While I Was Dying, He Was Loving Her

“You are dying. I’m so sorry to tell you this.”

Dr. Romano’s voice echoed in my ears.

I stared at him, frozen, unable to process what he had just said.

“WWhat…?”

“And… I’m afraid it’s extremely rare and aggressive. There’s a high chance… you may not have much time left.”

A crushing weight sank into my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. My mind went blank. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t even react. I just… sat there. Numb.

“You need to tell your husband,” Dr. Romano added. “If you want, I can call him for you.”

I shook my head slowly, finding my voice. “No… I’ll tell him myself. Thank you, Doctor.”

I walked out of the hospital like a ghost. I didn’t remember how I got home. All I knew was that my world had tilted, and nothing would ever be the same again.

For the past few weeks, I’d been feeling strange…dizzy, weak, and fatigued. I thought maybe it was just stress, maybe overwork. But now I knew the truth. My body was betraying me, killing me from the inside.

When I reached the house, I hoped Lucas would be there. I needed him. I needed his arms, his comfort. I needed to feel that I wasn't alone.

“Lucas?” I called out, stepping inside. “Where are you? I… I have something important to tell you.”

I turned a corner just as he rushed past me, not even sparing a glance. His expression was tense, like he was distracted.

“Lucas, wait!” I said, reaching out for his arm. “Please, I need to—”

“Not now, Priscilla,” he snapped. “I have something to take care of.”

My heart dropped. “What? What could be more important right now?”

He stopped at the door, barely turning his head. “Jemma’s in the hospital! She might be dying! She needs me!”

And just like that, he left. No questions. No concern. Just walked out the door for her.

Jemma.

The first woman he married.

So, she’s back…on the very day I found out I was dying.

“Priscilla, maybe you should just rest at home,” Ava said gently, placing a hand on my arm. “Stop working for now. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

I let out a weak cough, then shook my head. “It’s okay,” I told her, forcing a small smile. “I can still manage. I’m fine, really.”

But the truth was…I wasn’t. I was far from fine.

That day, I tried to go on with my usual routine, pretending everything was normal. I didn’t want anyone worrying about me. But the moment I stood up from my desk, the room spun violently. My knees buckled beneath me. Everything went dark as I collapsed to the floor, completely drained and breathless.

My body had given up. I don’t know how that even happened.

Ava and the others rushed me to the hospital.

I was dying.

Later that evening, I went home, determined to tell Lucas everything. I needed him to know. But before I could get the words out… he left. He didn’t even let me explain. He just ran… because Jemma needed him.

Jemma. The first woman he married.

And I knew her.

She was my classmate back in college. They were sweethearts, deeply in love, and I… I liked Lucas even back then. But I never interfered. They had found something special, and I respected that. I didn't want to be the reason their love fell apart.

Eventually, Jemma left him after years of being together. She divorced Lucas for reasons I never understood, and it left him completely devastated.

When Lucas and I crossed paths again, our story began. He showed me a kind of love that healed parts of me I didn’t know were broken. He made me feel special. Cherished.

“I love you, Priscilla,” he once said, kneeling with a ring in his hand. “I’ll do everything for you. You’ve held together the broken pieces in me. I can’t imagine life without you.”

I was floating that day…completely in love, completely his.

But somewhere along the way, everything shifted.

Lucas became distant. I thought maybe it was work stress, after all, he ran a company, and I didn’t want to be a burden. So I found my own job, away from his business, just to prove I could stand on my own.

We both became too busy for each other.

And now… Jemma is back.

Despite being sick and struggling to breathe, I followed Lucas. I needed to see the truth for myself. I drove to where he went, coughing and barely holding on.

Then I saw his car, parked right outside the same hospital I had just left.

I rushed inside.

And there he was… with Jemma.

“She’s dying, Mr. Gray,” said Dr. Romano—the same doctor who diagnosed me. “I’m sorry to tell you this.”

Jemma looked up at Lucas, her eyes glistening with tears. “Lucas, please… don’t leave me.”

My breath caught the moment he reached for her hand and gently caressed her cheek. “I won’t leave you,” he whispered. “I’ll stay here for you.”

And just like that, everything inside me shattered all over again.

