lie about not giving me drugs to drive me insane."
Hot, bitter tears streamed down her face as her voice cracked.
"Babe, I can explain, alright? Just drop the gun. Let's talk," he pleaded.
"Talk?" She barked out a bitter laugh. "You killed my baby!"
Her laugh dissolved into rage, and she fired two shots.
The bullets sliced through the air, one hitting his knee, the other his chest.
He collapsed, blood soaking his shirt as she walked over, her voice icy and unyielding.
"Go to hell, Phil."
She watched him stumble back, her body feeling cold and rigid. He staggered, and she realized he was about to fall. Jumping up, she ran to him, but it was too late. Before her very eyes, she watched him tumble backward.
The world moved in slow motion.
Her world moved in slow motion.
Her life moved in slow motion.
She fell into the icy depths of despair as his horrified eyes mirrored her own, just before he crashed into a moving car with a loud, sickening thud.
Her body went numb.
There was no guilt, no sorrow, no anger, no hatred—nothing. She simply watched as his blood flowed away, like the woman she had killed on her wedding day.
Well, life wasn't all roses, was it?
Her husband had been slipping her drugs, slowly unraveling her sanity. He had confined her to a mental asylum, treating her for the very pain he had inflicted.
He had married her for wealth, power, and status. But was it worth it?
She chuckled darkly, tears pooling in her eyes as she lifted the cold metal of the gun to her temple. Her pulse drummed against her skin, loud and frantic.
A manic grin stretched across her face. She believed insanity coursed through her family's veins.
She never suspected…
A dark laugh escaped her lips as she pulled the trigger.
---
They opened the cell, shoving her inside.
Across the room sat a deranged-looking woman, her eyes hollow and lifeless.
Elizabeth took a seat opposite her. "And that's why I'm here…" she murmured.
"At least you killed him. They all deserve to die," the woman muttered, her dark-rimmed eyes gleaming.
Elizabeth leaned forward. "And you? Why are you here?"
The woman chuckled, running her fingers through her unkempt hair. "Me? I'm here because I murdered my husband, my friends, my mom, my dad, my entire family…" she said, her words sending chills down Elizabeth's spine.
"Did he cheat?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.
The woman laughed, low and bitter. "Yes. And worse."
Elizabeth chuckled bitterly in return. "Then he deserved to die."
Their laughter echoed in the cell, chilling and unhinged.
"My name is Sandra. Sandra Dass," the woman said, her smirk eerie.
"Wanna hear my story?" she asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth nodded. "Sure. I'll be here awhile—my parents are still working out the court papers."
Sandra smirked, her voice dripping with malice. "For me, all men were the same… until I met him."