BETRAYAL DRAWS BLOOD

DELILAH – Point of View

The moment I hear a knock on the door, a rush of adrenaline hits me like a wave. I take a deep breath and walk toward the door with a victorious smile playing on my lips. Finally, she is here. My long-awaited guest of honor. Emily.

The timing could not be more perfect , Jackson my unsuspecting lover already has his shirt off and his ego puffed up thinking we are about to make love. Poor fool. He has no idea he is minutes away from destruction.

I open the door slowly, letting the suspense build. And there she is—Miss Perfect, standing in her heels and neatly pressed dress, her face a canvas of disbelief, hurt, and confusion. I drink in her expression like it is champagne. It was all worth it the lies, the scheming, the fake pregnancy, and even getting my little sister to track her location. This moment is my reward.

The priceless look on Emily’s face nearly makes me laugh. Truly, I have never felt this satisfied. Watching her world crumble is the best kind of high. She finally knows the truth: her darling husband is not the saint she thought he was, and her perfect little family is built on lies.

“Babe, please, do not jump to conclusions,” Jackson blurts, practically tripping over himself to get out of the bed and reach for his pants. “There is an explanation for all this… Right, Delilah?”

He turns to me like I am going to help him spin a story, but I have never had any intention of saving him. I am here to burn it all down.

I smirk and cross my arms, the fake bump beneath my tight crimson dress slightly shifting. The satin hugs my curves, accentuating every inch of me, just as planned. My long hair cascades over my shoulders in soft waves, and my deep red lipstick completes the look of betrayal with elegance. Jackson’s favorite scent vanilla and amber lingers on my skin, a subtle reminder of our nights together. I planned every detail, down to the shimmer on my cheekbones and the sultry lace of my lingerie peeking through the slit in my dress.

I move closer to Emily and let the words drip from my mouth like poison.

“I am pregnant with Jackson’s child. He is the secret billionaire boyfriend I have been gushing about. The one who promised to leave his wife for me.” I pause and rest my hand on my belly. “I am due any day now. I am carrying his firstborn son. His heir.”

Emily’s jaw drops slightly, her mouth parting as if she wants to speak but does not have the strength. Her eyes flick to Jackson, who is desperately pulling his shirt over his head, his hands trembling. I bet she never imagined this betrayal coming from both of us. Her best friend and her husband.

And I do not stop there.

“Jackson and I have been together for years. Long before your little fairytale wedding. He was mine before he was yours, and now he is coming back to where he belongs. With me and our son.”

Jackson opens his mouth, probably to deny it all, but I cut him off with a sweet smile that could curdle milk.

“Do not act like you did not want this, Jackson. Remember what you told me last week? That you could not stand the sound of her voice anymore? That I am the only woman who understands you?”

I lie with such ease, I almost convince myself.

Emily staggers slightly, and I can see her knees weaken beneath the weight of the truth or at least the version of truth I am feeding her. The air in the room shifts. Even the flickering candles seem to sense the drama unfolding. Jackson’s whiskey glass sits untouched by the bed, a symbol of a plan disrupted.

Suddenly, Emily lets out a scream, clutching her stomach in pain. At first, I think she is just overwhelmed, but then I see it.

Blood.

It trickles down her legs and pools on the expensive carpet.

“Jackson…” she gasps, her voice raw with panic. “The babies… Something is wrong…”

Her legs give out and she collapses to the floor. I step back instinctively, shocked. This… was not in the plan.

“Emily!” Jackson yells, falling to his knees beside her, cradling her head. “Delilah, call an ambulance! Now!”

He is panicking. The man who just had his hands on my waist is now weeping for his wife. I freeze for a moment, heart racing not out of concern, but strategy. This could work in my favor. If she loses the babies…

I finally take out my phone and dial emergency services.

“Hello, we need an ambulance. A pregnant woman is bleeding and in severe pain. Room seven. Please hurry.”

As I hang up, I kneel beside her with fake concern plastered on my face.

“Stay strong, Em,” I say softly, brushing hair from her sweaty forehead. “Help is on the way.”

She does not respond. She is in too much pain, whispering over and over again, “Please, not my babies… please…”

Inside, I am cold. Calculating. If those babies do not make it, Jackson will be broken and vulnerable. And I will be right there to pick up the pieces. My surrogate is due soon. Once my ‘child’ is born, and hers are gone, there will not be any more questions. No more competition. Just me, Jackson, and our future.

But for now, I play the role.

The sirens wail in the distance, getting closer.

Jackson clutches Emily, rocking her slightly as if that will keep the babies safe. His tears fall freely now, soaking into her dress.

“Please hold on, my love,” he pleads, kissing her forehead. “You and the babies… please be okay…”

I look at him, still holding her hand, and for the first time in a long time… I feel something stir. Jealousy. Real, gut-deep envy. The way he is holding her like she is his whole world, the way his voice cracks in despair… he has never looked at me like that. Never.

But he will.

When she is gone, he will.

The paramedics burst through the door moments later, and chaos takes over. They ask questions, check vitals, and lift Emily carefully onto a stretcher. Blood still pools on the floor, staining the plush carpet. Jackson does not look back as he follows her out the door.

And just like that, I am alone.

I walk to the bed and sit on the edge, the silence of the room swallowing me whole. My fingers glide over the smooth curve of my fake belly. It is uncomfortable now, but necessary. My baby no, the surrogate’s baby is the key to everything.

Everything is going exactly as planned.

Except now… a small, unfamiliar voice whispers in the back of my mind.

What if he never chooses you?

I shake it off and reach for Jackson’s glass of whiskey, sipping slowly as I stare out the hotel window.

He will. He has no choice.

Because once Emily’s babies are gone…

I will be the only family he has left.