I rushed out of the hospital, barely able to see through the tears streaming down my face. My chest ached, and I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t even breathe properly. The pain was too much, it drowned every thought, every ounce of strength I had left.

“Hey! Watch where you're going!” someone yelled after I bumped into them, but I barely registered it.

“I’m ssorry,” I mumbled, my voice cracking as I kept walking. I was a mess—emotionally wrecked and completely shattered. My heart felt like it had been crushed into tiny pieces, and there was no putting it back together.

I never thought Lucas could do this to me. I should’ve seen the signs. The way he grew distant, how his attention slowly slipped away. The way he barely had time for me anymore. And now I know why. It’s because of her…Jemma.

The realization hit me like a slap in the face.

When I got home, I went straight to our room and collapsed on the bed. I cried, God, I cried until my throat went dry and my chest hurt from sobbing. I couldn’t believe the man I loved was slowly slipping away from me. And the worst part? I had to watch it happen, helplessly.

Night fell, and finally, Lucas came home.

I wiped my tears and tried to gather myself. I didn’t want him to see how broken I was. But the puffiness of my eyes gave me away.

“Hey, I’m home,” he greeted.

I met him at the door, forcing a small smile. But I didn’t say a word.

“What happened to you?” he asked, noticing my red eyes. “Why do you look like you've been crying?”

I shook my head quickly. “I was just watching a movie,” I lied. “It got to me.”

“Oh,” he said, brushing it off. “You shouldn’t cry over things like that. Movies aren’t even real.”

His words stung. He didn’t know the real reason for my tears, and maybe he didn’t care enough to ask again.

I swallowed hard and asked the question I’d been holding in my chest.

“How’s Jemma?”

He paused.

Then he turned to me, his expression suddenly serious. “About that… I’ll be away more often from now on.”

“Why?” I asked, already fearing the answer. My heart pounded in my chest.

“Jemma needs me,” he said softly. “You know our history. But don’t worry, I don’t love her anymore. I love you.”

‘Then why her?! You’re leaving me behind, Lucas!’ I wanted to scream.

“She’s dying,” he added.

‘I’m dying too!’ I badly want to tell him, but I couldn’t…I can’t.

“She has no one else. I’m the only one she can turn to.”

He kissed my forehead gently. “Let’s rest,” he whispered, taking my hand as we lay in bed.

But that night, I couldn’t sleep.

Days passed, and Lucas kept his promise, always with Jemma, while I was left behind, slowly dying.

Until the day I visited Dr. Romano for a checkup.

He looked at me with quiet concern. “Ma’am Priscilla,” he said, “your case is worsening. You might not survive past this week.”

And just like that, the world around me collapsed.

“You’ll need a blood transfusion,” Dr. Romano said carefully. “Your condition is serious. Your body doesn’t have enough healthy red blood cells to carry sufficient oxygen to your tissues. That’s why you’re always tired, always weak.”

I sat there quietly, my hands trembling in my lap.

“You need a blood donor, someone who can potentially save your life,” he continued. “Does your husband know about this? Sir Lucas? I can run tests to see if he’s a compatible donor.”

I bit my lower lip at the mention of Lucas.

“No,” I admitted quietly. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” Dr. Romano frowned. “You need to tell him. He has the right to know what you’re going through.”

I looked down, avoiding his gaze. My heart was already carrying too much.

“He’s here, actually,” the doctor added. “He came with his first wife… Miss Jemma.”

His words landed heavily in my chest, a painful reminder of how far I’d drifted from Lucas in his heart.

“He is your husband. He needs to know,” the doctor insisted.

“No,” I whispered, standing up slowly. “It’s okay. I can take care of myself.”

And with that, I turned my back on Dr. Romano and walked out of his office, each step heavier than the last.

Everything around me felt like a blur. My body felt drained, as if the little life I had left was slipping out through my fingertips. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do anymore. I didn’t even know if I had the strength to keep going.

When I got home, I wasn’t expecting anything unusual. I just wanted to lie down and breathe.

But the moment I opened the door, my breath hitched in my throat.

Lucas was there.

And beside him, like a scene from a nightmare, was Jemma.

