"Is that Damian?" I ask eagerly, trying to stand. The guard shoots me a warning glare, and I freeze, slowly crouching back down.
"Stay here," he says gruffly before turning away and disappearing down the hallway.
Five minutes.
It feels more like five hours.
I can't tell how many endless minutes I've spent in this rotting dungeon, but for the first time in forever, a flutter of hope stirs in my chest.
It must be Damian. He must have found out the truth. He's come to save me. Yes… it has to be him.
He's my husband. He wouldn't just forget me. Not after five years of marriage.
I touch my belly gently, cradling the fragile swell of new life forming inside me.
"Little one," I whisper, "your daddy is coming."
The baby is still too tiny to move or kick, but it doesn't matter. He's there. He exists.
He'll grow up with his mom and dad. He'll have the life I never did.
"Daddy will get us out of here," I say softly, leaning against the cold wall. I begin to hum an old lullaby from my childhood, the one my mother used to sing when the nights were too dark and the world felt cruel. My eyes flutter shut.
Just a little longer.
Then click. Click. Click.
The sharp, slow sound of heels taps against the floor, echoing through the corridor.
That's not Damian's stride.
I strain my ears for another pair of footsteps. Nothing. Just the steady, rhythmic strike of high heels against stone. The scent reaches me before the figure does ,bold, heavy perfume. Sharp. Familiar.
A chill runs down my spine.
No… not her.
"Hello, my dearest sister."
The red heels stop right in front of my cell. I lift my gaze slowly, heart pounding. From toes to neck, I already know who it is… and then I see it.
The necklace.
That necklace… My breath hitches.
It's the only thing our mother left me. The only piece of her I had. And now it's glittering proudly around her throat.
Ariella.
The sister who took everything.
"That's my necklace!" I shout, standing, rage igniting in my blood. "Give it back!"
I reach through the bars, but she swiftly steps back, her lips curling into a venomous smile.
"Now it belongs to me," she says smugly, her fingers grazing the diamonds. "Damian gave it to me."
"You're lying!" I scream. "Give it back!"
"Not just your necklace," she whispers, her voice like poison. "Your husband is mine now."
She brushes her platinum hair to the side… revealing a bold, purple love bite on her neck.
"See? He was with me last night… while you were rotting here in this stinking cell. We rolled in bed all night, giving each other pleasure."
No. No, that's not possible.
"I need to see Damian!" I cry out, my voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. Was five years that fragile?
The echo of my voice bounces down the hall, bringing two jailers. One of them is the bald one who's always watching me with those cruel eyes.
"Open the cell," Ariella commands coldly. "And shut this woman the fuck up."
Without hesitation, one slaps me hard across the face. The other grabs my shoulder and forces me to my knees.
I taste blood.
Ariella steps into the cell, wrinkling her nose like I'm a stain on her perfect world. She tosses something folded at my feet.
I stare down at it, blinking through the haze. The paper flutters open slightly.
I see the signatures.
Damian.
Father.
Execution orders.
Ariella's voice cuts through the air, sickeningly sweet.
"Open your eyes and look. These are your execution orders signed by Damian and Father. You're going to die today."
Each word digs into me like blades.
My hands shake as I pick up the paper. Even in the dim light, I know what it means.
I remember the day I signed my marriage certificate. Damian had kissed my hand and whispered, Forever.
And now… he's signed my death.
My own husband.
My own father.
Why?
Was I never enough?
I press my trembling hand against my stomach, as if shielding the life growing inside me from the cruel truth outside.
"I want to see Damian!" I scream at the guards. "I'm pregnant with his child!"
My voice ricochets off the stone walls, louder than any scream I've ever let out.
"No one can kill a pregnant woman carrying a Westwood child!"
Silence follows. Even one of the other prisoners leans closer, uncertain now.
"If she's pregnant," he mutters, looking toward Ariella, "we can't just kill her. If the boss finds out…"
"She's not pregnant," Ariella snaps. "She's lying. If she was pregnant, why didn't she tell Damian earlier? She's just stalling for time. Kill her!"
I feel the panic rising like fire in my chest. "If you kill me, Damian will come after you! I warn you!"
Ariella narrows her eyes and stares straight into mine.
"Rhea, you killed my child. And it was Damian's child too. Even if you're pregnant, I'll pay a life with a life. It's still a good deal."
"You planned this!" I shout. "I didn't do that! You framed me, Ariella! It was all you!"
"So?" she sneers. "A witness already testified that you killed my child. You're a sinner now. A murderer of the Westwood lineage."
A witness? My stomach drops. She planted someone. This was all planned.
Ariella steps forward, plucks a dagger from one of the guards, and holds it with terrifying familiarity. She smiles, slow and cruel.
"I'll let you die slowly."
She walks toward me, blade in hand.
Is that why she came instead of Damian?
Did she think I'd beg? That I'd fall to her feet and cry for mercy?
I won't. I won't give her that.
I straighten my back, even though my knees are weak.
"You can't hurt my baby," I plead, voice quiet but firm. "Ariella… please."
She raises the dagger. Its silver edge catches the faint light, and in its reflection, I see myself broken, afraid… but still standing.
"I won't beg," I whisper. Not again.
"As you wish," she murmurs.
The dagger plunges into my chest.
Pain tears through me searing, blinding pain unlike anything I've ever known. My body folds, my knees hit the ground.
Damian…
Why didn't you come?
Little one… I'm so sorry.
And as the world fades, Ariella's voice is the last thing I hear:
"Men will always be men. They'll cheat… even on their good wives."