Chapter 3: A Woman Scorned

Chapter 3: A Woman Scorned

Westland Hospital.

Richard and Jessica burst through the hospital doors, their faces pale with feigned panic. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the sharp rhythm of their footsteps echoing across the polished floor. They hurried to the reception desk, hearts pounding, but not from fear.

“Please,” Richard gasped, gripping the counter. “I, I got a call that my wife was in an accident. She was brought here—Aurora Williams.”

The receptionist’s fingers tapped quickly on her keyboard. “Yes, sir. She was brought in not long ago. Room forty-six. The doctor’s with her now.”

Without another word, they dashed down the corridor. Jessica’s heels clattered on the tiles, Richard’s chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Just as they reached the room, the doctor stepped out, his face pale, his eyes weary.

“Doctor!” Richard’s voice cracked. “How is my wife?”

The doctor hesitated, then exhaled a long, heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, sir. But your wife… she didn’t make it. She’s gone.”

The hallway went still. Richard froze, his eyes blank—too blank. Jessica bit her lip, pretending to fight back tears, but the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” Richard snapped, his voice low and trembling with what sounded like disbelief, but carried an undercurrent of mockery.

“We did everything we could,” the doctor murmured. “But her injuries were too severe.”

Richard staggered back, collapsing into a chair. His hands raked through his hair, his face buried in his palms. “No… no, this can’t be,” he muttered, forcing his voice to shake.

Jessica crouched beside him, rubbing his shoulders gently. “It’s okay, Richard. Aurora’s in a better place now.” Her tone was soft, comforting—almost convincing.

The doctor nodded sympathetically and walked away, leaving the two alone in the quiet corridor.

The moment he disappeared, the masks fell.

A smirk crept across Richard’s lips. “Oh, thank God,” he breathed. “That bitch is finally gone.”

Jessica straightened, smoothing the wrinkles from her blouse. Her eyes gleamed. “So… that means we can take her entire fortune now, right? I mean, now that she’s really gone.”

Richard leaned back, running a hand through his hair again, but this time the movement was lazy, satisfied. “You know,” he said with a grin, “I’m almost glad Aurora never signed those divorce papers. If she had, I’d have lost everything. But now… now it’s all mine.”

Jessica chuckled, the sound low and wicked. “Don’t get too excited yet. We still have to play the grieving couple. Tears, sorrow, the whole act. No one can suspect a thing.”

Richard smirked, his eyes glinting coldly. “Oh, I can cry on command if it means I get every penny she left behind.”

Jessica leaned in close, her voice dripping with irony. “Then let the performance begin.”

And as they walked down the corridor, arm in arm, the faint echo of their laughter lingered—soft, cruel, and terrifyingly triumphant.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

(Aurora)

I woke up, a dim light piercing my eyes. I squinted, trying to adjust to my surroundings. I was in a hospital room, but it looked private. Flowers and get-well cards were arranged on a nearby table.

I tried to remember what had happened. Why was I here?

"Hello, ma'am! You're awake! Thank God," a soft voice came from the doorway. A young nurse walked in, a wide smile spread across her face.

Confusion must have been plain on my face. "Wait, what happened? Where am I?" I asked.

The nurse heaved a heavy sigh. "Ma'am, you had a bad fall down the stairs and hit your head. You were rushed here, but you've been in a coma for five months. I'm so glad you're awake now," she said, her tone dripping with genuine happiness.

Panic surged through me as I tried to remember. Then, the memories of that night came flooding back: catching my best friend in bed with my husband, leaving in a rage, speeding off in my car... and then a white van slamming into me.

"Arghh!" I held my head as a sharp pain accompanied the returning memories. "I didn't fall down the stairs. I was in an accident."

"Take it easy, ma'am. Try not to stress your brain," she said, gently rubbing my shoulder. "I'll go call your godfather and let him know you're awake."

"My... godfather?" I asked, my head throbbing from the information overload.

"Yes, ma'am. Your godfather."

I took a deep breath, trying to process it all. Then, my eyes darted to a mirror on the wall. My body froze completely. My eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

The face staring back was not my own. My hair was shorter, my lips were fuller—I was in a completely different body. How? How on earth was this possible?

"Nurse! This... this isn't my face! What the hell is happening?" I cried, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Ma'am, you've just woken up. The emotions are overwhelming. I think you should rest," she said calmly.

I raked my hands through my hair in utter confusion. "Wait, where is this hospital? How far are we from New York?"

The nurse gave me a puzzled look. "New York? Ma'am, we're in Italy."

My jaw dropped. Just then, a news segment on the television caught my eye. It was a video of Richard and Jessica.

"Please, turn the volume up," I urged the nurse.

She did, and the headline on the screen made my chest tighten: "Businessman Richard Williams and his wife, Jessica Williams, have acquired a new private jet. Mr. Williams stated he wanted to celebrate his wife's birthday in style, so he fulfilled her wish. This couple makes falling in love look sweet. Following the untimely passing of his former wife, Aurora Cole, Richard has remarried; his wife is now the actress Jessica Williams."

Wife? Private jet? More hot tears fell. Those bastards had taken over my father's fortune now that they thought I was gone.

My mind snapped back to the white van. Had Richard orchestrated the whole thing? A huge lump formed in my throat as my thoughts spiraled.

Perhaps destiny was rewriting my fate. I swore then that I would make them pay. They would regret the day they chose to betray me.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

The door creaked open, and a tall, imposing man entered. He wore a hat and leaned on a walking stick. In his right hand, he held a beautiful bouquet of flowers. His aura was dangerously powerful, and his expensive clothes marked him as a wealthy man. His sharp Italian features were strikingly handsome.

"La Bonita, you're finally awake," the man said, his voice deep as he walked closer. He pulled me into a soft hug, his heavy cologne almost suffocating.

I pulled away and stared at him, bewildered.

"Who are you?"I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Confusion flashed across the man's face. He glanced at the nurse, then back at me.

"Sir,she has just woken up. I suggest we give her some time to rest," the nurse interjected gently.

"La Bonita, you don't remember me? Your godfather?" he said, ignoring the nurse's advice.

So this is my godfather.

I swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"Oh,godfather. I'm sorry for not remembering you. My mind is still a mess," I said.

He rubbed his temples lightly.

"It's okay,Bonita. See, I brought you your favorite flowers," he said, handing me the bouquet.

They weren't my favorite, but I figured they must have been his real goddaughter's.

"Thank you,"I said, genuinely.

Now, I had a new life, a new identity, and a new family. Maybe, just maybe... this was the first step toward my revenge.

Maybe...