“WWhat’s going on here?” I asked, trying to steady my voice, but the tremble betrayed me.

Lucas stood up and approached me, guilt written all over his face.

“Finally, you’re home,” he said, his tone soft. “I’m sorry this is so sudden.”

I looked between him and Jemma, my mind was racing with questions.

“But Jemma… she’ll be staying with us,” he continued, trying to explain. “She has nowhere else to go.”

My heart stopped. My world tilted. The woman who had already taken so much from me, my husband’s time, his affection, his presence, was now going to take space in our home too?

I felt like screaming.

But I couldn’t. I was too tired, too broken.

I forced myself to nod faintly, but inside, I was crumbling.

Lucas didn’t know. He didn’t know I was dying.

And now, I wasn’t even sure if he’d care once he did.

The road of my suffering began the moment Jemma moved into our home.

I later found out that her cosmetic brand had gone bankrupt. Life hadn’t been kind to her; she was struggling, truly drowning.

And then came the bigger revelation—Jemma was sick. Not just any illness, but a rare disease that was slowly taking her life away. She came back here after leaving Lucas.

Lucas told me he couldn't bear to leave her. He said Jemma was going through so much, and he was the only one she could turn to.

As if that made it okay to push me aside.

Now, today of all days, I’m coughing violently, my chest aching with every breath. I feel like I’m burning up. Fever is taking over my body, and it’s a struggle just to keep myself standing. Every inch of me feels like it’s about to collapse.

“Priscilla, can you get me some fresh water from downstairs?” Jemma's voice pierced the room. “I need water. I just finished eating.”

I wanted to scream. Lucas saw me, saw the way I was coughing and trembling, barely able to stand. But he said nothing. Nothing.

“Priscilla, did you hear me?” she called out again, louder this time.

I clenched my jaw. I wanted to yell, ‘Do you not see what’s happening to me right now?’ But instead, I shook my head, swallowed the pain, and forced myself up.

I went to the kitchen and got the water. Lucas, as usual, had an excuse, he had a call to take. “Just bring it to her along with her meds,” he said casually, as if I didn’t matter.

I gripped the glass and her medication tightly, my knuckles whitening. He didn’t know, I had my own meds hidden from him. Pills I took in secret because I knew he wouldn't care to ask. Because how could I tell him when it’s so clear he cares more about Jemma than me?

He doesn’t even ask. Doesn’t even pretend to care. Or maybe he’s just pretending not to see…blind to my pain.

I headed to Jemma’s room, but before I could knock, I heard her voice on the phone.

“My plan is working. Don’t worry, I’ll take him back. As soon as I get everything I want…” she paused, then laughed. A cold, heartless laugh, full of life, not someone who’s dying.

I must be hallucinating. I shook the thought away and knocked again. “Jemma, here’s your water.”

“Just come in,” she called out sweetly.

I entered the room and walked toward her…but then everything spun. My body gave in. I lost my balance and fell forward, the glass slipping from my hand and shattering across the floor.

“Oh my God, what are you doing? You’re so clumsy!” she screamed.

Lucas rushed in, alarmed. “What’s going on in here?!” he shouted, eyes darting between us.

“Are you okay?” Lucas immediately rushed to Jemma’s side as she let out a faint cough, her body appearing weak on the bed. She looked up at him with teary eyes, her voice trembling.

“I’m fine… I just got hit by some broken glass. It was your wife’s fault,” she whispered, gesturing weakly toward me.

Lucas turned his eyes toward me, his expression cold. “Priscilla, you should watch where you're going! You should be more careful whenever you’re near her!”

He raised his voice, and it stung deeper than any wound ever could.

I stood up in silence, trying to clean the shattered glass on the floor. As I reached down, a sharp piece sliced my finger. Blood trickled down my hand, but I ignored it.

Lucas’s face softened just for a moment. “Wait… Are you hurt?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.” I cleaned up the mess and left the room quietly, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

That day, I nearly collapsed. My vision blurred, and my body begged me to stop. But I forced myself to move. Not in front of Lucas. I couldn’t let him see me fall…because if he did, he wouldn’t care anyway.

That day, I knew… he truly didn’t care about me anymore.

