"Your mind was a battlefield. Flashbacks, panic attacks, days when you couldn’t breathe without shaking. And I was there. I sat through every therapy session, every uncomfortable silence in those sterile little rooms while you tried to stitch your soul back together. I never left. I didn’t even blink."
She swallowed hard as her eyes burned.
"I wiped your tears, Jason. I was the one who stayed when everyone else backed away."
Her voice cracked—but the fury behind it was sharp enough to cut the air between them.
"And now you have the nerve—the audacity—to stand here and tell you only ever loved Eliana? After everything I did to pull you back from the edge?"
The last words trembled off her tongue like a wound she wasn’t ready to admit she had.
Jason’s hazel eyes flashed with irritation, his hair falling into his face as he waved a dismissive hand. "Shut up, Sarai! Just shut up! If you really considered your best friend, you wouldn’t be recounting every little thing you’ve done for like so scorecard. That’s the difference between you and Eliana—she never threw her kindness in my face. She never talked back like you always do, challenging at every turn. And Eliana... she’s so pure, so innocent. Unlike you, with your sches and your sarcasm. You’re poison, Sarai. Always have been."
Sarai couldn’t believe the venom spilling from his lips. Her heart, that possessive organ she guarded so fiercely, shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. She had loved him since they were kids—sharing secrets under playground slides, dreaming of a future where she was the one on his arm. Her ambition, her cunning, all funneled into winning him, and yet he saw her as nothing more than a convenient shadow. Tears pricked at her sharp green eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let him see her break. "Jason... how can you say that? I’ve loved you my whole life. Every sche, every lie—it was for you. For us. And you... you still choose her? That naive girl who couldn’t even fight for you?"
Jason’s laugh was cold, echoing in the opulent room like a death knell. He grabbed his jacket from the chair where he’d flung it earlier, slinging it over his shoulder with dramatic flair. "Loved ? That’s obsession, not love. And I’ll never forgive you for lying about Eliana’s death. You stole months from —months I could have used to win her back. But mark my words, Sarai: I’m going to get her away from that fool Rafael. And you? I never want to see you again. We’re done."
With that, he stord toward the door, yanking it open with such force that it banged against the wall, rattling the designer posters. The slam as he left reverberated through the room, leaving Sarai alone in the suffocating silence. She stood there, frozen, her fierce beauty marred by the tracks of tears she could no longer hold back. Her glossy jet-black hair slipped from its bun, strands framing her face like a veil of mourning. Anger surged through her veins, hot and unrelenting, replacing the shock with a vengeful fire. "You’ll pay for this," she whispered to the empty room, her voice trembling with rage. "Both of you—Jason and Eliana. I’ll make sure your happiness crumbles to dust. No one leaves like this."
But beneath the fury, confusion gnawed at her. How was Eliana still alive? Sarai paced the room, her stiletto heels leaving faint marks on the plush carpet. She replayed the scene in her mind: the hospital reception, sterile and cold, where nurses had confird Eliana’s death from the hit-and-run she and Bianca had so ticulously orchestrated. Bianca had been there, smirking behind her hand as Rafael’s face crumpled in grief. The hospital staff had even detailed the cremation, ashes scattered as per "family" instructions. It was foolproof. Or so they thought. "How the hell is she still alive?" Sarai muttered, her sharp green eyes narrowing as she grabbed her phone from the vanity, her diamond earrings swinging wildly.
Her fingers trembled as she dialed Bianca’s number, the ringtone a mocking lody in the heavy air. When Bianca answered, Sarai’s composure shattered completely. Sobs wracked her body as she collapsed onto the edge of her king-sized bed, the silk sheets rumpling under her. "Bianca! Oh God, Bianca, she’s alive! Eliana’s alive! Not just that—she’s married to Rafael Vexley! It’s all over the magazines. How? We saw her die!"
On the other end, Bianca Monroe’s voice ca through, sharp and composed at first, but laced with underlying shock. Bianca, ever the elder scher who had taught Sarai every wicked trick in the book, was lounging in her lavish Manhattan apartnt, a penthouse overlooking Central Park. Her own fierce beauty mirrored Sarai’s—light brown skin, sharp green eyes inherited from their mother, glossy jet-black hair falling in waves. She wore a silk robe, sipping champagne, her mind always three steps ahead. But Sarai’s words hit her like a thunderbolt. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the hardwood floor. "What? Sarai, slow down. Eliana alive? Married to Rafael? That’s impossible. I took care of her myself!" Bianca almost cried into the phone. She’d arranged that hit-and-run to clear the path. She thought Eliana was out of the way so she could finally make her move on Rafael. She’d been planning it all—subtle encounters, charming him into seeing her as the perfect woman. And now Sarai was saying he’s married? To Eliana? To a ghost?
Sarai’s cries escalated, her voice yelling into the phone, raw and unfiltered. Tears stread down her face, smudging her impeccable makeup, turning her elegant facade into a mask of despair. "Yes! And Jason... he just left , Bianca! Stord out because of her—again! He said he never loved , that he’ll get her back from Rafael. Do sothing! Please, you have to fix this. She’s ruining everything again!"
Bianca’s shock morphed into calculated calm, her mind whirring like a well-oiled machine. She paced her apartnt, the city lights twinkling outside like distant stars mocking her plans. Her own possessive heart twisted—Rafael was supposed to be hers, the ultimate prize for her cunning. Eliana’s resurrection threatened it all. "Sarai, calm down. Breathe. Co to my apartnt right now. We need to talk face to face, plot this out properly. Don’t worry, little sister. Even if that bitch clawed her way back from the dead, she’s no match for us. I’ll send her right back to the grave in no ti. No one—no one—sses with Bianca and Sarai’s happiness. We’ll make them all pay."
Sarai nodded through her tears, though Bianca couldn’t see it, her voice a whisper of reluctant hope. "Okay... okay, I’m coming. Just... hurry with a plan. I can’t lose him. Not to her."
As she hung up, the room felt colder, the opulence a hollow shell. The Chapter of betrayal had only just begun, chains tightening around hearts that beat with love, hate, and unyielding vengeance.
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