Days passed, and my condition only worsened. I didn’t even know if I could survive the week. But Lucas’s attention remained fixed on Jemma. Always her.

“Priscilla… you look thinner,” he asked one day, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I haven’t had much appetite,” I replied simply.

My body was giving up. I had stopped taking the medicine Dr. Romano gave me. And despite knowing I had a fever, Lucas still treated me like a servant, asking me to cook and run errands for Jemma.

And Jemma? She carried on like nothing was wrong. A part of me started to suspect she was faking her illness. But I had no proof, until one day.

Lucas told me to bring food to Jemma. As I approached her room, I froze. She was standing, tall and strong, speaking cheerfully on the phone.

No sign of illness. None.

“I know he’s falling for me again,” she laughed. “He thinks I’m sick. I only faked it because I couldn’t stand seeing him married to someone else.”

My hand trembled. I dropped what I was carrying and stormed in.

“You!” I screamed. “How dare you lie like this?!”

She jumped, eyes wide. “How did you get in—?”

I slapped her hard across the face. Just then, Lucas burst into the room.

“Priscilla!” he shouted, rushing forward and pushing me. I hit the wall, stunned.

“Why would you slap her?! She’s sick!”

“No, Lucas, she’s lying! She’s not sick!” I cried.

“She’s manipulating you! You don’t even love her anymore, right?!”

Lucas stared at me. I tried to speak again, but another cough choked my words.

“Lucas, help me!” Jemma feigned her sickness again as she dropped to the ground, crying.

Lucas glared at me the moment he saw that Jemma was hurt.

“I’ve had enough,” he said coldly. “You’re the one pretending now, aren’t you?”

He turned to Jemma. “I got you.”

And at that moment, I knew, I no longer had a place in Lucas’s life.

That night, I packed my things.

I broke down crying as I packed my things.

I was sobbing uncontrollably, my chest tightening with every gasp of air. I’d had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t…when Lucas kept hurting me over and over again.

Deep down, I knew he didn’t love me anymore.

I knew he’d always choose Jemma. He’d always go back to her. Even after I told him she was manipulating him, that she was only playing with his feelings, he refused to believe me. He was blind to her, completely under her spell.

This time, I was leaving for good.

Lucas wasn’t in our room tonight. He was in Jemma’s. I didn’t know if they were sleeping together or if he was just watching over her like he always did. But I didn’t care anymore. Let him do whatever he wanted.

As soon as I finished packing, I left. No dramatic goodbyes. No second thoughts. I just walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back and the bag in my hand.

I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t plan anything. I just needed to be away from that house…away from him.

But as I walked farther into the night, my knees buckled. My vision blurred. And suddenly, my whole body collapsed to the ground. I started shaking uncontrollably.

“SShit,” I gasped, staring up at the sky.

Is this it? Am I going to die here?

The stars above me flickered like they were mocking me.

My breath came in short, painful gasps. I’d neglected myself for weeks. I hadn’t eaten properly. I hadn’t rested. All the emotional pain had taken a toll on my body, and it was shutting down.

I lay there, helpless.

And just when I thought I was about to fade into darkness, a light approached.

I blinked rapidly. Was I dying? Was the light here to take me away?

But then the light stopped. I heard the sound of a car door slam.

I couldn’t see the person clearly, but they knelt beside me. Strong arms wrapped around my frail body. I felt myself being lifted effortlessly.

“I’ve got you,” the voice whispered.

It was deep, steady, and strangely…familiar.

He carried me into the car, carefully placing me in the back seat. And as my vision began to steady, I finally saw his face.

“Dr. RRomano?” I murmured, surprised.

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I’ll make sure you live.”

Then everything went black.

Lucas’s POV

“Lucas, baby… good morning.”

I woke up to the feeling of someone caressing my hand gently. I blinked away the sleep and turned to see Jemma already awake, smiling sweetly at me.

“Good morning,” I replied with a faint smile, though my head throbbed and I felt a bit dizzy.

“Ugh… I think I’m feeling lightheaded. My head hurts. Can you get me some water?” she muttered. “Or maybe cook something for me? Or at least ask Priscilla to do it.”

I paused the moment her name left her mouth.

“I don’t know… Priscilla didn’t seem okay yesterday.”

“Please,” Jemma said, tightening her grip on my hand. “Just stay here with me. Leave her be. She’s probably just pretending again, doing that thing where she acts like something’s wrong just to get your attention. You know how selfish she is.”

Her words echoed in my head, stirring something uncomfortable inside me. I hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. “Okay… I’ll just go talk to her.”

I got up from the bed and made my way toward our room. I had spent the entire night with Jemma, watching over her, making sure she was okay.

“Priscilla,” I called as I knocked on the door. There was no answer.

“Priscilla? Are you there? I need you to make breakfast for Jemma…”

Still, no response.

Frowning, I opened the door and froze.

The room was empty. No sign of her.

“What the hell?”

I searched the entire house in a panic, but she was nowhere to be found. I started calling people, her friends, her coworkers, anyone who might know where she went.

Then I called Ava, a friend from her workplace. And what she told me left me speechless.

“Oh, she hasn’t been at work for a while now,” Ava said. “It’s been a few weeks, actually. One time she collapsed and lost consciousness. Turns out she’s sick. She got hospitalized and then told us she was resigning to focus on her health. She didn’t tell you?”

“No…” I muttered in shock. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

I ended the call. I clenched my fists, frustration and fear battling inside me.

And then I heard Jemma’s voice from behind.

“Lucas? What’s wrong? Why do you look so worried?”

“It’s Priscilla,” I said, breathless. “She’s gone. And… some of her things are missing too.”

Her expression shifted.

“I need to look for her,” I said firmly. “Stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

I turned to leave.

“Lucas, wait!” she called. “Don’t leave me alone!”

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

But just as I was about to head out, I heard a loud thud.

“Ow!” Jemma cried.

I spun around and saw her on the floor. I rushed to her side and lifted her into my arms.

“What happened?!” I asked, panicking.

“II’m feeling dizzy…” she mumbled.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I rushed Jemma to the hospital, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as she groaned in pain beside me.

The moment we arrived, nurses rushed to her side, and a doctor I didn’t recognize stepped in to take over.

“Where’s Dr. Romano?” I asked, looking around.

“He’s in his office,” one of the nurses replied. “He’s preparing to leave the hospital for good.”

That caught me off guard. “He’s leaving?”

I barely had time to process that when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of someone walking past the hallway. It was him.

“Dr. Romano!” I called out, quickly walking toward him.

He turned and gave me a small smile. “Oh, Sir Lucas. It’s you.”

I nodded, still catching my breath. “Yeah. How are you, Doc?”

“I’m doing fine,” he said. “How about you?”

“Well,” I began, “I’m worried about my wife right now. She disappeared. I don’t know where she went. She just… left.”

He looked at me with a flicker of sympathy. “I’m really sorry to hear that. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this because she begged me not to… but she came to see me.”

I frowned. “Wait, why did she come to see you?”

He sighed, lowering his voice. “Unfortunately… Miss Priscilla was sick, Sir Lucas. Gravely sick.”

My heart stopped.

“She had a condition. She passed away.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

“She’s… she’s dead?” I whispered, unable to believe what I was hearing.

Dr. Romano nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry to tell you this, especially like this. But she asked me not to say anything if we ever crossed paths. She didn’t want you to worry. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. But I couldn’t keep it from you. You deserved to know.”

His words sliced through me like knives.

Dead?

No.

No, she couldn’t be.

My mind went blank. My legs felt weak. The hallway around me blurred and darkened at the edges. My ears rang, drowning out the world.

She was sick? She had been suffering this whole time?

And I hadn’t known.

I hadn’t even noticed.

She died alone.

I lost her.

And now… it was too late.

“AAm I going to die?”

I woke up feeling weak. My body was drained, as if all the life had been sucked out of me.

I didn’t know who I was talking to.

Then I felt it. A soft mattress underneath me. Its gentle cushions welcomed my aching body. A moment later, light pierced through the darkness—bright, harsh, blinding.

It was focused directly on me, like a spotlight in an interrogation room.

Footsteps echoed from my right.

I tensed. My breath caught in my throat.

A silhouette appeared. A man. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I recognized the calmness in his presence, the gentleness of his hand as he caressed my cheek.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice low but comforting.

“I’m going to help you. I’ll make sure you get the justice you deserve. You didn’t deserve that kind of life.”

That voice…I knew that voice.

Dr. Romano.

“WWhat? What are you doing? Why are you helping me?” I managed to whisper, my voice rasping from exhaustion.

I remember now.

He was the one who found me when I collapsed in the middle of the road.

But instead of answering, he locked eyes with me.

His gaze sent a jolt through my core, there was rage in those eyes, and grief. But I couldn’t tell if it was directed at someone else… or at me.

“I want you to sleep,” he said gently, “Rest. Let me handle the rest.”

That’s when I saw it, a syringe in his hand.

“What are you—?”

Before I could finish, the needle pierced my skin. A cold sensation rushed through my veins, and the edges of my vision began to blur.

My limbs turned heavy, and the darkness pulled me under once again.

His voice was the last thing I heard.

“I’ll help you live long enough… so you can be mine.”

My eyes fluttered open slowly. I blinked against the soft lighting and turned my head, scanning the unfamiliar room around me. Where was I?

I sat up, confused, but before I could take in my surroundings, a voice startled me.

“Oh, don’t move too fast.”

I turned my head sharply. My eyes widened.

Dr. Romano.

He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, calmly reading a book. He looked different—he was wearing glasses now. He marked the page, closed the book, and stood.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

I looked down at my body, searching for answers, trying to remember what happened.

“WWhat did you do to me?” I demanded.

He smiled, wide and almost proud.

“I saved you. You were dying when I found you. But you’re not dying anymore.”

My heart pounded. “How is that even possible?”

“Simple,” he said. “I found a blood donor. I created an antidote. I treated you. All for free.”

My brows furrowed. “Why? Why are you doing this for me? What do you want in return?”

“I don’t want anything in return, Priscilla.”

He turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine. That’s when I saw it—pity. A quiet sorrow that softened the edge of his voice.

“I’ve been your doctor for years,” he said gently. “And I know your husband is cheating on you while you were barely hanging on to life. While you were suffering.”

His voice grew heavier, laced with restrained anger.

“He’s been helping Jemma, comforting her, while you were dying. And from what I discovered, he’s been using you, Priscilla. Treating you like a servant in your own home. He doesn’t care about you. Not the way he should.”

My chest tightened. I clenched the bed sheet with shaking fingers. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, I already knew. I had always known.

“That’s why I think it’s for the best that you left your house… and thank God I found you when I did,” Dr. Romano continued. “I was actually planning to visit you that night, to talk to you, to check up on you. But when I saw you, you were on the road—barely breathing.”

His words were harsh, but his voice stayed calm, like he was trying to soften the truth.

I stared into nothing, stunned. Then memories started pouring in—Jemma. That woman. I had always pitied her. Lucas said she was sick, bedridden. But now I remembered something that shattered everything: Jemma wasn’t sick at all. She was faking it.

“She’s been lying,” I whispered.

Dr. Romano nodded. “She came to me, asking for a medical report to convince Lucas. She begged me to lie for her. I couldn’t tell you before because you were dying…”

He sat beside me on the edge of the bed, his presence calm yet firm.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

I shook my head, overwhelmed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t have the power to fight them. I’ve always been the one left behind.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

His words stopped me.

He reached for my hand and gently took it in his. Then he leaned closer.

I could smell him—clean, expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely. The scent made my heart race.

Our faces were inches apart.

I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

“Dr. Romano… what are you doing?” I asked, breathless.

“That’s why I saved your life,” he said. “You need to go back.”

“What? No—”

He shook his head. “Not to return to the pain. You need to go back and show him that you’re more than what he ever thought of you. He thinks you’re dead. But you’re not. And don’t you think it’s time you showed them who you really are?”

His voice struck something deep inside me.

My hands curled into fists. My vision darkened with rage.

“Priscilla,” he whispered against my lips, “what are you going to do?”

I slowly looked him in the eyes, madness now consuming me.

“I’m going to make them pay for what they did to me,” I whispered coldly.

I gritted my teeth.

“I will avenge myself.”